Quotes About Beauty

Isn't that a view worth looking at? Nice and far from the marketplace, ain't it? No buying and selling and getting gain. You don't have to pay anything- all that sea and sky free- 'without money and without price.

How can I be vain when I know I'm homely? protested Anne. I love pretty things; and I hate to look in the glass and see something that isn't pretty. It makes me feel so sorrowful—just as I feel when I look at any ugly thing. I pity it because it isn't beautiful.

Anne laughed -- then shivered. I can never forget the night I thought you were dying, Gilbert. Oh, I knew -- I KNEW then -- and I thought it was too late. But it wasn't, sweetheart. Oh, Anne, this makes up for everything, doesn't it? Let's resolve to keep this day sacred to perfect beauty all our lives for the gift it has given us. It's the birthday of our happiness, said Anne softly.

Girls, sometimes I feel as if those exams meant everything, but when I look at the big buds swelling on those chestnut trees and the misty blue air at the end of the streets they don't seem half so important.

She lifted her head and stepped lightly along, her eyes fixed on the sunset sky and an air of subdued exhilaration about her.

GüneÅŸin ÅŸu tepelerin ard?ndan doÄŸuÅŸunu ve köknarlar?n sivri uçlar? aras?ndan parlay???n? izlemek muhteÅŸem bir ÅŸey. Her gün sanki yenileniyormuÅŸ ve ruhum güneÅŸin bu ilk ???klar?yla y?kan?yormuÅŸ gibi hissediyorum.

One moonbeam from the forehead to the crown

The girl's beauty and sorrow and loneliness drew her with an irresistible fascination.

I wonder what a soul Ã¢â'¬Â¦ a person's soul Ã¢â'¬Â¦ would look like, said Priscilla dreamily. Like that, I should think, answered Anne, pointing to a radiance of sifted sunlight streaming through a birch tree. Only with shape and features of course. I like to fancy souls as being made of light. And some are all shot through with rosy stains and quivers Ã¢â'¬Â¦ and some have a soft glitter like moonlight on the sea Ã¢â'¬Â¦ and some are pale and transparent like mist at dawn.

Bóg jest w niebie i Å›wiat jest piÄ™kny.

wouldn't it have been more beautiful still, Anne, if there had been NO separation or misunderstanding . . . if they had come hand in hand all the way through life, with no memories behind them but those which belonged to each other?

If you were out in a great big woods with other trees all around you and little mosses and Junebells growing over your roots and a brook not far away and birds singing in you branches, you could grow, couldn't you? But you can't where you are. I know just exactly how you feel, little trees.

It's lovely in the woods now. All the little wood things—the ferns and the satin leaves and the crackerberries—have gone to sleep, just as if somebody had tucked them away until spring under a blanket of leaves. I think it was a little gray fairy with a rainbow scarf that came tiptoeing along the last moonlight night and did it.

Life is not a beauty contest, some ugly people are great. What I hate is nasty, ugly people... The worst is ugly, short men. Women can be short, but for men it is impossible. It is something that they will not forgive in life... they are mean and they want to kill you.

Den själarnas vackra maskerad som vi kallar kärlek... Där gyckelbilderna möts... Och tror att deras värld är upphöjd och skön!

In order to compete with sin's appeal, holy desire, the longing to live a Christlike life that displays the relational beauty of Christ to others, must be rooted in faith. And that faith exists only when it is lodged in the certainty that soon it will give way to an incomparable experience of joy that will forever destroy the appeal of sin.

There was something different about her, Jake had to admit. She had a beautiful face, a beautiful body, but also a distance in her such as he had never met in a woman. Certain mountains were that way, like the Bighorns .The air around them was so clear you could ride toward them for days without seeming to get any closer. And yet, if you kept riding, you would get to the mountains.

The eastern sky was red as coals in a forge, lighting up the flats along the river. Dew had wet the million needles of the chaparral, and when the rim of the sun edged over the horizon the chaparral seemed to be spotted with diamonds. A bush in the little backyard was filled with the little rainbows as the sun touched the dew.

She had a beautiful face, a beautiful body, but also a distance in her such as he had never met a woman.

Many white men could not trust things unless they could be explained; and yet the most beautiful things, such as the trackless flight of birds, could never be explained.

We might all get killed this afternoon, for all I know. That's the wild for you - it's got its dangers, which is part of the beauty.

He thought living in a place where there were eagles to watch might encourage some pretty good dreams.

Looking at her, though, was like looking at the hills. The hills stayed as they were. You could go them, if you had the means, but they extended no greeting.

A sleeping man would miss the best of the evening, and the moonrise as well.