Quotes About Beauty

Wanted: a needle swift enough to sew this poem into a blanket

When Walt became all wrapped up in the theme parks and live-action films, we tried to get him interested in animation again," recalls Frank Thomas, one of the Studio's "Nine Old Men." "Walt said, 'If I ever do go back, there are only two subjects I would want to do. One of them is Beauty and the Beast .' For the life of me, I can't remember what the other one was.

The rainbow bursts like magic on mine eyes! In hues of ancient promise there imprest...

There's a beauty in birds on the wing, That stirs the heart and makes earthbound creatures Long for flight, but the larks above the battlefield Are silenced by the sounds of war. I have watched birds out at sea, Catching the wind, And longed to follow them, To some safe place far from here.

All beauty returns. Wait a little.

They're beautiful hands," he said; "though they've ruined the world, they're beautiful hands.

Up the street a song cloud floats by, sagging a bit, but still intact. I walk faster and catch up with it just in time to hear the ending, a symphony orchestra, the sound full and resplendent, and it is one of those times, you know those times every so often when you hear the right piece of music at the right time, and it just makes you think.

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, which is a pity because this week the National Association of Beholders wrote to tell me that I've got a face like a rucksack full of dented bells.

Why should poetry have to make sense?

I do not have much patience with a thing of beauty that must be explained to be understood. If it does need additional interpretation by someone other than the creator, then I question whether it has fulfilled its purpose.

We're here to bring beauty to the world and make a difference in this planet. That's what art forms are about.

I just try to play music from my heart and bring as much beauty as I can to as many people as I can. Just give them other alternatives, especially people who aren't exposed to creative music.

But wanderlust is like a pretty girl - you wake up one morning, find she's grown old and decide that either you're going to commit your life or you're going to walk away.

If we were poets, we'd starve on words.

it is not news that we live in a world Where beauty is unexplainable And suddenly ruined And has its own routines. We are often far From home in a dark town, and our griefs Are difficult to translate into a language Understood by others.

I grew up on Bette Davis movies, and Marlene Dietrich, Marilyn Monroe.

Do you think, because I am poor, obscure, plain and little, I am soulless and heartless? You think wrong! - I have as much soul as you, - and full as much heart! And if God had gifted me with some beauty and much wealth, I should have made it as hard for you to leave me, as it is now for me to leave you!

Beth…Beth… He whispered her name in his mind, unwilling to break the spell that surrounded them with any sound. He did not want to hear his voice; the only sounds he desired were the soft inhalations of Beth's breath, her sighs of pleasure, the brush of his body and hers as he loved her. She was beautiful, so perfect. He wanted to sit back and feast his eyes on her, sear her into his memory, lying like this, waiting for him.

Men were men. They all wanted beauty. Such shallow, fickle, heartless creatures.

While most streams of Buddhism take a contemplative stance on passion, pleasure, and pain, Sufism encourages us to be open to our passions - to dive into the sea, to become at one with the beauty and power of the waves.

And perhaps it is not too beautiful a thing to believe in this redeemed world, that, as the babe turns to his mother though he has no power to say her name, as the flowers turn to the sun, so the hearts of the children turn to their Saviour and God with unconscious delight and trust. Nursery

We probably read Shakespeare in the first place for his stories, afterwards for his characters. . . . To become intimate with Shakespeare in this way is a great enrichment of mind and instruction of conscience. Then, by degrees, as we go on reading this world-teacher, lines of insight and beauty take possession of us, and unconsciously mould our judgments of men and things and of the great issues of life.

But still it was a lovely thing Through the grey months to wait for Spring

You were sunrise to me rise and warm and streaming.' - Praise Song For My Mother by Charlotte Mew