Quotes About Beauty

There are those among the Folk so hideous that all living things shrink back in horror. And yet others have a grotesquerie so exaggerated, so voluptuous, that it comes all the way around to beauty

opulent patterns intricately stitched on skirts of gold and silver, each as beautiful as the dawn.

I climb into a cradle of branches and wait, petals falling around me with the sway of tree limbs. I lean my cheek against the rough bark, listening to the susurration of leaves.

I can see why humans succumb to the beautiful nightmare of the Court, why they willingly drown in it.

I am no Court lady with lips of carmine and butterflies in my hair. I am scrawny, like a stick bug.

Butter-blond hair threaded with gold blew around his face.

She is beautiful but unnerving to look at

But then a prince rides up and sees the girl and finds her beautiful. Beautiful, not despite her suffering, but because of it.

Eldred cups his hands, and the branches of the throne shudder and begin to grow, sending up new green shoots to spiral into the air, leaves unfurling and flower buds bursting along the length of them. The roots of the ceiling begin to worm, lengthening like vines and crawling across the underside of the hill. There is a scent in the air, like a summer breeze, heavy with the promise of apples.

He's so beautiful, so perfectly, horribly, inhumanely beautiful that I can barely breathe.

Of course I want to be like them. They're beautiful as blades forged in some divine fire. And Cardan is even more beautiful than the rest. I hate him so much that sometimes when I look at him, I can hardly breathe.

The walls shimmer with mica, and the ceiling is all branches and green vines. In the antechamber, the shell of an enormous snail glows, a lamp the size of a small table.

Her hair falls loose in a cascade of black curls, caught in a crown of magenta bougainvillea.

Am I beautiful like you are?" I ask Nicasia, genuinely curious. "No," she says, darting a look toward Valerian. She picks up something from the ground. "You are nothing like us.

They are beautiful and terrible, and they might despise my mortality, might mock it, but I am up here and they are not.

Cardan begins to strip off his shirt, showing an expanse of moon-pale skin and a back with a delicate tracery of faded scars.

Queen Annet sits on a throne covered in powdery white moths, each one fluttering its wings a little, giving the whole thing the effect of a moving carpet.

Prize out the gems, and your beauty would fade- not just the extra smidge they grant, but all your beauty, until you were so wretched that the sight of you would set even the Folk to screaming.

She was beautiful on land, but here she looks elemental, terrifying in her beauty.

She looks soft, pretty, like a girl in a painting. Like a girl who fits inside her own skin.

Como estrellas fugases. Hermosos, brillantes, pero efímeros.

I look pretty. The kind of pretty that allows monsters to deceive people into forests, into dances where they will find their doom.

Nicasia saunters over to where the smith is sitting. She wears a dress of purple that is peacock blue when it catches the light. Her hair is woven in to a braid that circles her head, and at her brow is a chain from which dangle dozens upon dozens of beads in sparkling purples and blues and amber.

Once, the thing I am wearing was a sundress, with fluttery sleeves. A diaphanous white gown that flowed around me when I spun. I found it in a shop late one night. I'd stripped off the clothes given to me in the Court of Teeth, left them behind, and put that on instead. I liked the dress so much that I wove myself a crown of hellebores and danced through the night streets. I stared at myself in puddles, convinced that as long as I didn't smile, I might even be pretty.