Quotes About Beauty

Die menschliche Stimme ist das schönste Instrument überhaupt, das ergreifendste. Selbst der größte Virtuose der Welt würde niemals auch nur ein Viertel der Hälfte an Emotionen auslösen wie eine schöne Stimme.

Me dieron ganas de cogerle la mano o el brazo mientras él miraba toda esa belleza babeando, como un pobre chucho flaco ante un hueso súper jugoso pero fuera de su alcance, y decirle bajito: Volveremos... Te prometo que volveremos... ¡Levanta la cabeza, Franck! Te prometo que algún día volveremos... Y nos quedaremos para siempre...

Look, isn't this beautiful? So simple. Just one stroke, and there you are. A flower, a fish, a grasshopper. Look at this duck, how angry it looks; or these mountains in the mist. And you see how he's drawn the mist? As if it were nothing, just an emptiness. And these chicks, see them? So soft you want to stroke them. Look, his ink is like down, his ink is soft...

The human voice is the most beautiful instrument of all, the most moving... And even the greatest virtuoso in the world will never be able to give you even a fraction of the emotion that a beautiful voice can give you. That is our share of the divine.

On est souvent trompe en amour, souvent blesse et souvent malheureux, mais on aime. Et, quand on est sur le bord de sa tombe, on se retourne pour regarder en arriere et on se dit: J'ai souffert souvent, je me suis trompe quelquefois, mais j'ai aime. C'est moi que ai vecu, et non pas un etre factice cree par mon orgueil et mon ennui. Elle aime l'amour a la folie et c'est ca qui fait toute sa vulnerabilite. Et toute sa beaute, aussi.

She drew the Loire. Slow, wide, calm, imperturbable. The lazy sandbanks, the pilings, the mildewed boats. Over there, a cormorant. Pale rushes and the blue of the sky. A winter blue- metallic, brilliant, bold, showing off its colors between two big weary clouds.

Tev š? vai t? visas skaist?s lietas liekas negl?tas…

Je suis assez honnête, moi, pour faire la part des choses entre le beau et le vrai et préféré le beau quand il s'impose.

todos los hombres son imbéciles y que todas las mujeres son unas brujas, pero que no hay nada más bello en el mundo que lo que ocurre entre un imbécil y una bruja cuando se aman...

The purer the elements, the purer the work. In painting, there are two methods of expression, form and color; and the purer the colors, the purer the beauty of the work.

She's pretty, but in her face you can see all the things she's given up on in life.

The first stab of love is like a sunset, a blaze of color -- oranges, pearly pinks, vibrant purples...

Be beautiful if you can, wise if you want to, but be respected - that is essential.

So rescue yourself from these general themes and write about what your everyday life offers you; describe your sorrows and desires, the thoughts that pass through your mind and your belief in some kind of beauty—describe all these with heartfelt, silent, humble sincerity and, when you express yourself, use the Things around you, the images from your dreams, and the objects you remember.

I have hands full of this radiance. It flows through my fingers. It doesn't diminish.

Hath the spirit of all beauty Kissed you in the path of duty?

Her albino hair illuminated my dreams, shining brighter than moonlight.

Sometimes a savage beauty lured me into the sun and I would start to love the danger a little. On these occasions I felt the reluctant love drained painfully from me as blood drains from a deep wound. The tigers lapped my love's blood and remained enemies. The inhabitants of the day laughed at the gift I wanted to bring them, and I shut myself in my inner room to escape the betrayal of their arrogant mouths.

It is not easy to describe my mother. Remote and starry, her sad stranger's grace did not concern the landscape of the day. Should I say that she was beautiful or that she did not love me? Have shadows beauty? Does the night love her child?

I am beautiful, famous and gorgeous.

Let me here, Content and grateful, wait the appointed time, And ripen for the skies: the hour will come When all these splendours bursting on my sight Shall stand unveiled, and to my ravished sense Unlock the glories of the world unknown.

But, my God, it's so beautiful when the boy smiles

Somewhere in every one of us, no matter how deep it may be hidden, is a latent germ of beauty. ... We dance because this germ of beauty demands such expression, and the more we give it outlet the more we encourage our own instinct for graceful forms. It is by the steady elimination of everything which is ugly-thoughts and words no less than tangible objects-and by the substitution of things of true and lasting beauty that the whole progress of humanity proceeds.

The only excuse for dancing is grace and beauty of movement.