Quotes About Beauty

She told him that he had the most beautiful voice she'd ever heard, that it sounded like whiskey and wood smoke.

She had straight brown hair that fell to her shoulders, a rock the size of a Prius on her left ring finger, and she might have been pretty if the skin weren't stretched so tight against her face it gave her the unfortunate look of someone who'd been struck by lightning during an orgasm.

Soft waves broke against the rocks.

Autumn died in technicolor all around us. Bright yellows and reds afire, burnished oranges and rusty greens painted the leaves that floated from the branches, collected in the grass.

We live in a world in which people can do unbelievably beautiful or unbelievably horrible things to other people. And if those horrible acts argue against the existence of God, then the beautiful acts must argue for God's existence.

The gods are being kind to me in my old age. Most beautiful women are either good, stupid or vicious. And you are the marvellous exception. Lovely as a goddess, clever as an Athenian and a bad hat like myself, yet one who still has decent feelings. I'm going to kiss the lips off you once we land in France.

Why couldn't they love the place, same way, together, the way he always loved her, even with his sore? Love Helen like a wife in good and bad weather, in sickness and in health, its beauty in being poor? The way the leaves loved her, not like a pink leaflet printed with slogans of black people fighting war?

The process we embarked on through the TRC was, as all real growth proves to be, astoundingly painful and profoundly beautiful.

Era ella como un bosque, como la oscura red de las ramas del roble, con un susurro inaudible de miles de yemas brotando. Y mientras tanto los pájaros del deseo dormían en la vasta maraña del laberinto de su cuerpo.

He realizes finally that the boy he's been watching snap his board into the air, then neatly touch down- long, black, gleaming hair, pale white skin- is Felice. He didn't know she'd learned how to skateboard. He's never seen her like this before- so intently focused and content- her beauty beside the point, merely part of the catalog of effects- speed, balance, daring. He admires her athletic form and feels moved in some unexpected way.

It's a big formless, arctic night, the stars so bright they seem to hiss. I walk with my hands in pockets, arms pressed to my sides. Even in my down parka, the cold is still there. I feel as though my blood is crackling in it, my bones conducting cold like wires. My toes are curled in their boots.

Look, how the holly grows so thickly on this path: wonderful shiny green leaves, and the reddest of berries. Shall we gather some, for decorations? My mother will be pleased. Here is my penknife

I thought the force of my wanting must wake ye, surely. And then ye did come. . . He stopped, looking at me with eyes gone soft and dark. Christ, Claire, ye were so beautiful, there on the stair, wi' your hair down and the shadow of your body with the light behind ye…. He shook his head slowly. I did think I should die, if I didna have ye, he said softly. Just then.

Any piece of good music is in essence a love song.

A tall, straight-bodied, and by no means ill-favored young Highlander at close range is breath-taking.

It's only that ye looked so beautiful, wi' the fire on your face, and your hair waving in the wind. I wanted to remember it.

My own eyes went to Jamie, who had come to join Fergus and Ian by the sideboard. Still here, thank God. Tall and graceful, the soft light making shadows in the folds of his shirt as he moved, a fugitive gleam from the long straight bridge of his nose, the auburn wave of his hair. Still mine. Thank God.

You are beautiful," he whispered to me. "If you say so." "Do ye not believe me? Have I ever lied to you?" "That's not what I mean. I mean—if you say it, then it's true. You make it true.

You're beautiful to me, Jamie," I said softly, at last. "So beautiful, you break my heart.

Ye've no idea how lovely ye look, stark naked, wi' the sun behind you. All gold, like ye were dipped in it.

I wouldna cross the road to see a scrawny woman if she was stark naked and dripping wet. ~Jamie Fraser

Don't move, Sassenach, Jamie's voice came softly, next to me. Just for a moment, mo duinne--be still. I obligingly froze, until he touched me on the shoulder. That's all right, Sassenach, he said, with a smile in his voice. It's only that ye looked so beautiful, wi' the fire on your face, and your hair waving in the wind. I wanted to remember it.

I regarded him gently over my own bowl of stew. He was very large, solid, and beautifully formed. And if he was a bit battered by circumstance, that merely added to his charm. You're a very hard person to kill, I think, I said. That's a great comfort to me.

I am thinking that you're verra beautiful, Sassenach, he said softly. Maybe if one has a taste for gooseflesh on a large scale, I said tartly, stepping out of the tub and reaching for the cup. He grinned suddenly at me, teeth flashing white in the dimness of the cellar. Oh, aye, he said. Well, you're speaking to the only man in Scotland who has a terrible cockstand at sight of a plucked chicken.