Quotes About Beauty

It was strange to see her among mortals; she made all of them, guards and Peleus alike, look bleached and wan, though it was her skin that was pale as bone.

A su muerte, Aquiles enterraría con él todas las cosas veloces, hermosas y luminosas.

For three weeks the earth would paint herself in every color, burst every bud, unfurl each rioting petal. Then, the wild flush of her excitement spent, she would settle down to the steady work of summer. It was my favorite time of year.

El destello rosado de su labio, el verde febril de sus ojos, su rostro desprovisto de arrugas… Nada en él decaía ni se marchitaba. Él era áureo, deslumbrante, era la primavera. La envidiosa muerte se bebería su sangre y sería joven de nuevo.

There is no one like you," I said, at last. He regarded me a moment, in silence. "So?" Something in the way he spoke it drained the last of my anger from me. I had minded, once. But who was I to begrudge such a thing? As if he heard me, he smiled, and his face was like the sun.

The only thing that was clear was Glaucos' face, his handsome brow and earnest eyes, wet a little from his griefs but smiling always when he looked at me.

He saw me watching and rubbed self-consciously at his calloused hands. "I know I am ugly to you." No, I thought. My grandfather's halls are filled with shining nymphs and muscled river-gods, but I would rather gaze on you than any of them.

i did not mind anymore that i lost when we raced and i lost when we swam out to the rocks and i lost we tossed spears or skipped stones. for who can be ashamed to lose to such beauty? it was enough to watch him win, to see the soles of his feet flashing as they kciked up the sand, or the rise and fall of his shoulders as he pulled throuhg the salt. it was enough.

I could imagine my half-sisters with their long golden hair and painted eyes, bent on pretty knees.

De pronto, todos recordamos haber oído hablar de su piel dorada y sus ojos negros y centelleantes como la obsidiana que trocábamos por nuestras olivas. Y en ese momento, ella valió más que todos los presentes apilados en el centro, y aún más, ella valía más que nuestras vidas

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 can be ashamed to lose to such beauty? it was enough to watch him win, to see the soles of his feet flashing as they kciked up the sand, or the rise and fall of his shoulders as he pulled throuhg the salt. it was enough.

Iphigenia. A tripping name, the sound of goat hooves on rock, quick, lively, lovely.

his nose an aristocratic arrow.

Some people are like constellations who only touch the earth for a season.

But in a solitary life, as stars once a year brush the earth. Such a constellation was he to me.

Quise despertarle para verle abrir los párpados, un espectáculo del que nunca me cansaba a pesar de haberlo visto miles de veces.

Byli?my jak bogowie u zarania ?wiata, a nasza rado?? by?a tak promienna, ?e nie widzieli?my niczego poza sob? nawzajem.

Dormido bajo aquella luminosidad tan tenue parecía diferente: hermoso pero frío. Me descubrí deseando que despertara para de ese modo poder contemplar cómo revivía.

She was taller than I was, taller than any woman I had ever seen. Her black hair was loose down her back, and her skin shone luminous and impossibly pale, as if it drank light from the moon.

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 can be ashamed to lose to such beauty?

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 can be ashamed to lose to such beauty? It was enough to watch him win, to see the soles of his feet flashing as they kicked up sand, or the rise and fall of his shoulders as he pulled through the salt. It was enough.

She was taller than I was, taller than any woman I had ever seen. Her black hair was loose down her back, and her skin shone luminous and impossibly pale, as if it drank light from the moon. She was so close I could smell her, seawater laced with dark brown honey. I did not breathe. I did not dare.

For who can be be ashamed to lose to such beauty? It was enough to watch him win.

I see his face as if through water, as a fish sees the sun.