Quotes About Beauty

He was, and she had to swallow very hard to keep from choking, the most terribly beautiful man she had ever seen. He had a long, wicked scar that traveled from his temple down his cheek to the side of his chin and below his jaw. Somehow, though, it just didn't detract from his handsomeness, dark though that was. His face was all planes and angles, harsh even in the deepening gloom. His hair was dark and his eyes were full of cynicism.

You know, the ocean is a very, very beautiful place. It is God's gift to us

Joseph Robertson wrote in an essay on punctuation in 1785, "The art of punctuation is of infinite consequence in writing; as it contributes to the perspicuity, and consequently to the beauty, of every composition.

If this is a dream, why aren't I young and handsome for you? You are young and handsome to me, she said huskily, and reached up to slip one hand around his neck. I like you just the way you are. I find you sexy just as you are. I want you just as your are.

The lass was bonnie enough, he acknowledged as his gaze slid over the waves of strawberry blond hair that framed her heart-shaped face.

Your face is lined with beauty from laughter and tears

Ruth Berenici sat on her narrow bed, tall and gray and beautiful, tracing with her fingertips the scar that immobilized the right side of her head from beneath the eye down to that place where neck meets shoulder. It would be naïve to mistake John Truck's half of that ramshackle, enduring affair for pity. It might well have been the other way round.

Outside, a dog sprawls among the empty tables, its body rocking with the evening heat. Someone has given it a hamburger which first it guards, then, eventually, eats. It's some kind of winter dog, a malamute perhaps, a dog of marvellous subtle greys and whites. Also of transparent intelligence, and less transparent motive. The beauty of an animal like this appears to fix it in our expectations. But while its beauty says one thing, its heart may say another.

You are a beautiful and beloved individual. It is good to be you. We will love you no matter what you do, as long as you are you.

Books are like people. They can be beautiful on the outside and it's wonderful when they are, but what counts is the inside. And the inside of a book can be communicated in a dozen different ways, and cheaply enough that everyone can have access. And everyone should.

Spend lavishly on creams. Wash your hair with henna at the first sign of gray. Never spend one minute thinking about what you do not have. And most importantly, indulge in everything but love.

Beauty can make a woman rich, but if she relies solely on her looks to get by, she'll always remain under a man's thumb.

O salto é grande mas o tempo é um tecido invisível em que se pode bordar tudo, uma flor, um pássaro, uma dama, um castelo, um túmulo. Também se pode bordar nada. Nada em cima de invisível é a mais sutil obra deste mundo, e acaso do outro.

Love, my lads! And above all, love pretty, charming girls; they are the remedy for evil, they give a sweet smell to rottenness, they exchange life for death...Love, my lads!

As estrelas são ainda menos lindas que os seus olhos, e afinal nem sei mesmo o que elas sejam; Deus, que as pôs tão alto, é porque não poderão ser vistas de perto, sem perder muito da formosura... Mas os seus olhos, não; estão aqui, ao pé de mim, grandes, luminosos, mais luminosos que o céu...

With that, the years slipped away, though not her beauty, because she had never had any.

Infelizmente não há bonito sem senão, nem prazer sem amargura. Que mel não deixa um travo de veneno?

os poetas em todos os tempos tiveram sempre queda para as criaturas descoradas. (O Segredo de Augusta)

Deixei-me estar a contemplar o cadáver, com alguma simpatia, confesso. Imaginei que ela saíra do mato, almoçada e feliz. A manhã era linda.

As pessoas valem o que vale a afeição da gente, e é daí que mestre Povo tirou aquele adágio que quem o feio ama bonito lhe parece.

Who would ever ask for the fragrance of morning when faced with the twilight of afternoon?

Não venho restaurá-la. Esquecer é uma necessidade. A vida é uma lousa, em que o destino, para escrever um novo caso, precisa apagar o caso escrito. Obra de lápis e esponja. Não, não venho restaurá-la. Há milhares de ações tão bonitas, ou ainda mais bonitas do que a do Nicolau, e comidas do esquecimento.

Tudo nos parece melhor e mais belo, — fruto da nossa ilusão, — e alegres com vermos o ano que desponta, não reparamos que ele é também um passo para a morte.

E caem!- Folhas misérrimas do meu cipreste, heis de cair, como quaisquer outras belas e vistosas; e, se eu tivesse olhos, dar-vos-ia uma lágrima de saudade. Esta é a grande vantagem da morte, que, se não deixa boca para rir, também não deixa olhos para chorar... Heis de cair.