Quotes About Beauty

Where lipstick is concerned, the important thing is not color, but to accept God's final word on where your lips end.

Her smile put the sunflower to shame.

She laughed, and the desert sang.

Sometimes I think life's nothin' but sittin' around watchin' pretty go bad.

He hadn't expected anyone so pretty, and it threw him. Tina had the Faye Dunaway thing. Faye before the surgery, when her cheekbones were still as sharp as can openers and she looked like a feral gazelle.

Let me tell you something. Boring women get a bad rap. There's a lot to be said for boring women.

In a garden, things grow . . . but first, they must wither; trees have to lose their leaves in order to put forth new leaves, and to grow thicker and stronger and taller. Some trees die, but fresh saplings replace them. Gardens need a lot of care. But if you love your garden, you don't mind working in it, and waiting. Then in the proper season you will surely see it flourish.

No treballi tant, senyor secretari, deixi la paperassa i vingui a finestrejar. Guaiti, fixi's en aqueixa noia tan bonica que travessa la plaça. No badi, cregui'm, això dura poc. En un tres i no res, passem d'embrions incerts a calaveres atònites.

Distinguí a un lado de la aldea a un grupo de artesanos, que con destreza y sentido innato de la estética y la armonía de las formas, elaboraban hermosas vasijas de barro.

Allí mismo, veíamos asomar el sol al siguiente día, «enlagunados» por el licor.

El amanecer se acerca con toda su luz de oro, después de caminar varios minutos contra el viento seco

When a man sits with a pretty girl for an hour, it seems like a minute. But let him sit on a hot stove for a minute—and it's longer than any hour. That's relativity.

What's the whole point of being pretty on the outside when you're so ugly on the inside?

The human body is the best work of art.

Every woman should have pearls," Mom said, "to remind ourselves that grit under pressure becomes beauty.

In the dying firelight, Benedict's face was relaxed in sleep. He was so handsome, so perfect. She brushed a lock of hair from his forehead and he did not stir with the motion. She smiled, but the expression faded as a strong desire welled up in her. A desire to do something she had never done before. She touched him again, to be certain he was not awake. When he didn't move or react, she leaned closer, her hands shaking. "I love you

They darted like needles through the morning - they wove the bright May morning into a fabric strong enough to support a party.

The old man began to sing. His voice was very lovely and obviously a part of something that the world had disposed of in its haste, evidence of a grander, kinder past.

The old man took out an extraordinarily beautiful and elegant handkerchief and gave it to her to dry her tears. It was the sort of handkerchief that one might be content to be judged by if it was all that remained of one after one's death.

She would allow her hair to be loose, and she then would appear to me out of the corner of my eye as some blinding Valkyrie, some effulgent flood of a thing, beauty without no boundaries, burning at the edges of itself.

At all times all parts of the world are eternally fascinating.

For me, makeup is about being your best self. If I wake up in a foul mood and have to deal with temper tantrums and an exploding diaper--I know taking 10 minutes to get my game face on will reset my stress levels. It's a chance to check in and remind myself--you got this.

Beauty belongs to the beloved who returns the gaze, in whose eyes we see the sun. But in this . . . beauty, in the mutual gaze, also lies the beginning of terror --awe, idealization, overstimulation, violation, loss.

She [Pansy] pushed in next to Poppy so that she could see him around the guard's elbow. She was as tall as Poppy, with shining dark-brown hair and blue eyes. An utterly lovely girl, as all the princesses were, yet Oliver thought Petunia was far more beautiful.