Quotes About Beauty

She was a classic beauty. She looked like a coin, so it was only natural for her to circulate.

Like untuned golden strings all women are,Which long time lie untouched, will harshly jar.Vessels of brass oft handled brightly shine.

By shallow rivers, to whose fallsMelodious birds sing madrigals.

And I will make thee beds of rosesAnd a thousand fragrant posies.

Goodness is beauty in the best estate.

O, thou art fairer than the evening air clad in the beauty of a thousand stars.

Was this the face that launched a thousand ships, and burnt the topless towers of Ileum?

Come live with me and be my Love, And we will all the pleasures prove

Try the meditation of the trail, just walk along looking at the trail at your feet and don't look about and just fall into a trance as the ground zips by," Kerouac wrote. "Trails are like that: you're floating along in a Shakespearean Arden paradise and expect to see nymphs and fluteboys, then suddenly you're struggling in a hot broiling sun of hell in dust and nettles and poison oak… just like life.

To look at this country is grand; to travel in it, is Hell,

an utterly spellbinding slice of earth, like no place I'd even seen"—a Willy Wonka world of lime-green pools and pink crystal towers and subterranean waterfalls.

Comencé a embriagarme con la vista que tenía alrededor, observando como el sol se alzaba sobre la falda de la montaña, tiñendo el río de dorado. En breve me encontraría a la altura de esa cima.

Kairos was young and wing-footed and forever gorgeous, despite having no hair except a single shock over his forehead. Kairos is the god of golden opportunities and guardian of outlaws, and he could work wonders for you if you were quick enough to grab him by the forelock.

My wife has brought great beauty into my life. And my daughter has brought me nothing but joy. Those qualities were greatly lacking.

There is no mistaking a real book when one meets it. It's like falling in love.

In every man's heart there is a secret nerve that answers to the vibrations of beauty.

Overhead the night was a superb arch of clear frost, sifted with stars.

Books are the immortality of the race, the father and mother of most that is worth while cherishing in our hearts. To spread good books about, to sow them on fertile minds, to propagate understanding and a carefulness of life and beauty, isn't that high enough mission for a man?

That's when a woman finds herself--when she's in love. I don't care if she is old or fat or homely or prosy. She feels that little flutter under her ribs and she drops from the tree like a ripe plum.

There is no mistaking a real book when one meets it. It is like falling in love.

A bud is a flower-to-be. A flower in waiting. Waiting for just the right warmth and care to open up. It's a little fist of love waiting to unfold and be seen by the world. And that's you.

I read her eyes like paragraphs and her tears like chapters for she didn't have much to say with words, but rather, silence. And never let them tell you that silence, isn't beautiful. For silence is what happens when words fall asleep and you must carry the belief that one day they will wake up inside of you.

I stood alone beneath the stars and shouted to the heavens at the top of my lungs and what was so beautiful was the way the stars shined when the sky swallowed your name.

For there is a sound reasoning upon all flowers. For flowers are peculiarly the poetry of Christ.