Quotes About Beauty

do botão luzia ou saquarema nasce um magnífico lírio saquarema ou luzia.

Tudo é música, meu amigo.

A vida é tão bela que a mesma ideia da morte precisa de vir primeiro a ela, antes de se ver cumprida.

Veja se posso amar ou pretender: primeiro, não sou bonito (...); segundo: não sou curioso, e o amor, se o reduzirmos às suas verdadeiras proporções, não passa de uma curiosidade; terceiro: não sou paciente, e nas conquistas amorosas a paciência é a principal virtude; quarto, finalmente: não sou idiota, porque, se com todos estes defeitos pretendesse amar, mostraria a maior falta de razão (Linha reta e linha curva)

A falta de uma crítica assim é um dos maiores males de que padece a nossa literatura; é mister que a análise corrija ou anime a invenção, que os pontos de doutrina e de história se investiguem, que as belezas se estudem, que os senões se apontem, que o gosto se apure e eduque, e se desenvolva e caminhe aos altos destinos que a esperam.

mulher feita, refeita e perfeita.

Amai, rapazes! E, principalmente, amai moças lindas e graciosas; elas dão remédio ao mal, aroma ao infecto, trocam a morte pela vida... Amai, rapazes!

Que mulher será essa, perguntou a si mesmo, tão bela que mete medo, tão fantasiosa que causa lástima? 

She was pretty, fresh, she came from the hands of nature full of that sorcery, uncertain and eternal, that an individual passes to another individual for the secret ends of creation.'' The Posthumous Memoirs of Bras Cubas- Machado de Asis

Holiness comes wrapped in the ordinary. There are burning bushes all around you. Every tree is full of angels. Hidden beauty is waiting in every crumb.

Calvin said, Do you know that this is the first time I've seen you without your glasses? I'm blind as a bat without them. I'm near-sighted, like father. Well, you know what, you've got dream-boat eyes, Calvin said. Listen, you go right on wearing your glasses. I don't think I want anybody else to see what gorgeous eyes you have.

She began to feel the sense of wonderful elation that always came to her when beauty took hold of her and made her forget her fears.

There are still stars which move in ordered and beautiful rhythm. There are still people in this world who keep promises.

The artist, if he is not to forget how to listen, must retain the visionwhich includes angels and dragons and unicorns, and all the lovely creatures which our world would put in a bos marked, 'Children Only.

If we allow our high creativity to remain alive, we will never be bored. We can pray, standing in line at the super market. Or we can be lost in awe at all the people around us, their lives full of glory and tragedy, and suddenly we will have the beginnings of a painting, a story, a song.

The very young woman can be charming and delightful and pretty but only a mature woman can be beautiful; and only a mature man can be strong enough to be tender.

He knew what she wanted, and he wanted it, too; he was ready, but not, despite her gorgeousness, with Tiglah. Tiglah was not worth losing his ability to touch a unicorn.

I get glimmers of the bad nineteenth-century teaching which has made Mother remove God from the realm of mystery and beauty and glory, but why do people half my age think that they don't have faith unless their faith is small and comprehensible and like a good old plastic Jesus?

From the shoulders, slowly a pair of wings unfolded, wings made of rainbows, of light upon water, of poetry. Calvin fell to his knees. No, Mrs. Whatsit said, though her voice was not Mrs. Whatsit's voice. Not to me Calvin. Never to me. Stand up.

Very few of us understand Honorable Bird, except to acknowledge that without his power and grace nothing would be written, painted, or composed at all. To say anything beyond this about the creative process is like pulling all the petals off a flower in order to analyze it, and ending up having destroyed the flower.

Well, I think you're handsome

Let us not try to understand the pattern, only rejoice in its beauty.

After Justin's death she had had it cut short, and felt that it was more becoming than the heavy masses of long hair he had loved, and which took forever to dry and dress. The short, well-styled hair toweled dry in a few minutes, and fell in becoming waves over her high forehead, her small delicate ears, showing the graceful curve of her neck.

The sky lightened, and the sun sent its fiery rays over the edge of the lake, reaching up into the sky, pulling itself, dripping, from the waters of the night.