Quotes About Beauty

It is like leaning over the edge of a canyon and feeling the wind whip by. Any illusions about your significance are wiped away; you realize how puny and inconsequential you are. And yet the beauty is so intoxicating that you only crave more. You long to have a bigger heart that could take it all in. That's a taste of what "the fear of the Lord" means.

Here is the world. Beautiful and terrible things will happen. Don't be afraid.

Here is the world. Beautiful and terrible things will happen. Don't be afraid.

O]ther thinkers have philosophised since the time of Plato, but that does not destroy the interest and beauty of his philosophy

Not, perhaps, so elegant as your Berkeley Square, but sometimes, even here, you can hear a Nightingale sing.

With rake and seeds and sower, And hoe and line and reel, When the meadows shrill with "peeping" And the old world wakes from sleeping, Who wouldn't be a grower That has any heart to feel?

The seventh daughter is beautiful and wise beyond all measure. She spins the cloud-silk for the King and Queen of Heaven, and presides over the weaving which maidens do on earth. It is for this reason she is called the Weaving Maiden.

The night walked down the sky with the moon in her hand.

The world's as ugly as sin, and almost as delightful

When I was young my Father used to tell me that the two most worthwhile pursuits in life were the pursuit of truth and of beauty and I believe that Alfred Nobel must have felt much the same when he gave these prizes for literature and the sciences.

The office of poetry is not to make us think accurately, but feel truly.

La beauté est dans les yeux du spectateur.

La belleza y la fealdad son un espejismo, porque los demás terminan viendo nuestro interior.

El arte más poderoso de la vida, es hacer del dolor un talismán que cura, una mariposa renace florecida en fiesta de colores.

Love is life's snow. It falls deepest and softest into the gashes left by the fight - whiter and purer than snow itself.

It was not delight, not wonder that arose among us, it was the peace of heaven. A thousand times have I said it to her and to myself: the most beautiful is also the most sacred. And such was everything in her. Like her singing, even so was her life.

Ah, where will I findFlowers, come winter,And where the sunshineAnd shade of the earth?Walls stand coldAnd speechless, in the windThe weathervanes creak.

Nothing is beautiful, except man alone: all aesthetics rests upon this naÔvetÈ, which is its first truth. Let us immediately add the second: nothing is ugly except the degenerating manóand with this the realm of aesthetic judgment is circumscribed.

After all, what would be "beautiful" if the contradiction had not first become conscious of itself, if the ugly had not first said to itself: "I am ugly"?

Only as an aesthetic phenomenon is existence and the world eternally justified.

Nothing is beautiful, only man: on this piece of naivete rests all aesthetics, it is the first truth of aesthetics. Let us immediately add its second: nothing is ugly but degenerate man - the domain of aesthetic judgment is therewith defined.

I am a forest, and a night of dark trees: but he who is not afraid of my darkness, will find banks full of roses under my cypresses.

Art is the right hand of Nature. The latter has only given us being, the former has made us men.

Grace is the beauty of form under the influence of freedom.