Quotes About Beauty

Those who love so much should focus their thoughts on beauty, and then learn to close the other eye when seeing the ugliness of the subject presented.

Truly God is the best of creators. He designed my physical face with so much care and a little touch of makeup in the form of a beard and mustaches.

We must first admire the artist, the one who has completed all that nature has left aside, before being carried away by the beauty of art.

like stars and starstuff born to live, to blaze, and die.

her appearance is to me like fresh water being poured into a glass. I am the container that has not known it needed to be filled. She is the water bringing solace, that does not know it needs to be contained.

The human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for.

There they stand, the innumerable stars, shining in order like a living hymn, written in light.

His mane is made of short rainbows.

A hawk sailed past the sun, its shadow slithering in the grass.

I have walked in a mountain meadow bright with Indian paintbrush, lupine, and wild buckwheat, and I have seen high in the branches of a lodgepole pine the male pine grosbeak, round and rose-colored, its dark, striped wings nearly invisible in the soft, mottled light. And the uppermost branches of the tree seemed very slowly to ride across the blue sky.

Song of Longing Will you come to me now Thee white moon shines on the cornfields Evening falls among the melon rows The orange sun sets on the mountains The river runs sparkling on blue stones And the long reeds bend and sway I will welcome you with sweetgrass and sage Will you come to me now I sing in my heart of your coming I sing in my soul of your coming

I could tell of the splintered sun. I could Articulate the night sky, had I words.

La belleza, como la justicia, se nos escurre entre los dedos. Fotografiamos una puesta de sol, pero todo lo que conseguimos es el recuerdo del momento, no el instante en sí.

La belleza apunta hacia afuera del mundo presente, a uno totalmente diferente.

Honramos y celebramos nuestra complejidad y nuestra simplicidad haciendo continuamente cinco cosas. Contamos historias. Realizamos rituales. Creamos belleza. Trabajamos en comunidades. Meditamos en creencias.

One reads poetry because he is a member of the human race, and the human race is filled with passion! Medicine, law, banking- these are necessary to sustain life. But poetry, romance, love, beauty? These are what we stay alive for!

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may, Old time is still a flying: And this same flower that smiles today, Tomorrow will be dying.

La poesía puede estar oculta en los objetos o las acciones más cotidianas, pero nunca, nunca deber ser común.

Put it this way: if your idea of God, if your idea of the salvation offered in Christ, is vague or remote, your idea of worship will be fuzzy and ill-formed. The closer you get to the truth, the clearer becomes the beauty, and the more you will find worship welling up within you. That's why theology and worship belong together. The one isn't just a headtrip; the other isn't just emotion.

But the failure of Christianity is a modern myth, and we shouldn't be ashamed of telling the proper story of church history, which of course has plenty of muddle and wickedness, but also far more than we normally imagine of love and creativity and beauty and justice and healing and education and hope. To

Beauty matters, dare I say, almost as much as spirituality and justice.

The meaning of the story is found in every detail, as well as in the broad narrative. The pain and tears of all the years were met together on Calvary. The sorrow of heaven joined with the anguish of earth; the forgiving love stored up in God's future was poured out into the present; the voices that echo in a million human hearts, crying for justice, longing for spirituality, eager for relationship, yearning for beauty, drew themselves together into a final scream of desolation.

Western cathedrals and abbeys…through soaring Gothic architecture, [give] us at floor level a sense of belonging within (but unable at the moment to inhabit more than a little of) great spaces of light and beauty, into which, significantly, only our music can penetrate.

Creation is good, but it is not God. It is beautiful, but its beauty is at present transient. It is in pain, but that pain is taken into the very heart of God and becomes part of the pain of new birth.