Quotes About Beauty

Glitterdust across a broad expanse of blue. Before me, the water unfurled like dark swaths of shadowed silk, colors muted, reflections cast by the lamps hanging from the prows of the gondolas rippling, and my heart swelled at the beauty and the romance of it.

Now here was beautiful, vibrant Goldie, saying that we would be the best of friends, and I was foolish enough to think it was what I wanted above all else.

How I trusted her from the start. How wholly I gave myself over to my cousin. The lure of beautiful things, of a friend . . . I was vulnerable without knowing it, having never had either.

And yet . . . after all my longing for this life, it felt strangely empty, beautiful but hollow. I did not want to admit that I found it boring, or that I was floundering in its shallows. How little they thought about anything but their own amusement. Their lives were so easy, so full of beauty and money. How much they could do with it, and how disappointing to find them so vacant.

How little they thought about anything but their own amusement. Their lives were so easy, so full of beauty and money. How much they could do with it, and how disappointing to find them so vacant.

Let me show you what I know of it," he murmured. "Your mouth can be considered a hundred ways. Rico would look at it and he would see the light and shade; Byron Sawyer would see the color; yet another artist might see the line. A hundred truths, and not one is wrong. There are no original ideas, darling, only original visions. Each of us would draw your lips a different way, yet none of us could capture the complete essence of them.

The two of you made something so beautiful it changed the way I saw it. I'll never think of those places the same way again.

craving that made the world look hard-edged and brutally lovely. "Would you have

The sunsets here in Venice are more intensely colored than they have ever been. Do you know why?" "Why?" His voice was very quiet. "Because of the smoke from the mirror and glass factories. There were only craftsmen before, not such manufacture. There was never such smoke. It's strange, don't you think, that something that so befouls the air can be so beautiful?" "Beauty from ugliness," he mused wistfully. "No. I don't think it strange at all.

The woman was the kind of woman that the British find breathtakingly sexy and I could never figure out why. She had short, dark hair that was a little bit spiky on top and a curvy little body. She was cute, I supposed, but was no goddess. She wasn't worthy of him. And yet Sean looked like he wanted to eat her up.

People who don't like me talk about it as though I'm trash because I have tattoos. I find that insane because it's 2008, not the 1950s. Tattoos aren't limited to sailors. It's a form of art I find beautiful. I love it.

I have seen clouds part for the sun. I have seen rainbows. I have seen flowers in the morning, covered in dew, and I have seen sunsets so brilliant with fire they made me want to weep. And I have seen Dan smile at me, his lips still wet from my kiss, and if I had to choose which sight moved me the most I would say it was that one.

I could say his body was perfect and every part of it beautiful, because it was. Not because he had no flaws, but because I wanted him so desperately I couldn't see any.

He put my fingertips to his mouth and kissed them. Licked the trace of blood away. Made them clean. Then I knew the truth I had been denying. He made me clean. Dan made me clean and shining and bright. He made me beautiful, and I did not want to lose him.

You know what they say. Best revenge is looking good, right?

You look gorgeous, Elle, and you don't act like a gorgeous woman does." "I don't? How do I act?" "You act like an angel. But you fuck like a deomon. Don't you.

Still staring at the woman in the mirror, I hung up the phone. She looked as if she was going to cry. I felt bad for her, that woman with the dark hair, the one who only ever wore black and white. The one who might have been pretty if she'd only take care of herself, if only she weren't smarter, if only she didn't earn more money. I felt sorry for her but envied her, too, because she, at least, could cry and I could not.

He was the loveliest sight she'd ever seen.

All the best art comes from the broken places,

People think it is. Symmetry is pretty, sure. But real beauty, real true beauty, comes from flaws.

It couldn't last forever. It wasn't meant to. So at last I rolled onto my side to face him. I let myself drink in the lines and curves of his face.

gente que piensa que su valor está relacionado con su masa corporal. Hombres obsesionados con el gimnasio, y mujeres que piensan que morirse de hambre es sexy.

Dan smiled at me with lips still moist from mine. I have seen clouds part for the sun. I have seen rainbows. I have seen flowers in the morning, covered in dew, and I have seen sunsets so brilliant with fire they have made me want to weep. And I have seen Dan smile at me, his lips still wet from my kiss, and if I had to choose which sight moved me the most I would say it was that one.

Could she have known that it was her own image that, Waldo wrote, "rose before me at times into heroical & godlike regions, and I could remember no superior women"? Indeed, to Waldo, who had once unkindly disrupted her Conversations on classical myth, Margaret was best compared to "Ceres, Minerva, Proserpine, and the august ideal forms of the Foreworld." He had not told her this, but perhaps somehow she knew.