Quotes About Beauty

I'm getting soft! I need the sea! I miss its greens and blues and grays. Its singing whales. Its silent rays. Its shipwrecks resting on the sand. Undiscovered and unmanned Removed now from all history I miss the sea! Its mystery. Its kelp. Its creatures. Crabs and corals Devoid of complicating morals. Its secrets. All its saline riches. I'm going home.

What, after all, is mathematics but the poetry of the mind, and what is poetry but the mathematics of the heart?

Life can be beautiful when you understand the inconvenience of being born.

la contemplation de la beauté était un pansement sur la laideur. Il en avait toujours été ainsi. Quand il se sentait mal, il allait se promener dans un musée. Le merveilleux demeurait la meilleure arme contre la fragilité.

Ils s'échappèrent comme deux voleurs de beauté.

Certains physique ressemble à une question sans réponse. On sait juste qu'on ne peut pas détourner le regard. Quand il est là, on ne voit que lui.

Pour trouver le sommeil, elle parcours ses souvenirs. C'est le seul endroit où demeure la tendresse. [...] Le yeux fermés, elle voyage à travers la beauté.

elle était si belle...de cette beauté à mettre des points de suspension partout.

Las tristezas se olvidan con Botticelli, los miedos se atenúan con Rembrandt y las penas se reducen con Chagall.

Ils étaient beaux à cette époque, remplis d'une certitude amoureuse qui respirait l'éternité.

the fact that he'd never before seen her in the evening. He was just short of being astounded that she could exist at this hour. He must have been the type who thought that beauty gets put in a box at night. But it couldn't be true, no, because there she was, facing him.

Comprendía el poder cicatrizador de la belleza. Frente a un cuadro no somos juzgados, el intercambio es puro, la obra parece entender nuestro dolor y nos consuela a través del silencio, permanece en una eternidad fija y tranquilizadora, su único objetivo es colmarnos mediante las ondas de lo bello. Las tristezas se olvidan con Botticelli, los miedos se atenúan con Rembrandt y las penas se reducen con Chagall.

Pouvait-on autant aimer une femme ? Une femme dans toute la force de sa fragilité

But God wants something better than fig leaves for us. God wants us to be aware of our helplessness so we can know that we need Divine help. God's deepest desire for us is to replace our fig leaves with garments of durability and beauty (Genesis 3:21).

Love is a mystery. We embrace it where we can. Mostly we do not choose whom we love. It just happens. A voice speaks to us, in ways the ears cannot hear. We recognize a beauty the eye does not see. We experience a change in our hearts that no voice can describe.

A work of art is an act of love. Critics are crab lice.

Because God lives forever and I will not, I can experience the several different times of my life knowing that they are part of a bigger picture that I cannot see but which is visible to a good and wise God who sees the whole as beautiful.

Under the blanket the outline of her body was slender and displayed a certain innocence, a precious quality far more significant than the elegance of her form. She seemed to radiate kindness and essential goodness, and Darby, trying to measure the value of her, told himself it was immeasurable.

There's nothing fragile about this one. That ain't a fragile nose or mouth or chin, and yet it's female, more female than them fragile-pretty types who look more like ornaments than girls.

The double hundred Fowler hit in the Madras Test was an absolute beauty.

Dionysius warns us that we cannot begin to understand how symbols work until we rid ourselves of the notion that divine things are likely to be beautiful.

And come, blue deeps! magnificently strown With coloured clouds — large, light, and fugitive...

Swearing is like any other music...If it is not done well, if it is not done with a fine and discriminating art, and vitalized with gracious and heartborn feeling, it lacks beauty, it lacks charm, it lacks expression, it lacks nobleness, it lacks majesty...

You, who promised, when you asked for my hand, to look at me always with kind eyes. The eyes of a loving witness, you said. And no one has ever said anything lovelier to me.