Quotes About Beauty

That Paradis stood formed in her yën.

What is better than wisdom? Woman. And what is better than a good woman? Nothing.

Dig -- the mostly uncouth -- language of grace.

Our sense of beauty was shaped by evolution to embody awareness of what is difficult as opposed to easy, rare as opposed to common, costly as opposed to cheap, skillful as opposed to talentless, and fit as opposed to unfit.

It seems likely that male choice shaped breasts not to distinguish girls from women, but to distinguish young women from older women. Here, the informative thing about breasts is the way they droop with the effects of age and gravity.

With Truth, Reason, and Morality off the board, we then capture their last Rook —that prissy little virtue, Temperance— for she depends on those other three for her beauty and was thus left wholly undefended.

Meine Seele, meine Seele stinkt nach Brandewein. - Selbst das Geld geht in Verwesung über. Vergissmeinnicht. Wie ist dieses Welt so schön. Bruder, ich muss ein Regenfass voll greinen. Ich wollt unsre Nasen wären zwei Bouteillen und wir könnten sie uns einander in den Hals gießen.

But when I was twelve years old I caught my first strong glimpse of one of the fundamental forces of existence, whose votary I was destined to be for life - namely, Beauty.

My beautiful proof lies all in ruins.

The essence of mathematics is in its freedom.

There is no mistaking a good book when one meets it. It is like falling in love.

You believe I run after the strange because I do not know the beautiful; no, it is because you do not know the beautiful that I seek the strange.

Imaginas que yo persigo lo extraño por ignorancia de lo bello, pero no es así, ocurre que porque tu ignoras lo bello, yo busco lo extraño.

The most brightly colored birds sing the worst; the same goes for people.

Los hombres más sanos, más hermosos y mejor proporcionados son quienes están de acuerdo con todo. En cuanto se padece un defecto se tiene una opinión propia.

Nuestros tiempos, donde los insectos coleccionan insectos y las mariposas hablan de mariposas.

Con demasiada frecuencia la "noble sencillez" en las obras de la naturaleza tiene su origen en la noble ignorancia de quien las contempla.

Under the dominion of the priests our earth became the ascetic planet; a squalid den careering through space, peopled by discontented and arrogant creatures, who were disgusted with life, abhorred their globe as a vale of tears, and who in their envy and hatred of beauty and joy did themselves as much harm as possible.

In den einsamen Stunden des Geistes ist es schön in der Sonne zu gehn, an den gelben Mauern des Sommers hin

The thrush called strangeness into the sunset.

Shepherds buried the sun in the naked forest. With a net of hair A fisherman hauled the moon from the icy pond. The pale man dwells In a blue crystal, his cheek at rest against his stars, Or he bows his head in crimson sleep. But the black flight of birds always touches The watcher, the holiness of blue flowers; The nearby silence thinks forgotten things, extinguished angels. Again the brow turns night in moonlit stone; A radiant youth, The sister appears in autumn and black putrefaction.

On silver soles I climbed down the thorny stairs, and I walked into the white-washed room. A light burned there silently, and without speaking I wrapped my head in purple linen; and the earth threw out a childlike body, a creature of the moon, that slowly stepped out of the darkness of my shadow, with broken arms, stony waterfalls sank away, fluffy snow

So quiet are the green woods Of our homeland, The crystalline wave Dying away by the ruined wall, And we wept in sleep; Wandering with timid steps Down past the thorny thicket, Singers in summer's eve, In the sacred peace Of the far resplendent vineyard; Shadows now in the cool womb Of night, grief-stricken eagles. As gently does a moonlit beam close The scarlet scars of melancholy.

Spiders seek my heart. There is a light that dies in my mouth. At night I found myself upon a heath, Thick with filth and stardust. In the hazel copse Crystal angels have chimed again.