Quotes About Elegance

No guile. No artifice. No mischief. All that he had eliminated to achieve his perfection. No striving, no ambivalence, no doubleness—just the style, the natural physical refinement of a star.

A young panther in cufflinks and a pinstriped suit—a panther ready to pounce.

She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that's best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes:

Every woman has to have something which singles her out, which catches the eyes, which makes her the center of attention. I am going to be french.

If it has to be done at all, it must be done with grace.

Learning is an ornament to a good woman, not a distraction.

pure beauty, shining among the other girls

saddle, brushes down my gown, hands me my hat

No, you look like the beauty you are, and you know it. You have that gift, which our mother had, of growing older and becoming more lovely. Your features have changed from being merely those of a pretty girl to being those of a beautiful woman with a face like a carving. When you are laughing and dancing with Edward, you could pass for twenty, but when you are still and thoughtful, you are as lovely as the statues they are carving in Italy. No wonder women loathe you.

He liked Washington, the "subdued elegance" of Sixteenth Street and the extravagance of Massachusetts Avenue, the simplicity of the monuments, the lack of pretension.

What splendor nature proffered to the eye of any man who had half the wit to appreciate it!

Beauty of style and harmony and grace and good rhythm depend on simplicity

for philosophy, Socrates, if pursued in moderation and at the proper age, is an elegant accomplishment, but too much philosophy is the ruin of human life.

Harmony and grace depend on simplicity… the true simplicity of a rightly and nobly ordered mind and character.

Beauty is the splendour of truth

And somewhere in heaven, Versace sheds a single, perfect tear.

I'm still alive. And I'm still fabulous.

He looks perfectly stylish despite being in a motorized wheelchair.

The drapery was so thick and the furniture so cloaked that I half expected to find Sherlock Holmes thumb-wrestling with Jane Austen in the corner. It wasn't as dusty or smoky as one expects a parlor to be, but all the wood had the weight of card catalogs and the fabric seemed soaked in wine. Knee-high sculptures perched in corners and by the fireplace, while jacketless books crowded on shelves, peering down like old professors too tired to speak to one another.

She watched a serrated formation of brown pelicans slice the sky and leave no scar.

THREE BUTTERFLIES, AERIAL GEISHAS, DANCED out of the sunshine, into the porch shadows. Their silken kimonos flaring and folding and flaring in graceful swirls of color, as bashful as faces hidden behind the pleats of hand-painted fans, they fled, quick, into the brightness from which they had come.

She also chose snakeskin high-heeled platform shoes with ankle straps.

her jet-black hair and dark eyes and exquisite arrangement of features

Tiffany lamps and the Japanese gold-lacquer boxes that dated from the Taish? through the Heisei eras