Quotes About Beauty

Don't believe in God. Love the world just the way it is.

He took my hand, made me stand on the branch and asked, "What can you see from here?" "Nothing" I said, "Know what I can see? From this distance everything is so bloody perfect".

I would pick them when they bloomed. And when she called me home for supper, I'd place them in her hair and the contrast would take my breath away.

And through all the misery, she said that some of us in this lifetime experience a moment of beauty beyond reckoning. I asked her what that was, and she said, "If you're one of the lucky ones, you'll know it when you see it. You'll understand why the gods have made you suffer. Because that moment's reward will make your knees weak and everything you've suffered in life will pale in comparison.

I live on the Jellicoe Road. Where trees make canopies over-head and where you can sit at the top of them and see forever.

I walk down the steps of the verandah towards her and with shaking hands she holds my face between them, sobbing, "Look at my beautiful girl.

My father took one hundred and thirty-two minutes to die. I counted. It happened on the Jellicoe Road. The prettiest road I'd ever seen, where the trees made breezy canopies like a tunnel to Shangri-la.

What is she like? Evanjalin of the Monts?' he asked. Finnikin thought for a moment. 'Strong. In here,' he said, thumping his chest twice. 'Humbling. Ruthless. Cunning. She can love people with a fierceness that I have not seen before.' He smiled when he realized he was talking too much. 'And she looks like a Mont woman, so of course she's very beautiful.

She was the most beautiful woman in the world. If she was alive I'd probably be a better person.

It's like two cultures had a massive fight over his face and neither won.

And do you want to hear something that was breaking my heart, day after day? I forgot the faces of my granddaughters in all that hatred. Hatred smothers all beauty. Beloved Isaboe has little resemblance to her older sisters, but your Phaedra — she made me remember those precious, precious girls, and I wasn't angry anymore. I just missed them, and it's the beauty in here," she said, pointing to her chest, "that made me remember them. Her beauty.

Not about the Japanese, but about moments of perfection. commit it to memory and make good use of it.

The silence accentuates the beauty of him. The beauty of this first boy of theirs.

And then the Charynite last borns were lifting Quintana on their shoulders and the Lumaterans had Froi on theirs, and she was laughing and he thought he'd never seen her look so beautiful. And over everyone's heads, Froi could see Gargarin and Arjuro staring up at her with their bittersweet smiles, and Froi imagined two boys with the same face all those years ago in a filthy cave beneath the swamps of Abroi, praying for a better life.

Suddenly the strangeness of Quintana of Charyn's face made sense. Because it was a face meant for laughing, but it had never been given a chance. It robbed Phaedra of her breath.

We could look at the side of wonder.

I only know one word. It means friend. I said it in her ear 'Sora. Sora. Sora.'" "And who taught you this Charynite word for friend?" "Phaedra of Alonso did. She said it was the prettiest word in Charyn." And Lucien ached to hear those words.

He is the most beautiful creature I have ever seen and it's not about his face, but the life force I can see in him. It's the smile and the pure promise of everything he has to offer. Like he's saying, 'Here I am world, are you ready for so much passion and beauty and goodness and love and every other word that should be in the dictionary under the word life?

Hatred smothers all beauty.

Vivo en el camino de Jellicoe, donde los árboles forman toldos de agradable brisa y puedes trepar y subir a el.

Ella le estaba enviando estrellas. Era difícil de escuchar. Él todavía se sentía como si estuviese robando algo. Hay momentos en los que no puedes creer que algo maravilloso está sucediendo. Ella le estaba enviando estrellas. Era difícil de escuchar. Él todavía se sentía como si estuviese robando algo.

Do you think I look like Sophia Loren?' I ask him as we get into the car. 'I used to tell your mother she looked like Sophia Loren.' He looks at me, frowning, and then it registers. 'Oh God, some guy's using that line on you, isn't he?' 'Not just "some guy",' I tell him. 'The guy.

Self-expression has to come out pure. It has to have an environment waiting for it. It has to have a garden it can plant itself in.

My theory was that if you had breasts, boys wanted to have sex with you, which wasn't exactly a big compliment, since they wanted to have sex any way. Whereas if you had a beautiful face, like Julia, boys fell in love with you, which seemed to happen against their will. Then the sex that you had would be about love.