Quotes About Beauty

Her eyes were of the bluest black Like night sky with the clouds blown back

I am one of you. You are not alone. You are all beautiful to me.

So when I meet a woman, I should simply say, 'You are beautiful?'" Tempi shook his head. "No. You would say simply 'beautiful,' and let the woman decide the rest of what you mean.

Most things fail with age. Our hands and backs stiffen. Our eyes dim. Skin roughens and our beauty fades. The only exception is the voice. Properly cared for, a voice does nothing but grow sweeter with age and constant use.

La dulce sonrisa de una mujer joven: no hay nada mejor en el mundo. Es más valiosa que la sal. Sin ella, algo enferma y muere dentro de nosotros.

Most things fail with age. Our hands and backs stiffen. Our eyes dim. Skin roughens and our beauty fades. The only exception is the voice. Properly cared for, a voice does nothing but grow sweeter with age and constant use. His was like a sweet honey wine.

He held up his own. "To Dyanae," he said. "Most lovely." "To Denna, full of delight." "Young and unbending." "Bright and fair." "Ever sought, ever alone." "So wise and so foolish," I said. "So merry and so sad." "Gods of my fathers," Deoch said reverently. "Keep her always so: unchanging, past my understanding, and safe from harm." We both drank and set down our glasses.

She wasn't dressed like a student. She wore an elaborate burgundy dress with long skirts, a tight waist, and matching burgundy gloves that rose all the way to her elbows. Moving deliberately, she managed to get down off the stool without tangling her feet and made her way over to stand nest to my table. Her blond hair was artfully curled, and her lips were a deeply painted red. I couldn't help wondering what she was doing in a place like Anker's.

If you do as I tell you, you'll have nothing but smooth silver scars to show the ladies how brave you are.

Each woman is like an instrument, waiting to be learned, loved, and finely played, to have at last her own true music made. Some

Rebosante de júbilo, Auri se puso a bailar. Sus pies descalzos destacaban, blancos, contra la oscuridad suave como el musgo de la alfombra.

Watching her stroll thourgh the crowd was like watching the wind move across the surface of a pond. Except instead of casting ripples on the water, the heads of young men turned to watch her as she passed.

Watching her stroll through the crowd was like watching the wind move across the surface of a pond. Except instead of casting ripples on the water, the heads of young men turned to watch her as she passed.

Cada mujer es como un instrumento, y espera que la entiendan, la amen y la toquen con delicadeza, para por fin hacer sonar su verdadera música. Habrá

La dulce sonrisa de una mujer joven: no hay nada mejor en el mundo. Es más valiosa que la sal. Sin ella, algo enferma y muere dentro de nosotros. Estoy seguro. Una cosa tan simple. Qué raro. Qué maravilloso y qué raro. Penthe

It had been treated unkindly in the past, but that didn't make it less lovely underneath.

It was like cool water on my dry, tired heart. The sweet smile of a young woman. There is nothing better in the world. It is worth more than salt. Something in us sickens and dies without it. I am sure of this. Such a simple thing. How strange. How wonderful and strange.

Con la edad se deterioran muchas cosas. Las manos y la espalda cobran rigidez. La visión empeora. La piel se vuelve áspera y la belleza se apaga. La única excepción es la voz. Si se cuida bien, con la edad y con el uso continuado la voz no hace otra cosa que ganar suavidad. La de aquel hombre era dulce como un vino de miel. Al terminar su canción, recibió un aplauso caluroso, y al cabo de un momento volvieron a encenderse las luces y se reanudaron las conversaciones.

The sweet smile of a young woman. There is nothing better in the world. It is worth more than salt. Something in us sickens and dies without it. I am sure of this.

Tak reflects the subtle turning of the world. It is a mirror we hold to life. No one wins a dance, boy. The point of dancing is the motion that a body makes. A well-played game of tak reveals the moving of a mind. There is a beauty to these things for those with eyes to see it...' I looked down at the board. 'The point isn't to win?' I asked. 'The point,' Bredon said grandly, 'is to play a beautiful game.

If she was beautiful at rest she was doubly so awake. Asleep she was a painting of a fire. Awake she was the fire itself.

She's pretty and charming. Men crowd round her like stags in rut." He made a flippant gesture. "Women are bound to resent it.

Sangre, helechos y hueso, qué lástima que las criaturas como tú no tengáis la inteligencia para apreciarme.

A great spider of lightning crawled across the sky,