Quotes About Beauty

Aunque cantaba en voz baja, la pureza y la belleza de la voz de Zsadist eran impresionantes. Siempre había tenido voz de tenor. En las raras ocasiones en que cantaba, los sonidos que salían de su boca eran asombrosos, capaces de hacer que el tiempo se detuviera y se deslizara hacia la eternidad.

Cuando sus ojos se encontraron, Butch sintió una extraña calma. No iba a luchar. Iba a entrar apaciblemente a la noche eterna, de la mano de su mejor amigo, en una muerte hermosa y dulce.

The idea of putting on twenty pounds in one night was damned appealing; it really was. She couldn't help the way her face looked, but she was willing to bet that Neanderthal misogynist attacker of hers preferred his victims with a tight ass.

gifts are like beauty, are they not. It is in the eye of the recipient that they find their seat, not in the hand of the giver.

MOUNTAINS OF CALDWELL, NEW YORK, PRESENT DAY T

Los delicados copos que caían entre su pelo negro y corto y sobre esos hombros desnudos y fuertes no lograban suavizar su imagen ni un poco. Ella no era ningún ángel que estaba siendo amable con él por una razón sencilla. Era perversa, peligrosa e impredecible. Y él la amaba.

La bestia era hermosa, pensó. Hermosa como lo es una cobra, cuya posible fealdad queda eclipsada por sus movimientos airosos y veloces, por una admirable inteligencia predadora.

Por Dios, aunque su cara tenía una expresión dura, la voz de Zsadist era tan suave y hermosa como la llama de la vela!

Life is such a glorious trauma, is it not, Wrath murmured.

DEDICATED TO: YOU. In the beginning, we didn't hit it off, did we? but then I reaslised the truth about you and I fell in love. Thank you for letting me see through your eyes and walk awhile in your boots. you are just so...beautiful.

The clarinet in its most perfect form is a strange beast--if it is imperfect, it is also completely untamable.

Much of the beauty that arises in art comes from the struggle an artist wages with his limited medium. — HENRI MATISSE

What we feel most has no name but amber, archers, cinnamon, horses and birds.

The Japanese think it strange we paint our old wooden houses when it takes so long to find the wabi in them. They prefer the bonsai tree after the valiant blossoming is over, the leaves fallen. When bareness reveals a merit born in the vegetable struggling.

beautiful insane in the rain

On soft Spring nights I'll stand in the yard under the stars - Something good will come out of all things yet - And it will be golden and eternal just like that - There's no need to say another word.

Let the mind beware, that though the flesh be bugged, the circumstances of existence are pretty glorious.

And when the fog's over and the stars and the moon come out at night it'll be a beautiful sight.

Pretty girls make graves

It seemed like a matter of minutes when we began rolling in the foothills before Oakland and suddenly reached a height and saw stretched out ahead of us the fabulous white city of San Francisco on her eleven mystic hills with the blue Pacific and its advancing wall of potato-patch fog beyond, and smoke and goldenness in the late afternoon of time.

I think it's a lovely hallucination but I love it sorta.

He had never felt anything like that before - yet somehow he knew that from now on he would always feel like that, always, and something caught at his throat as he realized what a strange sad adventure life might get to be, strange and sad and still much more beautiful and amazing than he could ever have imagined because it was so really, strangely sad.

Though the flesh be bugged, the circumstances of existence are still pretty glorious.

Overpowered by the sadness of not knowing what there is in the world, and what I'm doing. Feeling completely indifferent to good and evil too, to beauty or anything else. I know that this is the root of all human troubles, all of them. Indifferent to that knowledge, too. Nothing got written.