Quotes About Beauty

The loveliest of faces are to be seen by moonlight, when one sees half with the eye and half with the fancy.

Wow! When you become a vampire, men become broad shouldered and muscle-bound and women become tall and thin! You ever think of selling this on QVC?

To be a Christian is to live positively and not destructively, to make ugly things beautiful, and to make chaos meaningful.

I don't ask for the meaning of the song of a bird or the rising of the sun on a misty morning. There they are, and they are beautiful.

I don't ask for the meaning of the song of a bird or the rising of the sun on a misty morning. There they are, and they are beautiful.

The painting was food. He wanted to caress it, hold it in his hands, lick its glazed surface, plunge into it, dive into the Florentine light. Years vanished, decades were erased, and he was again the boy who had come here to the feast of art.

The stream of the mountains pleases me more than the sea.

the survivor learns to "follows his own bliss". He is freer to pursue activities and interests that naturally appeal to him. He evolves into his own sense of style. He may even feel emboldened to coif and dress himself without adherence to the standards of fashion. He may extend this freedom into his home décor. In this vein, I have seen many survivors discover their own aesthetic, as well as an increased appreciation of beauty in general.

there's something else, something quite beautiful.

We can turn our earth into a barren, lifeless minor star spinning in space, waterless, with little or no atmosphere, with not even cockroaches left on it. To face this possibility and still behave with decency; to still create beautiful things as though they will last forever; to still make music and poetry and paint pictures; to still consciously cultivate the gentler, tender side of ourselves is to aspire to a grace which makes us more than the animals we surely are.

You're born cute. Babies are cute. Not hard to guess why – it's so everyone will forgive them for being such a pain. You grow a little older, and people say, what beautiful hair, or get a load of those baby blues,' or something nice that keeps you thinking you're still on the cuteness track. Then you hit twelve or thirteen and boom, they tell you everything needs fixing.

I never dreamed of being Shakespeare or Goethe, and I never expected to hold the great mirror of truth up before the world; I dreamed only of being a little pocket mirror, the sort that a woman can carry in her purse; one that reflects small blemishes, and some great beauties, when held close enough to the heart.

Art is art and life is life, but to live life artistically; that is the art of life

if you don't desire anything, the world is without appeal, it loses its beauty. You lack for everything, yet nothing now triggers the need to devour, to incorporate, to make the beautiful object one's own. If the self 's relation to the external world no longer is subtended by desire, it loses all meaning. Raphaël's life is a kind of vegetation, a life without movement or meaning.

A me sembra perfetto. Sono proprio contento che mi stia calando la vista, mi sembra sempre tutto perfetto. È la dimostrazione evidente che c'è un Dio». «Cosa?». «Il fatto che ci si appanni la vista man mano che invecchiamo. Altrimenti sarebbe insopportabile, soprattutto per chi è stato bello da giovane».

The universe can be incredible! Just try to take this moment in. This is really something!

It's beautiful to transcend generations and to just be inside an artistic work, together, enjoying what only a great artistic work can provide.

Your reading of these words is very beautiful and, somehow, very sad, because we both know it must end.

and former for the scent of the flowers.

He never did understand why people admired or even collected art. The greatest human artist could never hope to match what nature did with a single flower.

People have the strength to overcome their bodies. Their beauty is in their minds.

There's one good thing about snow, it makes your lawn look as nice as your neighbor's. - Clyde Moore

Beauty walks this world. It ages everything. I am far and I am an animal and I am just another I-am poem, a we-see poem, a they-love poem. The green. All the different windows. There is so much stone here. And grass. So beautiful each translucent electric blade. And the noise. Cheers folding into traffic. These things. Things that have been already said many times: leaf, zipper, sparrow, lintel, scarf, window shade.

A constant flickering confetti of butterflies showered the town of Darwin. Designer insects, I think of them now: there was something enormously wasteful, extravagant even, about the profusion of patterns and shapes and brilliant colours.