Quotes About Beauty

Death is the most beautiful adventure in life.

Because the world is so full of death and horror, I try again and again to console my heart and pick the flowers that grow in the midst of hell.

I want to be a pretty corpse.

Everything ends with flowers.

If, after I depart this vale, you ever remember me and have thought to please my ghost, forgive some sinner and wink your eye at some homely girl.

I've developed into quite a swan. I'm one of those people that will probably look better and better as I get older - until I drop dead of beauty.

Nothing can happen more beautiful than death.

Beauty stands and waits with gravity to start her death-defying leap

And suns grow meek, and the meek suns grow brief, and the year smiles as it draws near its death.

There are days we live as if death were nowhere in the background; from joy to joy to joy, from wing to wing, from blossom to blossom to impossible blossom, to sweet impossible blossom.

When I think of death, I only regret that I will not be able to see this beautiful country anymore unless the Indians are right and my spirit will walk here after I'm gone.

Death is the only real elegance.

Time takes the ugliness and horror out of death and turns it into beauty.

To quit this troubled world is better than to enter it: the rosebud enters the garden with straitened heart and departs smiling.

Even for the dead I will not bind my soul to grief, death cannot long divide; for is it not as if the rose that climbed my garden wall had bloomed the other side?

They are not long, the days of wine and roses. Out of a misty dream, our path emerges for a while, then closes, within a dream.

Death lies on her like an untimely frost.

Day's lustrous eyes grow heavy in sweet death.

Death is a name for beauty not in use.

Death rides on every passing breeze, He lurks in every flower.

Beauty means the scent of roses and then the death of roses

Before thee stands this fair Hesperides, With golden fruit, but dangerous to be touched; For death-like dragons here affright thee hard.

From an aunt, long ago: "Death has come for me many times but finds me always in my lovely garden and leaves me there, I think, as an excuse to return.

It is only to those who have never lived that death ever can seems beautiful.