Quotes About Beauty

Farfallina, bella e bianca, vola vola, mai si stanca, gira qua, e gira la- poi si resta sopra un fiore, e poi si resta sopra un fiore... Butterfly, beautiful and white, fly and fly, never get tired, turn here and turn there- she rests upon a flower... and she rests upon a flower.

Belle laide, Athénaïs calls me,' I replied with a little shrug. The expression was usually used to describe a woman who was arresting despite the plainness of her looks.

but there was something so significant about being able to make a gorgeous item of clothing from almost raw materials. It gave her a feeling of her own power, to make something practical and beautiful just by using her own skill and creativity. It inspired her.

But her relationship with food was all about being Carmen of Seville. It was her truth, her statement to the world. And she didn't care if she had to use her beauty queen smarts to get people too take a bite- because once they had a taste of her flavors, of the garlic and olive oil and pinches of smoked paprika, pimentón ,they would know. Carmen Vega wasn't just another pretty face. She was an artist.

Kukira yang paling kusukai dari dirinya adalah bahwa dia membuat kesederhanaan jadi indah. Kedengarannya mudah, tapi hal besar pada saat itu. Sekarang juga masih. Berapa kali kau berada di restoran yang seharusnya bagus tapi kau bahkan tidak bisa merasakan makanannya karena terselubung dalam... inovasi?

seas, lakes, rivers, streams, creeks, and puddles.

Three lists! Aphrodite was truly cruel!

It seemed wrong, she thought, that there should be such beauty in the world on a day like this.

If you take away the mystery of God and reduce everything to the commonplace, you take away much of the beauty in their lives.

It was essential that someone, somewhere, even if it was only the fairy folk, should know that the human race had produced more than wars, catastrophes, and ultimately its own slow and painful self-destruction. It had produced things of exquisite and lasting beauty as well.

He praised the mare and tugged at her ear. He flattered the cob as well, liking him suddenly; sorry for him because his plain looks concealed such a generous heart.

Beauty! Sid Morris said, addressing the dirty windows that looked out to the alley where, on certain Thursdays, the smell up from the Chinese restaurant across the street reached a point you could almost taste. Beauty! he said.

Don't you love being alive? asked Miranda. Don't you love weather and the colors at different times of the day, and all the sounds and noises like children screaming in the next lot, and automobile horns and little bands playing in the street and the smell of food cooking? I love to swim, too. said Adam. So do I, said Miranda, we never did swim together.

I remember, in hot floods, the way he slept, still as death, with his face washed flat, stony as a carved tomb and exquisite. His weakness and his ravening bitter needs were terrible, and beautiful, and irresistible as an earthquake. He scalded or smothered anyone he needed, but his needing and the hurt that it caused me were the most life I have ever had. Remember what a poor thing I have always been and forgive me.

It's crazy isn't it? She shook her head. You have to believe it, but you hate it. I don't have to believe it, and I think it's beautiful. She shook her head again. It's crazy.

I have been mocked by beauty, too. But it was the beauty which cost me nothing that in the end turned upon me.

Now it was time for him to move out. She wasn't there, so he must go for both of them. It was up to him to pay back to the world in beauty and caring what Leslie had loaned him in vision and strength.

Corría como si para ella fuera algo natural. Recordó el vuelo de los patos salvajes en otoño. Igual de fluido y uniforme. Le vino a la cabeza la palabra «hermosa» pero la rechazó y apresuró el paso hacia casa.

I just can't get the poetry of the trees, he said.

If we marvel at the artist who has written a great book, we must marvel more at those people whose lives are works of art and who don't even know it, who wouldn't believe it if they were told. However hard work good writing may be, it is easier than good living.

She looked at him as if she were going to argue, then seemed to change her mind. "It's crazy, isn't it?" She shook her head. "You have to believe it, but you hate it. I don't have to believe it, and I think it's beautiful." She shook her head again. "It's crazy.

Jess wouldn't argue that, but he saw her as a beautiful wild creature who had been caught for a moment in that dirty old cage of a schoolhouse, perhaps by mistake.

I think, she began quietly, I think we want... not just bread for our bellies. We want more than only bread. We want food for our hearts, our souls. We want- how to say it? We want, you know- Puccini music.... we want for our beautiful children some beauty. She leaned over and kissed the curl on her finger. We want roses....

That's a fine-looking cat.