Quotes About Beauty

It was the sweetest, most mysterious-looking place any one could imagine. The high walls which shut it in were covered with the leafless stems of climbing roses which were so thick that they were matted together.

If you fill your mind with a beautiful thought, there will be no room in it for an ugly one. - King Amor

It is the sun shining on the rain and the rain falling on the sunshine, and things pushing up and working under the earth

Don't let us make it tidy, said Mary anxiously. It wouldn't seem like a secret garden if it was tidy.

And over walls and earth and trees and swinging sprays and tendrils the fair green veil of tender little leaves had crept, and in the grass under the trees and the gray urns in the alcoves and here and there everywhere were touches or splashes of gold and purple and white and the trees were showing pink and snow above his head and there were fluttering of wings and faint sweet pipes and humming and scents and scents.

the paths and down the avenue, she was stirring her slow blood and making herself stronger

And the roses—the roses! Rising out of the grass, tangled round the sun-dial, wreathing the tree trunks and hanging from their branches, climbing up the walls and spreading over them with long garlands falling in cascades—they came alive day by day, hour by hour. Fair fresh leaves, and buds—and buds—tiny at first but swelling and working Magic until they burst and uncurled into cups of scent delicately spilling themselves over their brims and filling the garden air.

Lottie was so delighted that she quite forgot her first shocked impression of the attic. In fact, when she was lifted down from the table and returned to earthly things, as it were, Sara was able to point out to her many beauties in the room which she herself would not have suspected the existence of.

All girls are! Even if they live in tiny old attics, even if they dress in rags, even if they aren't pretty, or smart, or young, they're still princesses - all of us! Didn't your father ever tell you that? Didn't he?

Fair fresh leaves, and buds—and buds—tiny at first but swelling and working Magic until they burst and uncurled into cups of scent delicately spilling themselves over their brims and filling the garden air.

If you have never had a garden you cannot understand, and if you have had a garden you will know that it would take a whole book to describe all that came to pass there.

She was all in pink, and a wreath of little pink wild roses lay close about her head, making her, with her tall young slimness, look like a Botticelli nymph.

I wouldn't want to make it look like a gardener's garden, all clipped an' spick an' span, would you?" he said. "It's nicer like this with things runnin' wild, an' swingin' an' catchin' hold of each other." "Don't let us make it tidy," said Mary anxiously. "It wouldn't seem like a secret garden if it was tidy.

nothing which did not understand the wonderfulness of what was happening to them--the immense, tender, terrible, heart-breaking beauty and solemnity of Eggs...if an Egg were to be taken away or hurt the whole world would whirl round and crash through space and come to an end...

Poor little thin, sallow, ugly Mary—she actually looked almost pretty for a moment.

She liked books more than anything else, and was, in fact, always inventing stories of beautiful things, and telling them to herself

and there she was standing on the grass, which seemed to have turned green, and with the sun pouring down on her and warm sweet wafts about her and the fluting and twittering and singing coming from every bush and tree. She clasped her hands for pure joy and looked up in the sky and it was so blue and pink and pearly and white and flooded with springtime light that she felt as if she must flute and sing aloud herself

Frances Hodgson Burnett

Frances Hodgson Burnett

Suddenly it seemed as if he might a sort of wood fairy who might be gone when she came into the garden again. He seemed too good to be true.

Frances Hodgson Burnett

And the sun fell warm upon his face like a hand with a lovely touch.

Frances Hodgson Burnett

Frances Hodgson Burnett