Quotes About Beauty

Oare dispare vreodat? complet, în ceea ce este frumos ?i în ceea ce este r?u, în ceea ce este viu ?i în ceea ce este mort, povara zdrobitoare a trecutului?

We shall all die. But we shall not die together. Something will be left behind us like a trail of light to transmit to succeeding generations all that is great in work and in the imagination. And more than crumbling palaces and mutilated statues, what shines forever in men's memories are the efforts of the mind to lift itself above everyday existence by laughter, terror, metaphysical thought, the beauty of the word, and the brilliance of ideas.

Tradi?iile nu câ?tig? nimic când sunt prea bine explicate. Ele nu pot decât s?-?i piard? din rigoare ?i îngustimea înc?p??ânat? care le dau o parte de frumuse?e.

La belleza es pura secreción de la cultura como los cálculos lo son del riñón

It's amazing that God lavishes so much attention to detail in a body that won't last, but He does that everywhere: in that tiny, delicate, finely veined alpine flower that quivers in the mountain chill and then fades and dies, as well as in my body. I am a wonder!

Certain acts dazzle us and light up blurred surfaces, if our eyes are sharp enough to see them in a flash, for the beauty of a living thing can be grasped only fleetingly. To pursue it during its changes leads us inevitably to the moment when it ceases, for it cannot last a lifetime. And to analyze it, that is, to pursue it in time with the sight and the imagination, is to view it in its decline, for following the marvelous moment in which it reveals itself, it diminishes in intensity.

Beauty has no other origin than a wound, unique, different for each person, hidden or visible, that everyone keeps in himself, that he preserves and to which he withdraws when he wants to leave the world for a temporary but profound solitude.

For I do not love the oppressed. I love those whom I love, who are always handsome and sometimes oppressed but stand up and rebel

when at night I walk barefoot in my sandals across fields of snow at the Austrian border, I shall not flinch, but then, I say to myself, this painful moment must concur with the beauty of my life, I refuse to let this moment and all the others be waste matter; using their suffering, I project myself to the mind's heaven.

Novels are not humanitarian reports. Indeed, let us be thankful that there remains sufficient cruelty, without which beauty would not be.

Kim ki bu yaln?zl?k kar??nda büyülenmemiÅŸtir, resmin güzelliÄŸini anlayamaz. Anl?yorum derse, yaland?r.

The most alive of worlds, human beings with the tenderest flesh, are made of marble.

She denied herself the luxury and beauty that kill reverie. Love too. Once upon a time love had placed her on earth and kept her there with the grip of a wrestler who is used to pinning huskies to the mat.

Limited by the world, which I oppose, jagged by it, I shall be all the more handsome and sparkling as the angles which wound me and give me shape are more acute and the jagging more cruel.

I recognize in thieves, traitors and murderers, in the ruthless and the cunning, a deep beauty - a sunken beauty.

Betrayal is beautiful.

beauty is the projection of ugliness and by developing certain monstrosities we obtain the purest ornaments.

Voilà que ça prend aux Ubacs, se murmure-t-elle.

All was iris-blue, earth and sky together, with a cluster of clouds in the west. The young sun made his way, knee-deep in the grass. The wind scattered the dew like a lively colt. It sent up flights of birds which swam for a while among the waves of the sky, as if drunk and dizzy from screaming, and then suddenly dropped, like handfuls of stones.

les feuilles faisaient du bruit comme une robe de faille.

trois images sont peinturées dedans ma tête, telles que, vivantes, et qui se mettent entre le pays et moi, si bien que je les vois quand mon Å"il, pourtant, regarde l'arbre, l'herbe, la pomme ou le dos des collines.

une couche douce tapissée de thym sec

Une femme comme ça, c'était un morceau de la terre, le pareil d'un arbre, d'une colline, d'une rivière, d'une montagne. Ça faisait partie du rond ensemble. Ça durerait autant que les étoiles !

Ah ! c'était beau, je vous jure, cette fille comme un gros fruit, et ce sein aimable et chariteux, et ce tété goulu.