Quotes About Beauty

It was beautiful, this place, and it was savage. It swallowed you and made you a part of itself, or if you proved too inassimilable, it spit you out like the pit of a plum.

I began to envision myself differently, to experience The Feminine not as wounded, but as something beautiful, exuberant, wise and unspeakably valuable.

There was something strangely beautiful about this, the coming together of two ways of life that I'd thought irreconcilable: duty and longing

The sun's pink fingers were still wrapped around the clouds.

lay beside him, drawing warmth from his body. We stared up at the branches, at clusters of yellow fruit, at the black sky smeared with stars. How awake we were, how alive. I pressed my ear to his chest and listened to the slow drumming. I thought us inseparable. A single timbre.

the egrets lifting out of the marxh carrying the light on their backs.

She smiled and the skin wrinkled around her eyes in that way that makes a woman beautiful.

The day we gathered our daughter's bones, the valley was full of wild lilies. Do you remember? You told me to consider the lilies, that God takes care of them and will surely, then, care for us. Consider them now, my love. Consider the lilies.

morning shadows blossoming around her shoulders.

Naturally, arranging a marriage between two families separated by a chasm like this would've been impossible unless the bride possessed extraordinary beauty or the groom bore some bodily defect.

Does this wild errant need fade, like the colour of eyes do?

The railway terminus and university and court buildings of the Fort area are either lovable or Gothic follies, depending on your taste, but you can look at them and feel something. There are no modern buildings in Bombay that make you feel anything.

Bombay is both, the beautiful parts and the ugly parts, fighting block by block, to the death, for victory.

On the Churchgate train, past Charni Road station as it sees the sea, past the gymkhanas—Islam, Catholic, Hindu, Parsi—as the shacks fade away, Bombay becomes a different city, an earlier city, a beautiful city. All of a sudden there is the blue sky and the clear water of Marine Drive, and everybody looks toward the bay and starts breathing.

the darkest sky is filled with stars, that the sun casts its warmth on the coldest day.

The path has a cottage garden on both sides; clumps of old-fashioned flowers ran all over each other: lamb's ear, mint, & rhubarb, roses, forget-me-nots, bleeding hearts & wisteria. I walked very slowly, savoring. At the end of the slate path was the house, very recognizable now... As nearly perfect a little place as I ever lived in is how Beatrix described it.

Spring is magic~ sweet to the senes & easy to celebrate.

Gardens are heaven~gardens & churches have a lot in common.

Now especially since man has the strength to destroy the world, it is the responsibility of man to keep it alive, in all its beauty and marvelous joy.

the sky dark with wheeling birds.

Remember. Y maent yr mynyddoedd yn canu ac y mae'r arglwyddes yn dod. The mountains are singing, and the Lady comes. Remember.

They are beautiful. They have so much potential. They are capable of so much, every single one of them. We have no idea the things they can do. My job is to make sure their lives aren't wasted. -Anthony Amato

It was the beauty of a thousand yesterdays and perhaps of a thousand tomorrows, timeless Cashelmara, geometrically perfect, splendidly stark

We got up and smiled at each other. His eyes were lovely, and I was reminded of a line in book I read once, that God exists in the spaces between people.