Quotes About Beauty

She found herself, for the first moment, looking at the mysterious portrait through tears. Perhaps it was her tears that made it just then so strange and fair ... the face of a young woman, all splendidly drawn, down to the hands, and splendidly dressed ... And she was dead, dead, dead

To gaze into the depths of blue of the child's eyes and pronounce their loveliness a trick of premature cunning was to be guilty of a cynicism in preference to which I naturally preferred to abjure my judgment and, so far as might be, my agitation.

The years have touched her only to enrich her; the flower of her youth had not faded; it only hung more quietly on its stem.

Life is all a green old English garden and time an endless summer afternoon.

But you must remember that justice to a lovely being is after all a florid sort of sentiment.

It had come back to him simply that what he had been looking at all summer was a very rich and beautiful world, and that it had not all been made by sharp railroad men and stock-brokers.

She envied the security of valuable 'pieces' which change by no hair's breadth, only grow in value, while their owners lose inch by inch youth, happiness, beauty[.]

If he was not personally loud, however, he was deep, and during these closing days of the Roman May he knew a complacency that matched with slow irregular walks under the pines of the Villa Borghese, among the small sweet meadow-flowers and the mossy marbles.

He had gone in late to see her, but evening hadn't settled and she was presented to him in that long fresh light of waning April days which affects us often with a sadness sharper than the greyest hours of autumn.

You're like a picture; you ought to be enclosed in a gilt frame and stand against the wall.

It has not been a successful life.' 'No -- it has only been a beautiful one.

She had once heard an enthusiastic musician, out of patience with a gifted bungler, declare that a fine voice is really an obstacle to singing properly; and it occurred to her that it might perhaps be equally true that a beautiful face is an obstacle to the acquisition of charming manners.

He had come abroad to enjoy the Flemish painters and all others; but what fair-tressed saint of Van Eyck or Memling was so interesting a figure as Madame de Mauves?

I was dazzled by their loveliness.

The day lingered and the last calls of the last birds sounded, in a flushed sky, from the old trees.

Pearls have such a magic that they suit every one.' 'They would uncommonly suit you,' he frankly returned. 'Oh yes, I see myself!

Our men have been real Frenchmen, and their wives--I may say it--have been worthy of them. You may see all their portraits at our house in Auvergne; every one of them an injured beauty, but not one of them hanging her head. Not one of them had the bad taste to be jealous... These are great traditions, and it doesn't seem to me fair that a little American bourgeoise should come in and pretend to alter them, and should hang her photograph, with her obstinate little air penche

She's beautiful, but I don't say she's easy to know. Ah, she's a thousand and one things!

I cling to some saving romance in things.

Suddenly she said to him with extraordinary beauty: I engage myself to you forever. The beauty was in everything, and he could have separated nothing—couldn't have thought of her face as distinct from the whole joy. Yet her face had a new light. And I pledge you—I call God to witness!—every spark of my faith; I give you every drop of my life.

The Brighton air used of old to make plain girls pretty and pretty girls prettier still - I don't know whether it works the spell now. (Sir Edmund Orme)

I recall this passage as the hour of its first fully coming over me that she was a beautiful liberal creature. I had seen her personality in glimpses and gleams, like a song sung in snatches, but now it was before me in a large rosy glow, as if it had been a full volume of sound. I heard the whole of the air, and it was sweet fresh music, which I was often to hum over. (Sir Edmund Orme)

Oh, handsome—very, very," I insisted; "wonderfully handsome. But infamous." She slowly came back to me. "Miss Jessel—was infamous." She once more took my hand in both her own, holding it as tight as if to fortify me against the increase of alarm I might draw from this disclosure. "They were both infamous," she finally said.

He had never supposed she hadn't wings and the need of beautiful free movements.