Beauty Quotes - Page 49

Imagination is haunted by the swiftness of the creatures that live on the mountain - eagle and peregrine falcon, red deer and mountain hare. The reason for their swiftness is severely practical: food is so scarce up there that only those who can move swiftly over vast stretches of ground may hope to survive. The speed, the whorls and torrents of movement, are in plain fact the mountain's own necessity. But their grace is not necessity. Or if it is - if the swoop, the parabola, the arrow-flight of hooves and wings achieve their beauty by strict adherence to the needs of function - so much the more is the mountain's integrity vindicated. Beauty is not adventitious but essential.

I have often noticed that these things, which obsess me, neither bother nor impress other people even slightly. I am horribly apt to approach some innocent at a gathering, and like the ancient mariner, fix him with a wild, glitt’ring eye and say, “Do you know that in the head of the caterpillar of the ordinary goat moth there are two hundred twenty-eight separate muscles?” The poor wretch flees. I am not making chatter; I mean to change his life.

Many a man who falls in love with a dimple makes the mistake of marrying the whole girl.

Your level of consciousness defines the beauty of your life and destiny.

Beauty is not in complexity but it's in simplicity.

Little sister don't you worry about a thing todayTake the heat from the sunLittle sisterI know that everything is not okBut you're like honey on my tongueTrue love never can be rentBut only true love can keep beauty innocentI could never take a chanceOf losing love to find romanceIn the mysterious distanceBetween a man and a womanNo I could never take a chance'Cause I could never understandThe mysterious distanceBetween a man and a womanYou can run from loveAnd if it's really love it will find youCatch you by the heelBut you can't be numb for loveThe only pain is to feel nothing at allHow can I hurt when I'm holding you?I could never take a chanceOf losing love to find romanceIn the mysterious distanceBetween a man and a womanAnd you're the one, there's no-one elsewho makes me want to lose myselfIn the mysterious distanceBetween a man and a womanBrown eyed girl across the streetOn rue Saint DivineI thought this is the one for meBut she was already mineYou were already mine...Little sisterI've been sleeping in the street againLike a stray dogLittle sisterI've been trying to feel complete againBut you're gone and so is GodThe soul needs beauty for a soul mateWhen the soul wants...the soul waits ...No I could never take a chanceOf losing love to find romanceIn the mysterious distanceBetween a man and a womanFor love and FAITH AND SEX and fearAnd all the things that keep us hereIn the mysterious distanceBetween a man and a womanHow can I hurt when I'm holding you?

Once all the blocks were on the quad, Rowena grew obsessed with arranging them perfectly. I didn’t care at this point and busied myself texting a message to Sydney on the Love Phone, letting her know that my art was a paltry thing compared to the brilliance of her beauty. She texted back: This is me rolling my eyes. To which I replied: I love you too.

The Three of them were beautiful, in the way all girls of that age are beautiful. It can't be helped, that sort of beauty, nor can it be conserved; it's a freshness, a plumpness of the cells, that's unearned and temporary, and that nothing can replicate. None of them was satisfied with it, however; already they were making attempts to alter themselves into some impossible, imaginary mould, plucking and pencilling away at their faces. I didn't blame them, having done the same once myself.

Beauty depends on the unseen, the visible upon the invisible

I suppose the artists invented the firm breasts they put on women, and that in reality all women had flabby ones.

Growth is grace.

People run around looking for millions of likes in their life and on the social media but do you know what? If you get just one true like from just one who loves you the most, it surpasses all other millions. God loves you the most even without make over.

In matters of good-lookingness, we writers are the ugliest of the bunch, and normally our appearance is akin to that of someone investigating a crime scene; though the women in American writing keep producing world-class beauty in droves, and there are many breathtaking writers among them.

I spent all nightweaving a poem for you to wear. You look so beautifulwhen you wear my light.

There is great beauty in the world but you will not trip over it with every step. When a man dulls himself to beauty, the world begins to die.

Beauty is the brightness of being.

God, she looked like an angel from this angle as she sat in the sunlight that streamed in from a nearby open window. I was hoping with all my heart that what I was about to tell her, wouldn’t make this angel fall.

Perhaps the itinerant monks called ‘Gyrovagues’ were especially responsible for promoting this view of our condition as eternal strangers. They journeyed ceaselessly from monastery to monastery, without fixed abode, and they haven’t quite disappeared, even today: it seems there are still a handful tramping Mount Athos. They walk for their entire lives on narrow mountain paths, back and forth on a long repeated round, sleeping at nightfall wherever their feet have taken them; they spend their lives murmuring prayers on foot, walk all day without destination or goal, this way or that, taking branching paths at random, turning, returning, without going anywhere, illustrating through endless wandering their condition as permanent strangers in this profane world.

Who cares for your beauty if your heart and mind is ugly

I firmly believe that everyone deserves to live within walking distance of either beauty or convenience, if not both. (48)

Beauty is a behavior. As is ugliness.

All beauty, according to Lady Katchatka, had its origins in pain.

Forget the beauty, comfort, love and enjoyment. You must to be enough tough on yourself to be strong on others.

Beauty is startling. She wears a gold shawl in the summer and sells seven kinds of honey at the flea market. She is young and old at once, my daughter and my grandmother. In school she excelled in mathematics and poetry. . . Beauty will dance with anyone who is brave enough to ask her.

