Quotes About Beauty

Give yourself to these great works of art. They suffice for a lifetime.

Art is not cosy and it is not mocked. Art tells the only truth that ultimately matters. It is the light by which human things can be mended. And after art there is, let me assure you all, nothing.

And what an intense heavenly blue the sea is, not a dark blue at all, but like a cauldron of light.

Of course she had read this work many times before, but there were certain parts to which she passionately returned: so cool, so elegant, so beautiful, so terrible. As she read tears began to stream down her face.

All art deals with the absurd and aims at the simple. Good art speaks truth, indeed is truth, perhaps the only truth.

Cambridge by moonlight was light blue and brownish black. There was no mist here and a great vault of clear stars hung over the city with an intent luxurious brilliance. It was the sort of night when one knows of other galaxies. My long shadow glided before me on the pavement. Although it was not yet eleven o'clock the place seemed empty and I moved through it like a mysterious and lonely harlequin in a painting: like an assassin.

God, how the young and beautiful vanish and are no more seen.

Only art explains, and that cannot itself be explained.

Death drives away what rules everywhere else, the aesthetic.

I remained, leaning a little on her shoulder, my cheek touching her crown of golden hair. It was fading into grey. One day, without having noticed the transition, I would see that it was gold no longer.

It's just one of the wonders of the world.

Art is a vain and hollow show, a toy of gross illusions, unless it points beyond itself and moves ever whither it points.

Lately Louise had decided to give up wearing make-up altogether, but had not yet acted upon the decision.

Only the curve of her nostril and the curve of her mouth hinted, with a Jewish strength, a possible Jewish refinement.

Les esprits aiment la nuit, qui sait plus qu'une femme donner une âme à toutes choses.

Civilization is built by the artist, by the literary exponent, by the ability to generate beauty and music and new methods of expression.

It's all okay, it's all beautiful; but ah fear that this internal sea is gaunnae subside soon, leaving this poisonous shite washed up, stranded up in ma body.

no matter how early you rise or how late you turn in, you never see that point where light begins or the first bruise of darkness bleeds in under its fragile skin; the beauty, and the scary, unfathomable wisdom of transition.

That's the beauty aboot being polis: it doesnae really matter whether or not everybody hates you, as long as they're civil tae your face and can put up a good front. You can only live in the world you ken. The rest is just wishful thinking or paranoia.

It was, as the song said, 'call to arms music,' and seemed to have little to do with Scotland and New Year. It was fighting music. Stevie didn't want to fight anyone. But it was also beautiful music.

She's so fucking beautiful it don't bear thinking about. I could hardly keep my eyes on the fucking road. I sort of felt like I was wasting time whenever I wasn't looking at her face.

She's quite a nice looking lassie or she wid be if she didnae look shite.

There's some kids playing out in the back, the strip of grass luminated an electric green by the brilliant sunlight. The sky is a delicious clear blue. Life is beautiful. I'm going to enjoy it, and I'm going to have a long life.

Sundown, and the bellies of the clouds flush pink. Renton reflecting that no matter how early you rise or how late you turn in, you never see that point where light begins or the first bruise of darkness bleeds in under its fragile skin; the beauty, and the scary, unfathomable wisdom of transition.