Quotes About Beauty

Every head is the head of an artist, because it can see and hold beauty if it's only once in its life.

There is nothing in the world as enticing as a wood of any kind, because of its mysteries.

What a pity. How the stars and seas and rivers in their fragile lace of fog go on without us morning after morning, year after year. And we disappear.

In person she was very attractive; her figure was rather tall and slender, her step light and firm, and her whole appearance expressive of health and animation. In complexion she was a clear brunette with a rich colour; she had full round cheeks, with mouth and nose small and well formed, bright hazel eyes, and brown hair forming natural curls close round her face. If not so regularly handsome as her sister, yet her countenance had a peculiar charm of its own to the eyes of most beholders.

As often is the case after a powerful, destructive storm, it was an achingly beautiful day. Even so late in the summer, I could still hear the occasional skylark singing, and the fields were speckled with red poppies.

I love you, Althea—you are so beautiful," murmured the young man into my ear. Well, I was willing enough. I looked up at him from under my eyelashes. "I love you too," I confessed. I averted my gaze and added privately, "You are so rich." Unfortunately, I apparently said this aloud, if just barely, and his hearing was sharper than one would expect, given his other attributes.

Every form correctly seen is beautiful.

Moonlight streamed in, sending loving beams over his face. He closed his eyes and basked in it, and I could tell it was calling to him, even though the moon was not full. She didn't speak to me, but Samuel had once described her song to me in the words of a poet. The expression of bliss on his face while he listened to her music made him beautiful.

Now, I'm not very vain. If I'd ever been, making my living covered in various grease and dirt mixtures would have cured me quickly. Still, I wasn't up to facing two sexy men when I had one eye swollen mostly shut and half of my face black and blue.

When a man is on the verge of passing out from pain, it seemed wrong to notice how beautiful he was.

The snarl didn't make Adam's too-handsome features less handsome, but it would probably have scared anyone else. Me? I think I have some kind of subliminal death wish because Adam's anger makes me go weak at the knees, and not in a terrified sort of way.

I think it's the eyes. No one expects brilliance out of a man with eyelashes like that.

Wulfe had been as likely to hoard dried flowers as exquisite jewelry.

She said, once, shortly before she died, that roses smelled like happiness. Whenever she smelled a rose, she thought of the day we met.

But I've learned that there are always terrible things, and sometimes it is very important to grasp what joy and beauty you can, whenever you can.

Yes," Elizaveta said venomously. "We are all beautiful here. Can we get going? Or do I need to get the makeup mirror out of my purse so you two can admire yourselves a little longer?

Remember the story of Beauty and the Beast?" remarked Asil gently. "Go ahead. Take that little bloom. See what happens." "'Beauty and the Beast' is a French fairy tale and you are a mere Spaniard

A second floor window opened, and Kyle stuck his head and shoulders out so he could look down at us. "If you two are finished playing Cowboy and Indian out there, some of us would like to get their beauty sleep." I looked at Warren. "You heard 'um Kemo Sabe. Me go to my little wigwam and get 'um shut-eye." "How come you always get to play the Indian?" whined Warren, deadpan. "Cause she's the Indian, white boy," said Kyle.

after the rain bomb craters filled with stars - John Brandi

Some people are cool with the fact that their bodies bear witness to this great thing they produced, their children, and I understand that. But on a personal level, it makes me feel better that my breasts are not down to my knees when I'm undressed in front of my husband.

stars pricked the night sky.

Miss Skylark once said it's heroic to make something beautiful out of a blank page," I say. "With art or words.

You came during an early snowstorm

Patricia MacLachlan