Quotes About Beauty

Single strand of pearls, wild, not cultured. (Worth it, she said: only the wild ones had souls.)

Gavin has tried quoting Yeats to the effect that women must labour to be beautiful, but Reynolds--who used to be a passionate Yeats fan--is now of the opinion that Yeats is entitled to his point of view, but that was then and social attitudes were different then, and in actual fact Yeats is dead.

Of course she was very beautiful. It was claimed she'd come out of an egg, being the daughter of Zeus who'd raped her mother in the form of a swan. She was quite stuck-up about it, was Helen. I wonder how many of us really believed that swan-rape concoction?

If you're going to be wrong, at least be hot.

Before Octavia was born, I used to think that love bore some relation to merit and to beauty, but now I saw that this was not so.

Mary watched the sunset from her carriage window, realizing that such beauty could never last. Life was a golden glory that faded in the wink of an eye. Life was a village fair that only lasted for a single day. As the carriage rattled along, rocking her like a babe in arms, Mary felt very old and wise. She found that she didn't mind being taken back to the castle, to a caring captivity that was filled with comforts and kindness. And she also found that she couldn't keep her eyes open.

For a man, however, it was the opposite. Alexander's beauty was not felt to detract from his generalship. Nowhere was it hinted that a handsome man could not be a good ruler, or clever, or strong, or brave. In fact, people longed for a resplendent king. But for a woman…I shook my head. It was as if beauty in a woman rendered all other traits suspect.

Whether you are classically beautiful or not, this one thing I know: you give the impression of being beautiful, which is all one can ask. The jewels become you, they do not belittle you.

Whatever their names or pedigree, snowdrops were something to look forward to - the earliest and bravest of the brave spring bulbs, defying the winter gloom.

Men and women, they were beautiful and wild, all a little violent under their pleasant ways and only a little tamed.

But she knew that no matter what beauty lay behind, it must remain there. No one could go forward with a load of aching memories.

Scarlett O'Hara was not beautiful, but men seldom realized it when caught by her charm as the Tarleton twins were.

She was as forthright and simple as the winds that blew over Tara and the yellow river that wound around it.

Somehow the bright beauty had gone from April afternoon and from her heart as well and the sad sweetness of remembering was as bitter as gall.

To Scarlett, there was something breath-taking about Ellen O'Hara, a miracle that lived in the house with her and awed her and charmed and soothed her.

I want peace. I want to see if somewhere there isn't something left in life of charm and grace.

She lay in the silvery shadows with courage rising and made the plans that a sixteen-year-old makes when life has been so pleasant that defeat is an impossibility and a pretty dress and a clear complexion are weapons to vanquish fate

It was unreal, grotesquely unreal, that morning skies which dawned so tenderly blue could be profaned with cannon smoke that hung over the town like low thunder clouds, that warm noontides filled with the piercing sweetness of massed honeysuckle and climbing roses could be so fearful, as shells screamed into the streets, bursting like the crack of doom, throwing iron splinters hundreds of yards, blowing people and animals to bits.

You're a pretty person, Scarlett," he said. "Especially when you are meditating devilment.

There was madness and magic in the slim body he held, and the lips turned up to him were red and trembling and he kissed her.

Scarlett O'Hara wasn't pretty.

the blinding beauty that transfigures even the plainest woman when she is utterly protected and utterly loved and is giving back that love a thousandfold.

Voi Scarlett, sinä olet huono valehtelemaan! Niin, elämässä on nyt loistoa - eräänlaista. Siinähän vika juuri onkin. Entisissä ajoissa ei ollut loistoa, mutta niissä oli suloa, kauneutta, hiljaista taikaa.

Yes, life has a glitter now-of a sort. That's what's wrong with it. The old days had no glitter but they had a charm, a beauty, a slow-paced glamour.