Quotes About Beauty

What is so marvelous about living today is that it is possible to extend, like a flower, spreading petals in all directions.

The woman who looks to God in the face of unkindness becomes more beautiful through suffering. Her face does not bear the lines of bitterness and a disturbed countenance. She displays a rare and remarkable beauty because she has learned to wait upon God. Her happiness is out of reach of those who have wronged her.

A most mediocre person can be the object of a love which is wild, extravagant, and beautiful as the poison lillies of the swamp.

She stood in front of the mirror a long time, and finally decided she either looked like a sap or else she looked very beautiful. One or the other.

Sometimes this fellow's music was like little colored pieces of crystal candy, and other times it was the softest, saddest thing she had ever imagined about.

Wonderful music like this was the worst hurt there could be. The whole world was this symphony, and there was not enough of her to listen.

Wonderful music like this was the worst hurt there could be. The whole world was the symphony, and there was not enough of her to listen.

La persona más mediocre puede ser objeto de un amor arrebatado, extravagante y bello como los lirios venenosos de las ciénagas

What was she thinking? Tarnished Silver? Brother. He probably practiced that smoldering look in the mirror so all women within a mile would fall over like nine pins when he smiled. Well, count her out. He was mouthwatering to look at, but so was cheesecake, and cheesecake was a heck of a lot safer.

Flowers tell us about the delicacy and tenderness and whimsical poignant hopefulness of the earth. They tell us about this unexpected unnecessary beauty that takes us off our guard and bursts through our cynicism every year

Quietly, Miss Alice was demonstrating this God of love and beauty too—in small ways and in large. For a few, the concept that life did not have to be all starkness and misery was slowly taking root. Tentatively, timidly—constantly encouraged by Miss Alice—some of the women were at last reaching out for light and beauty and joy.

The critic George Henry Lewes asked, 'Does it never strike these delightful creatures that their little fingers were meant to be kissed, not to be inked?

Sie hatte den schönsten Fuß, den er je gesehen hatte.

Better a sparrow, living or dead, than no birdsong at all.

life's kind of like a painting. A really bizarre, abstract painting. You could look at it and think that all it is, is a blur. And you could continue living your life thinking that all it is, is just a blur. But if you really look at it, really see it, focus on it, and use your imagination, life can become so much more. The painting could be of the sea, the sky, people,buildings, a butterfly on a flower, or anything except the blur you were once convinced it was.

Well that's the problem with paradise- nothing attracts a serpent quite like it.

He was comparing you to the butterflies that you both adore and cherish, and he said you were special for the same reasons: you were rare, exotic and entirely you. He said you're beautiful exactly the way are now.

She strived for perfection. She loved setting herself tasks, sometimes impossible ones, to prove to her heart that underneath every seemingly ugly thing there was something beautiful inside.

Mira alla luna. Anche se la manchi, rimarrai sempre tra le stelle.

Forty-three years old, he is handsome and he knows it, but it's not a view that is held with arrogance. His opinion on his looks are merely understood with the same logic he applies to tasting a fine wine. The grape was merely grown in the right place, under the right conditions. Some degree of nurturing and love mixed with later moments of being completely trampled on and walked all over.

that's the problem with paradise—nothing attracts a serpent quite like it.

Summer The seasons between spring and autumn, comprising in the Northern Hemisphere the warmest months of the year: June, July and August. The period of finest development, perfection, or beauty previous to any decline; the summer of life.

Art is like a light to me, illuminating the darkest corners of everything.

The flower display continued through the town. Window boxes adorned the shop fronts, hanging baskets hung from patent black lampposts, trees grew tall in the main street. Each building was painted a different refreshing color and the main street, the only street, was a rainbow of mint greens, salmon pinks, lilacs, lemons, and blues. The pavements were litter free and gleaming as soon as you averted your gaze above the gray slate roofs you found yourself surrounded by majestic green mountains.