Quotes About Beauty

I said it on Halloween and meant every word: you are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen walking this earth. And you don't even know it. You have no clue how beautiful you are or how brightly you shine.

He's hot—like, the kind of hot that makes you stop walking on the street and get hit by traffic.

Gold and orange hues suggested it was nearing sunset. "Beautiful," I murmured. "I agree," Adrian said, and I saw his eyes were on me.

You look too pretty to be useful. Truer words were never spoken.

And yes, even in the poor lighting, I could see that she was beautiful—in a deadly way—and that struck me too. Her pictures hadn't done her justice. Long, dark hair framed a face filled with the sort of hard-edged beauty a man might easily dash his heart against.

She was like a tropical flower in this dark, stuffy room. One that could kill you.

They're beautiful. You're beautiful.

standing there in that glittering dress and wielding flame like some sort of avenging goddess.

You said it yourself: you escaped with me to feel the world again. Its beauty.

We're suckers for this, Sydney. Men. You've got me completely helpless right now. You're so beautiful and alluring, and we guys can't help ourselves. We fight wars for you, cajole you . . . and you put up with us. We have it easy here in bed.

Strigoi don't see beauty. Only death. You found something beautiful. One thing that's beautiful.

Porque a veces, una persona puede estar tan atrapada en los detalles que se pierde todo. No es sólo el cabello o el vestido. Eres tú. Tú eres hermosa. Tan Hermosa, que duele. • capítulo 24

A pesar del frío, brillaba el sol, y sus rayos alumbraron de fondo su cabello. El podría haber sido un ángel, pensé. • capítulo 13

I could've drowned in that beauty, that and the love I could feel radiating off of her.

She sat up, cheeks flushed and golden hair tousled. She was so beautiful that it made my soul ache.

She was so beautiful that it made my soul ache. I always wished desperately that I could paint her in these moments and immortalize that look in her eyes. There was a softness in them that I rarely saw at other times, a total and complete vulnerability in someone who was normally so guarded and analytical in the rest of her life. But although I was a decent painter, capturing her on canvas was beyond my skill.

she seemed too beautiful and too ethereal to be part of this dreary landscape.

Think reds, orange, yellows, greens, purple, blue — the darker and deeper the colors, the better they are for you.

Der Abend ist mein Buch Der Abend ist mein Buch. Ihm prangen die Deckel purpurn in Damast; ich löse seine goldnen Spangen mit kühlen Händen, ohne Hast. Und lese seine erste Seite, beglückt durch den vertrauten Ton, - und lese leiser seine zweite, und seine dritte träum ich schon.

Lauschende Wolke über dem Wald. Wie wir sie lieben lernten, seit wir wissen, wie wunderbald sie als weckender Regen prallt an die träumenden Ernten.

The sun crouched behind leaves, but the trees had long since walked away. The meaning that surfaces comes to me aslant and I go to meet it, stepping out of my body word for word, until I am everything at once: the perfume of the world in which I go under, a skindiver remembering air

I prove a theorem and the house expands: the windows jerk free to hover near the ceiling, the ceiling floats away with a sigh. As the walls clear themselves of everything but transparency, the scent of carnations leaves with them. I am out in the open and above the windows have hinged into butterflies, sunlight glinting where they've intersected. They are going to some point true and unproven

THE HOUSE SLAVE Those days I lie on my cot, shivering in the early heat, and as the fields unfold to whiteness, and they spill like bees among the fat flowers, I weep. It is not yet daylight.

EXEUNT THE VIOLS Listen: even the ocean mourns the passage of voices so pure and penetrant, that insect hum. Who discovered usefulness? Who forgot how to sing, simply? (Magnificence spoke up briefly, followed by the race boat's break-neck dazzle.)…their last chord a breath drawn deep in a garden maze, there near the statue smiling under the stars.