Quotes About Beauty

He who would gather roses must not fear thorns.

Truths and roses have thorns about them.

From the thorn bush comes the rose.

The rose has thorns only for those who would gather it.

The gardener who loves roses is slave to a thousand thorns.

Love sees roses without thorns.

No more be grieved at that which thou hast done: Roses have thorns, and silver fountains mud; Clouds and eclipses stain both moon and sun, And loathsome canker lives in sweetest bud...

Nature grows beautiful new life over old scars.

A scar is a moment of your life preserved like the imprint of a pressed flower in a scrapbook.

There's no one season such delight can bring As summer, autumn, winter, and the spring.

the vibrant green-yellow-pink blossom-life of spring the watery-blue radiant sunshine-breath of summer the metallic-earth-toned glowing-decay of autumn the grey-white holly-festive slow-motion of winter

late winter and early spring blend and blur in pleasant days and chilly nights penetrating sun and gentle cool breezes with stirrings of life, subtle and green — mornings that light ever earlier rouse us, but sunsets that still come in evening's youth lull

The cold dull glow of winter warms to the colorful brilliance of springtime.

A bud can be beautiful, a work of art even. But I'm finding it simply can't compare to the openness of the blossom. Looking for my sun.

My life is a twisted rainbow.

The treasure of self is buried under the rainbow and yet glows beyond the sun.

Spring scarce had greener fields to show than these Of mid-September...

Soft-eyed September...

Lush juices of ripe fruits, splashed color flung From Frost's first palette, purple, gold, and red; The last sweet song the meadow lark has sung,— Dirge of the summer dead.

The act of coitus and the members employed therein are of such ugliness that were it not for the beauty of the faces and the adornments of the lovers, for the pent-up impulse and the frenetic state of mind, nature would lose the human species.

The sculptor produces the beautiful statue by chipping away such parts of the marble block as are not needed — it is a process of elimination.

Snowflakes are kisses from heaven.

The snow is sparkling like a million little suns.

When snow falls, nature listens.