Quotes About Beauty

I have preferred to teach my students not English literature but my love for certain authors, or, even better, certain pages, or even better than that, certain lines. One falls in love with a line, then with a page, then with an author. Well, why not? It is a beautiful process.

El arte sucede cada vez que leemos un poema.

how strange it is. For perfect things in poetry do not seem strange; they seem inevitable. And so we hardly thank the writer for his pains.

Art always opts for the individual, the concrete; art is not Platonic.

The magnetized mountain and the genie who swore to kill his benefactor are—who would deny it?—marvelous, but not so much more than the morning itself and the mere fact of being.

Now that I possess the secret, I could tell it in a hundred different and even contradictory ways. I don't know how to tell you this, but the secret is beautiful, and science, our science, seems mere frivolity to me now... And anyway, the secret is not as important as the paths that led me to it. Each person has to walk those paths himself.

Gradual blindness is not a tragedy. It's like a slow summer dusk.

I offer you the memory of a yellow rose seen at sunset, years before you were born.

Todo el mundo sabe dónde encontrar la poesía. Y, cuando aparece, uno siente el roce de la poesía, ese especial estremecimiento.

Tanr?sal bir çiçeÄŸin ya da düÅŸüncedeki bir çiçeÄŸin, geleceÄŸin çiçeÄŸi olmas?, güncel zamanda atomlar? henüz birleÅŸmemiÅŸ ve farkl? yerlerde bulunan çeliÅŸkili bir çiçek olmas? daha da inan?lmaz.

A circle drawn on a blackboard, a right triangle, a rhombus--all these are forms we can fully intuit; Ireneo could do the same with the stormy mane of a young colt, a small herd of cattle on a mountainside, a flickering fire and its uncountable ashes, and the many faces of a dead man at a wake. I have no idea how many stars he saw in the sky.

And life is, I am sure, made of poetry. Poetry is not alien--poetry is, as we will see, lurking round the corner. It may spring on us at any moment.

Pokušao bih uvijek imati lijepe trenutke, Jer se jedino od toga sastoji život, od trenutaka. Kada bih se mogao vratiti unatrag, borio bih se da nikada ne izgubim sada

Casi no soy, pero mis versos ritman la vida y su esplendor. Yo fui Walt Whitman.

Hasta la hora del ocaso amarillo Cuántas veces habré mirado Al poderoso tigre de Bengala

Quieres ver lo que no vieron ojos humanos? Mira la luna. ¿Quieres oír lo que los oídos no oyeron? Oye el grito del pájaro. ¿Quieres tocar lo que no tocaron las manos? Toca la tierra.

La belleza es ese misterio hermoso que no descifran ni la psicología ni la retórica.

Football is aesthetically ugly. Eleven players against eleven others running after a ball are not especially beautiful.

Miró los árboles y el cielo subdivididos en rombos turbiamente amarillos, verdes y rojos.

Para un verdadero poeta, cada momento de la vida, cada hecho, debería ser poético, ya que profundamente lo es.

The river was blue then like extension of the sky.

The really human thing is to see the stars above the roof, to preserve our apprehension of the universality of things in the midst of the habits of daily life, and to see the world above and beyond our immediate environment.

Still, winter is an abstract season: it is low on colors, even in Italy, and big on the imperatives of cold and brief daylight. These things train your eye on the outside with an intensity greater than that of the electric bulb availing you of your own features in the evening. If this season doesn't necessarily quell your nerves, it still subordinates them to your instincts; beauty at low temperatures is beauty.

JeÅ›li zaÅ'o?y?, ?e piÄ™kno jest takÄ… dystrybucjÄ… Å›wiatÅ'a, która najbardziej odpowiada naszej siatkówce, Å'za jest formÄ… przyznania siÄ™ do niemo?noÅ›ci zatrzymania przez siatkówkÄ™ – a tak?e przez sama Å'zÄ™ – tego piÄ™kna na staÅ'e. MiÅ'o??, ?eby to tak podsumowa?, ma prÄ™dko?? Å›wiatÅ'a; rozstanie – prÄ™dko?? d?wiÄ™ku