Quotes About Beauty

When people look at my pictures I want them to feel the way they do when they want to read a line of a poem twice.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep. But I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep.

Poetry begins in delight and ends in wisdom.

The trees that have it in their pent-up buds To darken nature and be summer woods -

The artist in me cries out for design.

Whose woods these are I think I know.His house is in the village though;He will not see me stopping hereTo watch his woods fill up with snow.

I'm going out to clean the pasture spring;I'll only stop to rake the leaves away(And wait to watch the water clear, I may):I shan't be gone long.—You come too.

Why make so much of fragmentary blueIn here and there a bird, or butterfly,Or flower, or wearing-stone, or open eye,When heaven presents in sheets the solid hue?

Nature's first green is gold, Her hardest hue to hold. Her early leaf's a flower; But only so an hour. Then leaf subsides to leaf. So Eden sank to grief, So dawn goes down to day. Nothing gold can stay.

Earth's the right place for love. I don't know where it's likely to go better.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.But I have promises to keep,And miles to go before I sleepAnd miles to go before I sleep.

These woods are lovely, dark and deep, But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep.

Nature's first green is gold, Her hardest hue to hold. Her early leaf's a flower; But only so an hour. Then leaf subsides to leaf. So Eden sank to grief, So dawn goes down to day. Nothing gold can stay.

sunset falls just right behind the sea, and not just when we look into the eyes of a newborn. The

All this is true, and if it were all, how beautiful, how touching, how glorious it would be. But it is not all. There is another side.

So, when we look upon a flower, a painting, a statue, a star, or a violet, the more we know, the more we have experienced, the more we have thought, the more we remember, the more the statue, the star, the painting, the violet has to tell.

Every flower that gives its fragrance to the wandering air leaves its influence on the soul of man. The wheel and swoop of the winged creatures of the air suggest the flowing lines of subtle art. The roar and murmur of the restless sea, the cataract's solemn chant, the thunder's voice, the happy babble of the brook, the whispering leaves, the thrilling notes of mating birds, the sighing winds, taught man to pour his heart in song and gave a voice to grief and hope, to love and death.

When you are young, and beautiful, you can be very cruel.

You could find beauty nearly anywhere if you stopped to look for it, but the battle to get through the days made it easy to forget that this totally cost-free luxury existed.

Though they spent so much time trying to make themselves beautiful, you were not supposed to admit to women that beauty mattered.

In spite of her plainness that would have made wallflowers of other women, she radiated a great sense of self-importance.

Those who did not know the ocean well forgot its solidity, its brutality.

As always, he found her better-looking in the flesh than in the memory he had of her when not present.

You could find beauty nearly anywhere if you stopped to look for it,