Quotes About Beauty

Beauty and strength were, both of them, much esteemed; Then wealth was discovered and soon after gold Which quickly became more honoured than strength or beauty. For men, however strong or beautiful, Generally follow the train of a richer man.

The clouds to the south had cleared, and the sun appeared, gradually pushing shadow down the hills, spreading light like syrup over the brown slopes and the forests down to the lake.

That's why I've kept you out of reach. It's like putting something you love away from everything so its beauty won't be tarnished. I want to be with you more, and them less. I want my life to change.

And they dare to rule the world! They have made it so ugly. Square houses! Their obsession with straight lines and right angles has ruined the earth! They consider all curves, all subtleties, all softness, all indefinites, female, and they shun them. They have poisoned and denatured everything they touch, and expect us to be grateful.

She stood eating soup in her overgrown garden, looking up at stars she could not name.

What riches there once were, what beauties! Raindrops on roses and crop tops on cuties. Now it's just tear gas and water hoses, and Mexican children tied up with strings. These are a few of their favourite things. Quarry every mountain, wreck every stream.

I boiled every equation down to these simple terms: was I lovable or was I ugly?

To laugh often and love much; To win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; To earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends; To appreciate beauty, to find the best in others; To leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch, or a redeemed social condition; To know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded.1

If the world's a veil of tears, Smile till rainbows span it.

To her bier Comes the year Not with weeping and distress, as mortals do, But, to guide her way to it, All the trees have torches lit; Blazing red the maples shine the woodlands through...

[O]ne can dream so much better in a room where there are pretty things.

Maybe it was true that only beauty would save the world, or truth, or some other high-flown garbage; but fear was still more powerful than anything else. Fear destroyed everything: everything born of beauty, the tender shoots of all that was fine, wise, eternal...

Waldeinsamkeit, Die mich erfreut, So morgen wie heut In ewger Zeit, O wie mich freut Waldeinsamkeit. Waldeinsamkeit Wie liegst du weit! O Dir gereut Einst mit der Zeit. Ach einzige Freud Waldeinsamkeit! Waldeinsamkeit Mich wieder freut, Mir geschieht kein Leid, Hier wohnt kein Neid Von neuem mich freut Waldeinsamkeit.

Walter was a powerful lord in Burgundy, who, in his earliest youth, had been smitten with the charms of the fair Brunhilda, a beauty far surpassing in loveliness all her rivals; for her tresses, dark as the raven face of night, streaming over her shoulders, set off to the utmost advantage the beaming lustre of her slender form, and the rich dye of a cheek whose tint was deep and brilliant as that of the western heaven:

Music should strike fire from the heart of man, and bring tears form the eyes of woman.

I despise a world which does not feel that music is a higher revelation than all wisdom and philosophy.

was schwer ist, ist auch schön, gut, groß etc, jeder Mensch sieht also ein, daß dieses das fetteste Lob ist, was man geben kann, denn das schwere macht schwizen (sic)" "what is difficult is also beautiful, good, great, etc, therefore every person understands that this is the greatest praise that one can give, because the difficult makes one sweat

Is it not beautiful?

Music is like a dream. One that I cannot hear.

I love a tree more than a man.

Only stilted pedants can conceive the idea that there are absolute norms to tell what is beautiful and what is not. They try to derive from the works of the past a code of rules with which, as they fancy, the writers and artists of the future should comply. But the genius does not cooperate with the pundit.

She'd been in labor for nineteen hours; I completely understood why she wanted to pass the buck. 'You are so beautiful,' her husband crooned, holding up her shoulders. 'You are so full of shit,' Lila snarled, but as a contraction settled over her like a net, she bore down and pushed.

but I used to think, Josef says quietly, that there are some weeds that are just as beautiful as flowers. (pg 134)

Over her shoulder was Josie-and for the first time, Alex could really see a piece of herself in her daughter. It wasn't so much the shape of the face but the shine of it; not the color of the eyes but the dream caught like smoke in them. There was no amount of expensive makeup that would make her look the way her Josie did; that was simply what falling in love did to a person. Could you be jealous of your own child?