Quotes About Beauty

Contemplé su noble rostro; noble no por su belleza, sino porque, como el buen metal, había sido templado y golpeado hasta volverse fuerte.

Algunas personas son como constelaciones que sólo iluminan la tierra durante una estación.

I saw then how I had changed. I did not mind anymore that I lost when we raced and I lost when we swam out to the rocks and I lost when we tossed spears or skipped stones. For who could be ashamed to lose to such beauty? It was enough to watch him win.

The horse's muscular legs ended in flesh, the equally muscular torso of a man. I stared—at that impossible suture of horse and human, where smooth skin became a gleaming brown coat.

would say, some people are like constellations that only touch the earth for a season.

When he died, all things swift and beautiful and bright would be buried with him. I opened my mouth, but it was too late. "I will go," he said. "I will go to Troy." The

Una barca ben costruita, un albero ben cresciuto, una storia ben raccontata, tutti questi per lui erano piaceri.

Si dice che le donne siano creature delicate, come fiori, come uova, come qulsiasi cosa che possa essere schiacciata in un momento di negligenza. Se mai ci avevo creduto, non era più così.

He would be hated now. No one would remember his glory, or his honesty, or his beauty; all his gold would be turned to ashes and ruin.

Aquiles pulsó otra vez las cuerdas y de ellas brotó otra vez la música. En esta ocasión también cantó, pergeñando un acompañamiento con su clara y rica voz de tiple. Echó la cabeza ligeramente hacia atrás, dejando expuesta la fina piel del cuello, suave como la de un cervato. Una leve sonrisa le aupaba la comisura izquierda de la boca. Me incliné hacia delante casi sin pretenderlo.

Later, we lay on the riverbank, learning the lines of each other's bodies anew. This, and this and this. We were like gods at the dawning of the world, and our joy was so bright we could see nothing else but the other.

Transcurrieron las horas. A la luz de la luna, apenas podía distinguir el semblante perfecto de Aquiles al otro lado de la habitación. Tenía los labios entreabiertos y un brazo puesto con descuido encima de la cabeza. Dormido bajo aquella luminosidad tan tenue parecía diferente: hermoso pero frío. Me descubrí deseando que despertara para de ese modo poder contemplar cómo revivía.

Quando sorrideva, la pelle attorno ai suoi occhi si increspava come carta tenuta vicino a una fiamma.

Do you always make beautiful things for those you are angry with?" "No," he said. "Only you.

Quando sorrideva, la pelle attorno ai suoi occhi si increspava come carta tenuta vicino a una fiamma. Achille stesso era come una fiamma. Splendeva, attirava lo sguardo di tutti. C'era qualcosa d'incantevole in lui persino quando era appena sveglio, con i capelli scarmigliati e il volto ancora impastato di sonno.

Girls and boys would sigh over him, but all I saw were the thousand soft places of his body where his life might be ended.

Il bagliore roseo delle sue labbra, il verde febbricitante dei suoi occhi. Il suo viso non aveva nemmeno una ruga, nemmeno un'increspatura, un accenno di grigio: era fresco e prefetto. Lui era primavera, dorato e splendente. La Morte invidiosa avrebbe bevuto il suo sangue, e sarebbe diventata giovane di nuovo.

She turned before him slowly, showing the lushness of her figure as if she were roasting on a spit.

He smiled. "Now I know how to make you follow me everywhere." The sun sank below Pelion's ridges, and we were happy.

There was a quality to her that is hard to describe, a fervency, a heat that went to your head. I had expected her to be beautiful, for she walked like a queen of the gods, but it was an odd beauty, not like my mother's or sister's. Each of her features alone was nothing, her nose too sharp, her chin over-strong. Yet together they made a whole like the heart of a flame. You could not look away.

Parecíamos dioses en el alba del mundo y nuestro gozo era tan deslumbrante que no éramos capaces de ver otra cosa que el uno al otro.

Her limbs lift into the grey waves like the steady beats of wings.

Her skin, we suddenly remembered, was rumored to be gilded, her eyes dark and shining as the slick obsidian that we traded our olives for.

Their hands meet, and light spills in a flood like a hundred golden urns pouring out of the sun.