...women's bodies are "inferiorised, stigmatized . . . within an overarching patriarchal ideology.For example, biologically and physiologically, women's bodies are seen as both disgusting in their natural state and inferior to men's'' (2001, p. 141).

Keep your secrets. You're too young and beautiful not to have secrets.

There has to be beauty left in the world, Julia," said Kiyu. "Otherwise we have nothing.

...The sublime feeling is not mere pleasure as taste is – it is a mixture of pleasure and pain... Confronted with objects that are too big according to their magnitude or tooviolent according to their power, the mind experiences its own limitations.

Swim in the stream of beauty of love to reach the shores of life.

If we always livein constant fearthen we might missthe beauty of the momentright now, right here.

I always have many roads to travel, but I take the one which leads to you.

Teach a child to love his world deeply so that he may find the beauty and joy of life.

Everyone smiles in the same language, Happiness knows no frontiers, no age. No difference thar makes us feel apart if a smile can win even a broken heart.

Her skin smelled like the twilight moon and her eyes looked primal, like a hungry animal. She was darkness – dangerous, beautiful darkness.

I am happy to experience beauty of each season; spring time, summer, autumn and winter.

Only a few of us are going to be willing to break our own hearts by trading in the living beauty of imagination for the stark disappointment of words.

Focus your energy on the fragrance and beauty of the petals not on the thorns.

We have an obligation to make things beautiful, to not leave the world uglier than we found it.

Let’s be simple and calm,Like brooks and trees,And God will love us by makingBeautiful things like the trees and brooks for us,And give us greenness in his spring,And a river for us to go to when we end...

I've spent so much time feeling ugly and being treated as ugly as a result. But I changed my attitude and said, “I’m beautiful because I love everybody as much as I can. I’m beautiful because I have wonderful friends. And I’m beautiful because I say I am. I’ve earned it, and I’m gonna be it.

He loved hte curves on her body, her soft skin and pouty lower lip, her deep soulful eyes. He adored her voice; sometimes sultry, sometimes fiery. Her laugh, her playfulness... he adored it all. But what really turned him on were the curves in her mind, the twists and turns, the fire, the brilliance - and her compassionate heart; the beat of it harmonizing so sweetly and perfectly with the beat of his. The whole package was beyond thrilling... yet her mind, her heart, those were the immortal aphrodisiacs.

The dude feels right fatherly. Takes her down to the crick to wash the underground off of her. Just can't bring himself to shoot her while she's filthy and starving. There's time. Offers her a cake of French-milled soap he brought all the way out from Chicago. Smells like gardenias if you know your flowers, and the dude does. Snow White knows something's skewed but she grabs it, strips off like it's nothing and climbs in the water. She don't shiver even though that stream has to be as cold as a wagon tire. The miner's crud comes off her in black ribbons. The duded watches another girl come out of the blind mole-skin she was walking around it. This one has muscles like a mountain cat and a kind of pretty he doesn't know what to do with. For fairness he'd take her stepmother six days and twice on Sunday. The beauty Snow White's got has nothing to do with him. She's scarred up and suspicious an shameless. Her pretty's not for him. It's like saying the moon's got a fine figure on her. Maybe true, but what good is that to a man?

Butterflies are self propelled flowers.

The most pleasant and alluring curve on a woman is the smile

The remarkable thing about the world of insects, however, is precisely that there is no veil cast over these horrors. These are mysteries performed in broad daylight before our very eyes; we can see every detail, and yet they are still mysteries. If, as Heraclitus suggests, god, like an oracle, neither “declares nor hides, but sets forth by signs,” then clearly I had better be scrying the signs. The earth devotes an overwhelming proportion of its energy to these buzzings and leaps in the grass. Theirs is the biggest wedge of the pie: Why? I ought to keep a giant water bug in an aquarium on my dresser, so I can think about it.

If we could see the beauty and miracle of transformation that happens to us every second, we would never complain again.

The beauty of friendship is loyalty.

By the way, the other reason I agreed to help you is because I love your eyes. You have the most beautiful eyes. It's my weakness.

If you want a new look, get a new hair style.

In every change, in every falling leaf there is some pain, some beauty. And that's the way new leaves grow.

For too long, and despite what people told me, I had fallen for what the culture said about beauty, youth, features, heights, weights, hair textures, upper arms.

Pretty, was she?""Pretty?" he echoed. "Mister, when I see my first lady angel, if God ever sees fit to show me one, it'll be her wings and not her face that'll make my mouth fall open. I've already seen the prettiest face that ever could be.

And then I became aware of all the magnificent silk wrapped around my body, and had the feeling I might drown in beauty. At that moment, beauty itself struck me as a kind of painful melancholy.

Do not be victim of life-negative religions. Be respectful to life, love and beauty.

Beauty is the expression of passion of life.

I have my priorities and I know my purpose. I do not Praise God because of my pain but I praise Him because of what the pain is producing.

We still counted happiness and health and love and luck and beautiful children as "ordinary blessings.

That which is striking and beautiful is not always good but that which is good is always beautiful.

The noble buoyancy of her attitude, its suggestion of soaring grace, revealed the touch of poetry in her beauty that Selden always felt in her presence, yet lost the sense of when he was not with her. Its expression was now so vivid that for the first time he seemed to see before him the real Lily Bart, divested of all the trivialities of her little world, and catching for a moment a note of that eternal harmony of whichher beauty was a part.

Beauty is transformed over time, and not without destruction.