Quotes About Beauty

There never was another part of Paris that he loved like that

A young dame with pretty eyes and a smile can make an old man do just about anything.

He was beautiful, the old man remembered, and he had stayed.

But living was a field of grain blowing in the wind on the side of a hill. Living was a hawk in the sky. Living was an earthen jar of water in the dust of the threshing with the grain flailed out and the chaff blowing. Living was a horse between your legs and a carbine under one leg and a hill and a valley and a stream with trees along it and the far side of the valley and the hills beyond.

Margot was too beautiful for Macomber to divorce her and Macomber had too much money for Margot ever to leave him.

They had a sound basis of union. Margot was too beautiful for Macomber to divorce her and Macomber had too much money for Margot ever to leave him.

You've got a lovely everything.

Scott was a man then who looked like a boy with a face between handsome and pretty... The mouth worried you until you knew him and then it worried you more.

She had a gently modelled face and her eyes and her smile lighted up at decisions as though they were rich presents.

It's gone the way the mist is burned off the hollows in broken ground when the sun comes out,' the Colonel said. 'And you're the sun.

Morir no tenía importancia ni se hacía de la muerte ninguna idea aterradora. Pero vivir era un campo de trigo balanceándose a impulsos del viento en el flanco de una colina. Vivir era un halcón en el cielo. Vivir era un botijo entre el polvo del grano segado y la paja que vuela. Vivir era un caballo entre las piernas y una carabina al hombro, y una colina, y un valle, y un arroyo bordeado de árboles, y el otro lado del valle con otras colinas a lo lejos.

Siempre le había gustado aquella hora del día, y ahora sentía como si él mismo fuese una parte del amanecer, como si fuese una porción de esa luz gris, de ese lento aclarar que precede a la salida del sol, cuando los objetos sólidos se oscurecen, el espacio se ilumina, las luces de la noche se hacen amarillas y se esfuman a medida que avanza el día.

He always thought of the sea as 'la mar' which is what people call her in Spanish when they love her. Sometimes those who love her say bad things of her but they are always said as though she were a woman.

Dying was nothing and he had no picture of it nor fear of it in his mind. But living was a field of grain blowing in the wind on the side of a hill. Living was a hawk in the sky. Living was an earthen jar of water in the dust of the threshing with the grain flailed out and the chaff blowing. Living was a horse between your legs and a carbine under one leg and a hill and a valley and the hills beyond.

great, high, and unbelievably white in the sun, was the square top of Kilimanjaro.

Isn't it pretty to think so?

Oh, in Hong Kong the millionaires had scouts all through the country. All over China. It was just like the Brooklyn Dodgers' baseball team looking for ballplayers. As soon as a beautiful girl was located in any town or village their agents bought her and she was shipped in and trained and groomed and cared for.

And what happened?' 'Much,' the woman said. 'Much. And all of it ugly. Even that which was glorious.

Brett vypadala sakra báje?nÄ›. MÄ›la na sobÄ› pletený pulovr a tvídovou sukni a vlasy mÄ›la skartá?ované dozadu jako kluk. Ona to vÅ¡echno za?ala. Byla stavÄ›ná jako závodní jachta a v tom pulovru ?lovÄ›k žádnou její zaoblinu nepÃ…â"¢ehlíd.

Vamos, I'm not ugly. I was born ugly. All my life I have been ugly. You, Inglés, who know nothing about women. Do you know how an ugly woman feels? Do you know what it is to be ugly all your life and inside to feel that you are beautiful? It is very rare

Há sempre países mágicos que fazem parte da nossa infância. Os que nos vêm à memória e que visitamos quando dormimos e sonhamos. São tão maravilhosos à noite como quando eramos crianças. Se alguma vez voltamos para os ver, desvanecem-se. Mas à noite não perdem nada da antiga beleza se tivermos a sorte de sonhar com eles

Then, while the old man was clearing the lines and preparing the harpoon, the male fish jumped high into the air beside the boat to see where the female was and then went down deep, his lavender wings, that were his pectoral fins, spread wide and all his wide lavender stripes showing. He was beautiful, the old man remembered, and he had stayed.

Non lo disse ad alta voce perché sapeva che a dirle, le cose belle non succedono.

turned around and looked after her. "If she did not have her hair cut so short she would be a pretty girl," he said.