Quotes About Beauty

Don't be sad and don't give up on your dreams. Dreams will come true one day. There's no person as beautiful as a person who dreams

Los Angeles, give me some of you! Los Angeles come to me the way I came to you, my feet over your streets, you pretty town I loved you so much, you sad flower in the sand, you pretty town!

Even knowing the ending was sad, I wouldn't have deprived myself the beauty of the story.

I am who I am. Life is too beautiful to be sad, to be depressed. The sun comes up every day and it's beautiful.

Don't be sad that roses have thorns. Be glad that thorns have Roses. Today's the day I worried about yesterday and it didn't happen.

Tutto ciò che di grande e bello c'è al mondo, gratta gratta, non è mai nato da un discorso razionale. Mai.

You are too bright, my Camille, too beautiful for so much darkness. And yet, you would walk under the dark of the moon

Sometimes, the monsters are terribly beautiful, and the heroes loathsome.

A beautiful woman should wear beauty to her bed.

The true joy of a moonlit night is something we no longer understand. Only the men of old, when there were no lights, could understand the true joy of a moonlit night.

Put your soul in the palm of my hand for me to look at, like a crystal jewel. I'll sketch it in words...

The road was frozen. The village lay quiet under the cold sky. Komako hitched up the skirt of her kimono and tucked it into her obi. The moon shone like a blade frozen in blue ice.

Was this the bright vastness the poet Bash? saw when he wrote of the Milky Way arched over a stormy sea?

The stars, almost too many of them to be true, came forward so brightly that it was as if they were falling with the swiftness of the void.

My revolution of the Self, which has been such an essential part of my life so far, is all about discovering death. My destiny is to make art for my own requiem: art which gives meaning to death, tracing the beauty of colours and space in the silence of death's footsteps and the 'nothingness' it promises.

Symbols A storm-beaten old watch-tower, A blind hermit rings the hour. All-destroying sword-blade still Carried by the wandering fool. Gold-sewn silk on the sword-blade, Beauty and fool together laid.

We sat grown quiet at the name of love. We saw the last embers of daylight die And in the trembling blue-green of the sky A moon, worn as if it had been a shell Washed by time's waters as they rose and fell About the stars and broke in days and years.

He only can create the greatest imaginable beauty who has endured all imaginable pangs, for only when we have seen and foreseen what we dread shall we be rewarded by that dazzling unforeseen wing-footed wanderer.

I had thought for no one's but your ears; That you were beautiful and that I strove To love you in the old high way of love; That it had all seemed happy, and yet we'd grown As weary hearted as that hollow moon.

You got too tired of being an advertisement for our world, so that angels could see: yes it's pretty, earth.

But, alas! in this world nothing lasts forever. Even the moon is not always perfect in shape, but loses its roundness with time, and flowers bloom and then fade.

no one sleeps more beautifully than you. But i am afraid that you will waken just now, and touch me with an indifferent glance, lightly passing, and commit the murder of beauty.

Translation is like a woman. If it is beautiful, it is not faithful. If it is faithful, it most certainly not beautiful

The nights were long, like the braids of a pretty girl, and the days were short, like a girl's sense. ("The North")