Quotes About Beauty

I see myself..in those pages as she goes back and forth, enjoying simply enjoying the beauties of the moments then chastising herself for having 'no edge' being simple and worse, harmless.

Julian is bluff and sturdy, royal; he possesses a gracefully muscular, equine beauty so natural it suggests that beauty itself is a fundamental human condition and not a mutation in the general design.

I was not beautiful, but I believed I had the possibility of beauty in me.

He makes her think sometimes of a mouse singing amorous ballads under the window of a giantess.

Beauty is a whore. I prefer money.

Beauty - the beauty Peter craves - is this, then: a human bundle of accidental grace and doom and hope. Mizzy must have hope, he must, he wouldn't shine like this if he were in true despair, and of course he's young, who in this world despairs more exquisitely than the young, it's something the old tend to forget.

I knew how I sounded - slow and oafish, like the cousin who gets ditched and goes on playing alone, as if he'd planned it that way. I couldn't quite tell her about the daily beauty, how I didn't tire of seeing 6 a.m. light on the telephone wires. When I was younger, I'd expected to grow out of the gap between the self I knew and what I heard myself say. I'd expected to feel more like one single person.

Youth is the only sexy tragedy.

a much younger woman, one of those round-faced, tiny-featured women who were touted as beauties though they were not in fact particularly beautiful. They were simply the daughters of wealthy families powerful enough to demand that the concept of beauty be expanded to include them.

M?žu Ti Ã…â"¢íct o holkách jedno tajemství? Ne. Mají rády, když jsi na nÄ› hodný. PÃ…â"¢ekvapilo by tÄ›, jak daleko se se spoustou holek dostaneÅ¡, když k nim prostÄ› pÃ…â"¢ijdeÅ¡ a Ã…â"¢ekneÅ¡: Podle mÄ› jsi skvÄ›lá; podle mÄ› jsi krásná. Ony totiž vÅ¡echny mají strach, že nejsou.

A što s beskrajnim trudom da prona?eš ravnotežu izme?u osje?aja i ironije, ljepote i strogosti, i pritom otvoriš pukotinu u supstanci svijeta kroz koju bi mogla zasjati istina za smrtnike?

Laura po Kitty touží. Po její síle, po tom, jak vÄ›cnÄ›, pohodovÄ› pÃ…â"¢ijímá vÅ¡echna svá zklamání, po mihotavých r?žovozlatých svÄ›tlech její utajené osobnosti, po kÃ…â"¢ehkých naÅ¡amponovaných hlubinách jejích vlas?.

What's the most fundamental human urge?" Barrett recites for her. "To find the perfect pair of jeans. To find the jeans that fit and flatter you so ideally that everybody, every cognizant being on the planet, will want to fuck you.

It's the city's crush and heave that move you; its intricacy; its endless life. You know the story about Manhattan as a wilderness purchased for strings of beads, but you find it impossible not to believe that it has always been a city; that if you dug beneath it you would find the ruins of another, older city, and then another and another.

Podsjeti se: u jelu nema ništa loše. Ne misli na trulež ni na izmetine; ne misli na lice u zrcalu.

I've felt it for some time now, closing around me like the jaws of a gigantic flower. Isn't that a peculiar analogy? It feels that way, though. It has a certain vegetable inevitability. Think of the Venus flytrap. Think of kudzu choking a forest. It's a sort of juicy, green, thriving process. Toward, well, you know. The green silence. Isn't it funny that, even now, it's difficult to say the word 'death'?

La beauté est une putain Je préfère l'argent

In heaven, Lucas would be beautiful. He'd speak a language everyone understood.

It's remarkable, being alive. Being, once again, someone walking through a dust of blowing snow...

It's remarkable, being alive. Being, once again, someone walking through a dust of blowing snow, passing the window of the liquor store, which offers an array of bottles surrounded by tiny blinking lights,; seeing her own reflection skim across the glass; being, once again, able to recieve the ordinary pleasures, boots on the pavement, hands in the pockets of her jacket...

Beauty and dignity were illusions fostered by the company of children, sustained for the benefit of children.

On any given day I'm likely to be working here at home, hunched over this keyboard, typing Great Thoughts and Beautiful Sentences—or so they seem at the time, like those beautifully flecked and iridescent stones one finds at the seashore that gradually dry into dull gray pebbles. --Going, Going, Gone

Charles Revson, the founder of Revlon and an extraordinarily successful entrepreneur, once said about his company: "In the factory Revlon manufactures cosmetics, but in the store Revlon sells hope." The commodity is cosmetics; the product, hope.

Its whole expanse was covered with tall, juicy grass, and when the wind blew, great waves passed over it with a sound like troubled water. (The Grassy Ocean)