Quotes About Beauty

Every time I see you," he murmured, "I think you couldn't possibly become any more beautiful—and you always prove me wrong.

Turn over, Helen." An approving sound, very nearly a purr, left his throat as she obeyed. He looked down at her with eyes as bright as the reflection of stars in a midnight ocean. So brutally handsome, like one of the volatile gods of mythology, wreaking havoc on hapless mortal maidens at a whim. And he was hers.

I don't need any trinkets or pictures to remind me of my faith—all I need to do is stare out the window at the woods, and see how beautiful they are.

After swinging the child easily from his shoulders to the ground, Lord St. Vincent opened the carriage door on Pandora's side. The full blaze of midday gilded his perfect features and struck brilliant lights in his bronze-gold hair. Fact #13 she wanted to write. Lord St. Vincent walks around with his own personal halo. The man had too much of everything. Looks, wealth, intelligence, breeding, and virile good health. Fact #14 Some people are living proof of an unjust universe.

No sugarcoating would be necessary," Matthew interrupted calmly. "Daisy…that is, Miss Bowman, is entirely—" Beautiful. Desirable. Bewitching. "—acceptable. Marrying a woman like Miss Bowman would be a reward in itself.

I want you too badly, love. I want you the way dry earth soaks up rain. There may have been a time in my life when I could have seen you like this and still had some hope of self-control. Although I doubt it. I've never seen anything as beautiful as you.

Every night for the rest of my life, I'll dream of the afternoon in the holloway, when I was waylaid by a dark-haired beauty who devastated me with the heat of a thousand troubled stars, and left my soul in cinders. Even when I'm an old man, and my brain has fallen to wrack and ruin, I'll remember the sweet fire of your lips under mine, and I'll say to myself, 'Now, that was a kiss.'" Silver-tongued

St. Vincent. Her husband. He was naked, or at least the upper half of him was. He slept on his stomach, his smoothly muscled arms curved around the pillow beneath his head. The broad lines of his shoulders and back were so perfect that they seemed to have been carved from Baltic amber and sanded to a ghostly finish. His face was much softer in repose than it was in wakefulness... the calculating eyes were closed, and his mouth was relaxed into gentle, innocently sensuous lines.

She had made Matthew want to smile. With her luminous skin, her exotic cinnamon-colored eyes and quicksilver expressions, Daisy Bowman seemed to have come from an enchanted forest populated with mythical creatures.

St. Vincent. Her husband. He was naked, or at least the upper half of him was. He slept on his stomach, his smoothly muscled arms curved around the pillow beneath his head. The broad lines of his shoulders and back were so perfect that they seemed to have been carved from pale Baltic amber and sanded to a glossy finish. His face was much softer in repose than it was in wakefulness... the calculating eyes were closed, and his mouth was relaxed into gentle, innocently sensuous lines.

Aline found herself walking quickly, almost running, to her favorite place by the river, where a wildflower meadow sloped down to tall grasses alive with meadow-brown and marbled-white butterflies.

It is one of my failings, to love beautiful things so dearly.

A gorgeous woman was never expected to be smart, and if she was, most people found it off-putting. There was only so much good fortune a normal person could forgive in another

She was wearing her best dress, a ball gown made of iridescent shot silk, which appeared silver from one angle, and lavender from another. The front was simple in design, with a smooth, tight-fitting bodice and a low scooped neckline. A web of intricate tucks in the back flowed into a cascade of silk that fluttered and shimmered whenever she moved.

What a lovely jaw," she murmured, admiring the clean edge. "I've never properly appreciated it before." West waited until the blade lifted from his skin before replying. "I was just thinking the same thing about your breasts.

Beatrix had worn her best gown, made of shimmering aniline violet. The bodice was scooped low, revealing a generous expanse of fair skin. Her hair had been curled and swept up with a multitude of pearl-tipped pins- other than that, she wore no adornment.

He loved the colors of her, pink and mauve and ivory, all washed in light. The glistening tumble of her hair held the colors of autumn: chestnut, maple, russet, umber.

West took a step back, dropped the combs to the floor, and reached out to grasp a handful of shining red hair. He brought a few of the ruddy locks to his face, stroking them over his cheeks and mouth, and kissed them. His face was grave, almost severe, as he stared at her with absolute concentration. "How can you be so beautiful?

Do you feel any attraction to Lord Lambert? Butterflies swirling inside?" "No, but... I do like his looks..." "It doesn't matter if he's handsome," her sister had said with authority. Cassandra had smiled wryly. "Pandora, it's not as if you married a bridge troll.

Pandora made the mistake of looking up. No woman would have been unaffected by the sight of that archangel's face above hers. So far, the privileged young men she had met during the Season seemed to be striving for a certain ideal, a kind of cool aristocratic confidence. But none of them came remotely close to this dazzling stranger, who had undoubtedly been indulged and admired his entire life.

In a few minutes, West had pinned Phoebe against a corner wall of the winter garden, in a sheltered space of stone and feathery leaves. He possessed her with passion-roughened kisses, almost eating at her mouth, greedily drawing in the honeysuckle taste of her. Her skin was milk-white with golden flecks, smoothness quivering at the stroke of his tongue.

You are everything that's ever been my favorite thing," she wanted to tell him. "You are my love song, my birthday cake, the sound of ocean waves and French words and a baby's laugh. You're a snow angel, crème brulée, a kaleidoscope filled with glitter. I love you and you'll never catch up, because I've gotten a head start and my heart is racing at light speed.

Amanda Briars was a beautiful woman masquerading as a plain one…she was funny, intelligent, brave, practical, and, most of all, interesting.

In truth, I find the ocean unnerving. Too vast. I much prefer the forests around Stony Cross. They're always fascinating, and full of commonplace miracles... spiderwebs glittering with rain, new trees growing from the trunks of fallen oaks. I wish you could see them with me. And together we would listen to the wind rushing through the leaves overhead, a lovely swooshy melody... tree music!