Quotes About Beauty

The highest and most beautiful things in life are not to be heard about, nor read about, nor seen but, if one will, are to be lived.

Adversity draws men together and produces beauty and harmony in life's relationships, just as the cold of winter produces ice-flowers on the window-panes, which vanish with the warmth.

When one has once fully entered the realm of love, the world — no matter how imperfect — becomes rich and beautiful, it consists solely of opportunities for love.

She was a riddle, who mysteriously possessed her own solution, a secret, and what are all diplomats' secrets compared with this, an enigma, and what in all the world is so beautiful as the word that solves it?

Birkaç aÄŸlama nöbetinin ard?ndan ÅŸimdi ÅŸu dingin ruh haliyle ne kadar güzelleÅŸti. Varl??? hüzünle ac?n?n güzel bir uyumu

People commonly travel the world over to see rivers and mountains, new stars, garish birds, freak fish, grotesque breeds of human; they fall into an animal stupor that gapes at existence and they think they have seen something.

The highest and most beautiful things in life are not to be heard, nor read about, nor seen, but, if one will, are to be lived.

As a genius St. Paul cannot be compared with either Plato or Shakespeare, as a coiner of beautiful similes he comes pretty low down in the scale, as a stylist his name is quite obscure--and as an upholsterer: well, I frankly admit I have no idea how to place him.

Creo que se podría vivir constantemente absorto en la contemplación de un ser femenino.

Quise mantener mi sufrimiento oculto para entonces embellecer la vida a los demás.

No me gustan las jóvenes que se consideran interesantes, pues sólo se llega a serlo tras un estudio de uno mismo, igual que en lo interesante se exhibe siempre la persona del artista. Una señora que pretenda gustar por ser interesante, ha de comenzar por agradarse a sí misma. Esto no es bonito: constituye una de las desventajas que la estética puede reprochar a la coquetería

So despair, then, and your frivolity shall never more cause you to roam like an inconstant spirit, like a ghost among the ruins of a world which is yet lost to you; despair, and your spirit shall become beautiful and joyous to you once more, though you now look at it with different eyes, and your spirit, now liberated, shall vault up into the world of freedom.

How can the removal of beauty from a world so lacking in beauty be anything but tragic?

and she was beautiful, a beautiful, strange adventure just waiting to happen.

An inexpressible radiance suffused me. The chair was so much more beautiful than my cinematic memory that speech was inadequate. It was a haven, a refuge; I saw myself lolling in it, churchwarden poised, evolving new cosmogonies, quoting abstruse references to Occam's razor and Paley's watch. "Oh, God," I choked, extracting a fistful of bills. "I—You've made me so happy! How much?

And yet half a beast is the great God Pan To laugh as he sits by the river; Making a legend out of a man. The true Gods weep for the loss and the pain For the reed that will never grow again As a reed, with the reeds, by the river.?

from that valley near the Tetons, over past the Wind River

It is said that Mathematics is the language of nature. If so, Physics is its poetry.

When I look through your eyes, I see a disguise, and in that disguise, I see love, and in that love, you are fabulous.

Many complain of their looks, few of their brains.

How to forgive the world for its beauty, which merely disguises its ugliness; for its gentleness, which merely cloaks its cruelty; for its illusion of continuity, seamlessly, as the night follows the day, so to speak- whereas in reality life is a series of brutal raptures, falling upon your defenseless hands, like the blows of a woodman's axe?

Abraham Zogoiby covered his face that night in August 1939 because he had been assailed by fear, [...] a sudden apprehension that the ugliness of life might defeat its beauty; that love did not make lovers invulnerable. Nevertheless, he thought, even if the world's beauty and love were on the edge of destruction, theirs would still be the only side to be on; defeated love would still be love, hate's victory would not make it other than it was.

She saw him fracture into rainbow colors through the prism of her love.

The beautiful came to this city [Hollywood] in huge pathetic herds, to suffer, to be humiliated, to see the powerful currency of their beauty devalued like the Russian ruble or Argentine peso;to work as bellhops, as bar hostesses, as garbage collectors, as maids. The city was a cliff and they were its stampeding lemmings. At the foot of the cliff was the valley of the broken dolls.