Quotes About Beauty

day when we were young and lovely.

He needs to be the kind of guy who thinks you're beautiful when you're not. So, for example, he wouldn't care if you live in yoga pants even though you hate yoga.

At twenty-one, Mark had been long and leanly muscled, not a spare inch on him. Rainey's gaze ran down his thirty-four-year-old body and she had to admit he was even better now. In fact, the only way to improve on that body would be to dip it into chocolate.

You're so pretty, Joe. It's really a shame that you're such a dumbass.

Look at you… You're perfect. Not… perfect. Perfect to me…

Sometimes, something so beautiful happens, you can't process it and it builds up inside so big, you can't do anything but cry.

That this woman talking to him had large, melting brown eyes and long brown hair the color of a doe's, on a face meant for an artist's canvas, all attached to a nifty little compact body that could tempt the gods meant nothing. She was insane.

With the way the light shone on her, she looked spotlighted, as if a painter had rendered her that way, the center of someones world.

The true beauty of physics, for me, is found not only in abstract equations or in surprising experimental results, but in the deep underlying principles that govern the way the world is.

Even in winter, the cold isn't always bitter, and not every day is cruel.

I'm so pretty, it's hard for me to think of myself as intelligent.

Every soul is special. They're all beautiful. They're all far more significant than anyone on this rock realizes. I think when people are at their best, they're acting in accordance with their soul. The ones who have gone bad don't have bad souls. They've just given up on keeping in touch with them.

Living was a dangerous past-time, and often quite painful—but there was also such joy in living, such beauty, things that one would otherwise never see, never experience, never know. The risk of pain and loss was a part of living.

Her flawless pale skin was also spangled with gemstones. I don't know how they'd been attached, but they clung to her and sent little flashes of color glittering around the cavern when she moved. They were concentrated most densely around her ... well ... She'd been, ah, vajazzled.

A pair of dolphins swept by us in the water, flicking their heads out to get a look at us as they went. One of them made a chittering sound that wasn't very melodic. The other twitched its tail and splashed a little water our way, all in good fun. They weren't the attractive Flipper kind of dolphins. They were regular dolphins that aren't as pretty and don't get cast on television. Maybe they just refused to sell out and see a plastic surgeon. I held up a fist to them. Represent.

One ravishing dark-haired beauty wearing leather pants and strategically applied electrical tape, stared hard at me and, when she saw me looking, licked her lips very, very slowly. She trailed a fingertip over her chin, down across her throat, and down over her sternum and gave me a smile so wicked that it's parents should have sent it to military school.

People always equate beauty with good, but it just ain't so.

Doesn't matter how pretty you are. What's important is how pretty you feel. No one feels pretty when they hear no often enough.

The door burst open. Murphy came through it, her eyes living flames of azure blue, her hair a golden coronet around her. She held a blazing sword in her hand and she shone so bright and beautiful and terrifying in her anger that it was hard to see. The Sight, I realized, dimly. I was seeing her for who she was.

Because Thomas is too pretty to die. And because I'm too stubborn to die. And most of all because tomorrow is Oktoberfest, Butters, and polka will never die

Mab] was pale, beautiful on a scale that beggared simple description, and I harbored a healthy and rational terror of her.

Living was a dangerous past-time, and often quite painful—but there was also such joy in living, such beauty, things that one would otherwise never see, never experience, never know. The risk of pain and loss was a part of living. It made everything else mean more; beauty was more pure, more bright, pleasure more full and complete, laughter deeper, more satisfying—and contentment more perfect, more peaceful.

Wow. That's sort of pretty. In a Jaws kind of way.

That, I said, is an awfully lovely woman. I thought I should let you know, kid, in case your inexperience had blinded you to the fact. Lying, Ramirez stated, blushing. Evil.