Quotes About Beauty

A true gardener would never pretend that gardening is all pleasure, or that it always prompts reflection. But she might claim that in the garden she has tasted Paradise.

The fruit of the garden is not restricted to what we eat. Every garden lends something more to the imagination - beauty.

Henry Mitchell, in his book One Man's Garden, observes that it is not important for a garden to be beautiful in everyone's eyes. But it is extremely important for the gardener to think it is a fair substitute for Eden. Perhaps this is an overstatement, or perhaps it is a theological truth.

A Bela e a Fera" ensina a lição simples, mas importante de que as aparências podem enganar e aquilo que é visto nem sempre é o que parece ser.

Le Silence est la Poésie meme pour moi.

Le Silence est la Poésie même pour moi.

The really magical things are the ones that happen right in front of you. A lot of the time you keep looking for beauty, but it is already there. And if you look with a bit more intention, you see it.

We cannot, after all, judge a biography by its length, by the number of pages in it; we must judge by the richness of the contents...Sometimes the 'unfinisheds' are among the most beautiful symphonies.

The second way of finding a meaning in life is by experiencing something—such as goodness, truth and beauty—by experiencing nature and culture or, last but not least, by experiencing another human being in his very uniqueness—by loving him.

Y entonces, después de dar unos pasos en silencio, un prisionero le dijo a otro: ¡Qué bello podría ser el mundo!

We came to meadows full of flowers. We saw and realized that they were there, but we had no feelings about them. The first spark of joy came when we saw a rooster with a tail of multicolored feathers. But it remained only a spark; we did not yet belong to this world.

If someone had seen our faces on the journey from Auschwitz to a Bavarian camp as we beheld the mountains of Salzburg with their summits glowing in the sunset, through the little barred windows of the prison carriage, he would never have believed that those were the faces of men who had given up all hope of life and liberty. Despite that factor - or maybe because of it - we were carried away by nature's beauty

Una vida activa cumple con la finalidad de brindar al hombre la posibilidad de desempeñar un trabajo que le proporciona valores creativos; una vida contemplativa también le concede la posibilidad de hallar la plenitud al experimentar la belleza, el arte o la naturaleza. Pero también atesora sentido una vida exenta de creación o contemplación, que solo admite una única capacidad de respuesta: la actitud de mantenerse erguido ante su inexorable destino

As the inner life of the prisoner tended to become more intense, he also experienced the beauty of art and nature as never before. Under their influence he sometimes even forgot his own frightful circumstances.

Nos embrujaba la belleza de la naturaleza, de la que el cautiverio nos privó durante tanto tiempo.

As the inner life of the prisoner tended to become more intense, he also experienced the beauty of art and nature as never before.

How beautiful the world could be!

Come potrebbe essere bello il mondo!

M]an not only finds his life meaningful through his deeds, his works, his creativity, but also through his experiences, his encountering what is true, good, and beautiful in the world, and, last but not least, his encounter with another, a fellow human being in his very uniqueness.

We came to meadows full of flowers. We saw and realized that they were there, but we had no feelings about them. The first spark of joy came when we saw a rooster with a tail of multicolored feathers. But it remained only a spark; we did not yet belonged to this world.

Occasionally I looked at the sky, where the stars were fading and the pink light of the morning was beginning to spread behind a dark bank of clouds. But my mind clung to my wife's image, imagining it with an uncanny acuteness. I heard her answering me, saw her smile, her frank and encouraging look. Real or not, her look was then more luminous than the sun which was beginning to rise.

I blew my nose, blotted my eyes, buried as much of my face as I could in my handkerchief, and blurted out a feeble: Sorry...something in my eye. The voice said: Yes...beauty.

Rosalia. Rosa e lia. Rosa che ha inebriato, rosa che ha confuso, rosa che ha sventato, rosa che ha rá½¹so, il mio cervello s'è mangiato.

Un ser ausente de su belleza es doblemente más bello