Quotes About Beauty

Why shouldn't we, so generally addicted to the gigantic, at last have some small works of art, some short poems, short pieces of music [...], some intimate, low-voiced, and delicate things in our mostly huge and roaring, glaring world?

Art should be truth; and truth, unadorned, unsentimentalized, is beauty.

Art is the only thing that can go on mattering, once it has stopped hurting.

Art is one thing that can go on mattering once it has stopped hurting.

I can't help thinking -- Suppose the world was made for happiness after all.

While I stand and regard it, the indifference to myself shown by a work of art in itself is art.

She never foresaw their marriage, its days and nights, other than as embowered by dazzling acres, blossoms a snowy blaze and with honeyed stamens, by sun then moonlight, till came later - fruited boughs bowed, voluptuous, to the ground, gumminess oozing from bloomy plums. She had been a DH Lawrence reader and a townswoman.

He snuggled her up against his chest, let his warmth surround her. "This is my favorite time of day. Just before the sun starts to rise. Before there is any hint of daylight. The stars always seem their brightest now, as if they know they only have another hour or so of life. For in that time they'll all be gone from sight, lost to the sun, and hidden away until night claims the world anew. So they shine their brightest while the world still sleeps.

As he turned around, he discovered Miss Tempest, her back to him, caught in a tangle of rose canes. A rose trapped by thorns. If the front of Miss Tempest was enticing, her backside was even more so. It showed a decidedly feminine figure, with curves and soft angles that could tease a man into believing the lady was just as pliable. And any man who thought that, Pierson reminded himself, would be a fool.

wilderness—wild and brutal and glorious—

Beauty depends on the unseen, the visible upon the invisible

Wooed by a vivid cover, she picked one up and leafed through it. She loved thee way it smelled, the ink, the fine paper, the oversized photographs.

Just the word beautiful was seductive - but what did it really mean? Beauty was a soft word that ached with possibility, pliant as dough. You could not presume to define it, she realized, because the very idea of beauty and all it represented was a subjective thing - in the eye of the beholder - but that wasn't really true anymore.

Beauty depends on the unseen, George quoted the artist, the visible upon the invisible.

Freddie felt strongly that a natural appearance was only permissible, only really effective, it if was artificially produced.

Without the light the beauty remains hidden," Gofrid said. "But it is always there.

The light was muted gray in the moment before sunrise and the birdsong was a hymn to the new day and all the glorious business of living in the moment.

Without the light the beauty remains hidden," Gofrid said. "But it is always there. Just like God's love, or a father's, or a mother's. Remember that, Alienor. You are loved, whether you see it or not.

He leaned over her, the sun behind his head making a halo of gold, his face lit by the reflections off the water.

Her hair gives dawn it's fire, her eyes give dusk her soul" He knew how to use his voice to melt a girl's heart, to make a girl want to believe. I steeled myself against the seductive words. "Excuse me?" "It's a line of poetry describing a beautiful girl, one who doesn't seem to know it.

Ten, I thought, he's definitely a ten

November comes And November goes, With the last red berries And the first white snows. With night coming early, And dawn coming late, And ice in the bucket And frost by the gate. The fires burn And the kettles sing, And earth sinks to rest Until next spring.

I say that almost everywhere there is beauty enough to fill a person's life if one would only be sensitive to it. but Henry says No: that broken beauty is only a torment, that one must have a whole beauty with man living in relation to it to have a rich civilization and art. . . . Is it because I am a woman that I accept what crumbs I may have, accept the hot-dog stands and amusement parks if I must, if the blue is bright beyond them and the sunset flushes the breasts of sea birds?

Love came in so many forms. We love for weakness or strength, she thought, for security or wildness, for money, or beauty, or sometimes for sadness. Whatever reason, the brain turned giddy with self-worth, and self-worth became indelibly linked to the one who was loved.