Quotes About Beauty

Años de acarrear el agua, retorcer la colada, fregar los suelos, vaciar los orinales, sin que la belleza o el color o la luz entraran en mi vida, se extendían ante mí como una paisaje llano en el que se divisa el mar a lo lejos, pero nunca puedes alcanzarlo. Si no podía trabajar fabricando los colores, si no podía estar cerca de él, no sabía cómo iba a poder seguir trabajando en aquella casa.

Most other front gardens when planted with flowers looked both formal and artificial. Judith Haymaker, for instance, had put in daffodil and hyacinth bulbs so that they came up in rigid rows, a sight English women would have smiled at. While plentiful, Mrs Reed's flowers had a randomness about them that reminded Honor of coming upon primroses or anemones in the woods. They were just there, as if they always had been. It took real skill to remove the gardener's hand from the garden.

The beauty of this girl standing behind him was not just physical, though. It seemed to O that she was lit from within by something most kids either did not have or hid deep inside: soul. He thought no one could ever hate her, and that was rare in this world. She was there to make things better.

She was beautiful?not a word anyone usually used to describe an eleven-year-old girl. Cute was more common, or pretty. Beautiful dug deeper than a girl that age could normally stand up to. But Dee was beautiful.

Jem gazed up into the proper deep blue he knew well from Dorsetshire, coupled with the vivid green of the roadside grass and shrubs, and found himself smiling at these colors that were so natural and yet shouted louder than any London ribbon or dress.

The scientific spirit, the contempt of tradition, the lack of discipline and the exaltation of the individual have very nearly made an end of art. It can only be restored by the love of beauty, the reverence for tradition, the submission to discipline and the rigor of self-control.

Co-eye, kor-fie, alla same tree. . . . That's part of a poem, believe it or not. These are seeds of a tree, golden seeds for golden flowers.

It's sad when girls think they don't have anything going on except being pretty.

Your life is your art.

I think it's because it's startling every time - every single time - that such beauty and such loss coincide in every life, in every soul, in every memory.

The butterfly danced on the flower.

She wondered, briefly, if she was beautiful, decided she was and blew a kiss to her reflection

Did anyone ever tell you that you're unbearably beautiful when you get released from policy custody, girl?" he asked. "I can't say that they have. And I apparently wasn't in custody. Just too ignorant to leave on my own.

Sein Herz zu verlieren, ist die schönste Art festzustellen, dass man eines hat.

No hay mujeres tímidas. Detrás de un parpadeo aparentemente tímido solo se oculta su simpleza

good heavens above, the poor child has more freckles than there are stars in the sky! if she doesn't start using a good bleaching lotion at once, she'll never catch a good husband!" -James Augustus Peregrine Pympoole-Bothame

E se tu dormissi? E se nel sonno tu sognassi? E se nel tuo sogno salissi al cielo e lì cogliessi un mirabile fiore? E se al tuo risveglio quel fiore fosse fra le tue mani? (Samuel Taylor Coleridge)

Life is a great adventure, darling, and problems are nothing more than opportunities to show what you can do. Show them, darling. You are young and beautiful and full of imagination.

Losing your heart is the most beautiful way to find out you have one.

Decidme, pues, ¿cómo debería apreciar los encantos que un cielo para mí en un infierno transformaron?

Elizabeth I was so ugly that she couldn't get a husband. So everyone called her the ugly virgin." -Gordon Gelderman

He put his hands on my shoulders, held me close, and looked into my eyes. "Do you know how damn beautiful you are, Liv Silver?

Garden writing is often very tame, a real waste when you think how opinionated, inquisitive, irreverent and lascivious gardeners themselves tend to be. Nobody talks much about the muscular limbs, dark, swollen buds, strip-tease trees and unholy beauty that have made us all slaves of the Goddess Flora.

From some infinite distance, ten thousand twists of light are suddenly projected into your eyes. You watch as they shimmer and tighten together like the hooks of metal in a tangle of barbed wire. More and more of them appear, filling in the gaps one by one, and soon you are conscious of nothing else. What would the sky be like if there was nothing to see but stars? You know that you will not experience anything so beautiful again.