Best 5193 quotes in «beauty quotes» category

But what can you do with another person's beauty? The satisfied lover is as little able to possess the beauty of his beloved as the one who hopelessly observes it from afar.

But undying memories stood like sentinels in her breast. When the notes of doves, calling to each other, fell on her ear, her eyes sought the sky, and she heard a voice saying, "Majella!

But when physical appearance evades the scrutiny of our senses and enters the sanctuary of our hearts, then it can forget itself. I know, from my childhood's experience, how devotion is beauty itself, in its inner aspect.

But when you live in beauty and look from beauty, everything points in different ways to your wholeness.

Why We Tell Stories I Because we used to have leaves and on damp days our muscles feel a tug, painful now, from when roots pulled us into the ground and because our children believe they can fly, an instinct retained from when the bones in our arms were shaped like zithers and broke neatly under their feathers and because before we had lungs we knew how far it was to the bottom as we floated open-eyed like painted scarves through the scenery of dreams, and because we awakened and learned to speak

But who can quantify the algebra of space, or weigh those worlds that swim each in its place? Who can outdo the dark? And what computer knows how beauty comes to birth - shell star and rose? -Technicians by Jean Kenward

What is Required by Paul Allen (fragment) 1 All elsewhere being World, how many times have I stood in the bright shadows of a wood, no track or trail leading in, out- as though ground cover renewed as I went through? I sometimes own the moments where I stand alone. Everything else is air and arbitrary firings of neurons we call memory if they happened, fantasy if they didn’t- same pictures. Call it prayer, then, the moments where I’m not aware even of how lovely the moment is- not liking, not disliking- not aware there is a moment until I’m back in the world and remember it- construct it in my mind as having been beautiful. 4 I’m too often bitten by silence. My mother called it dawdling, the ex, brooding. My students call it absent-minded professor. The kindest students bring me back gently. But I live most when silence, shade, and light like this harvest me, a kind of prayer I’m gathered to, not the prayer I clutter with will or words.

By all of your beauty I am so inspired. Your love has baptized me by fire.

By day it is filled with boat traffic - water buses, delivery boats, gondolas - if something floats and it's in Venice, it moves along the Grand Canal. And by daylight it is one of the glories of the Earth. But at night, especially when the moon is full and the soft illumination reflects off the water and onto the palaces - I don't know how to describe it so I won't, but if you died and in your will you asked for your ashes to be spread gently on the Grand Canal at midnight with a full moon, everyone would know this about you - you loved and understood beauty.

By seeing the beauty of nature you touch the eternity within you.

By taking good care of your posture now, you will enjoy and savor lifelong health benefits and beauty.

By means of poetry all this suffering and effort could be transformed into dream; no matter how much of the ephemeral existed, poetry could immortalize it by turning it into song. Only two or three primitive passions had governed me until this time: fear, the struggle to conquer fear, and the yearning for freedom. But now two new passions were kindled inside me: beauty and the thirst for learning.

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.

Calli doesn't mean that you'll never see anyone as beautiful. When you see a smile that's genuine, you'll see beauty. When you see an act of courage or generosity, you'll see beauty. Most of all, when you look at someone you love, you'll see beauty. All calli does is keep you from being distracted by surfaces. True beauty is what you see with the eyes of love, and that's something that nothing can obscure.

Came they, in their droves, one after the other, hundred after hundred, thousand after thousand, engulfing all before them, each line a merciless wave from a boundless sea of bold men.

Can it be that there is not enough space for man in this beautiful world, under those immeasurable, starry heavens? Is it possible that man's heart can harbour, amid such ravishing natural beauty, feelings of hatred, vengeance, or the desire to destroy his fellows? All the evil in man, one would think, should disappear on contact with Nature, the most spontaneous expression of beauty and goodness.

Cal opens a drawer, pulls out a sketch pad and charcoal and sets them down on a drafting table. 'Let's draw.' I smile the way I did as a child when receiving a fresh box of 64 Crayola crayons, unabashedly showing all my teeth. I remember how much I used to love to draw, and I wonder why I don't do it anymore. I write, I guess. I draw with words, but when I see Cal's pad and charcoal, I'm overwhelmed with the feeling that it's not the same. I use my words, my artist's charcoal to describe what I'm thinking. He draws with an imperfect fluidity, pausing only occasionally to shade the drawing with his thumb or brush the paper with the back of his hands. He listens and nods and doesn't interrupt. And when I'm done speaking he looks at the drawing, and his eyes get really big. Slowly, he turns his pad around for me to see. My heart stops and then starts. 'Yes,' I say. It's perfect. Alive with added detail and beautiful Inuit soulfulness I couldn't have even imagined sitting outside in my car. My fear is gone. There's a tingling in my skin, like I can feel the thousand needle pricks to come. I am alive.

Calliope leaned forward on the vanity, which was littered with gleaming silver beauty wands and powders and a fresh manicolor mitt—all of it arrayed carefully before her, like weapons polished and laid out for battle. Her own lethal tools, which had always made her so dangerously beautiful.

Can human folly harbour a more arrogant or ungrateful thought than the notion that whereas God makes man beautiful in body, man makes himself pure in heart?

Cannot a Beast be tamed?

Can the beautiful be sad? Is beauty inseparable from the ephemeral and hence from mourning? Or else is the beautiful object the one that tirelessly returns following destructions and wars in order to bear witness that there is survival after death, that immortality is possible?

Caroline had felt more comfortable thinking of beauty as something separate from her, like a scarf or a coat you could check before going in to a show. She wondered now, however, if she had treated more things as a part of herself rather than an accessory, perhaps everything would have turned out differently.

Carrying confidence isn't being the person everyone likes, it's being yourself, regardless of who likes you.

Captured by the ideological animus, both socialist and liberal-democratic art abandoned the criterion of beauty - considered anachronistic and of dubious political value - and replaced it with the criterion of correctness.

Cela s'est passé. Je sais aujourd'hui saluer la beauté.

cewek itu diciptakan dari tulang rusuk cowok, dekat dgn hatinya agar dicintai bkn khianati, dekat dgn tangannya agar dilindungi bkn disakiti

Change can be beautiful; butterflies are the greatest proof of this.

Change is inevitable. Progression is a choice. We all move, but are you going to move forward?

Change isn't always for the worst; the shell that forms around a piece of sand looks to some people like an irritation, and to others, like a pearl.

Chaos is nothing more than beauty about to dance.

Character. Intelligence. Strength. Style. That makes beauty.

Character is your beauty; style is your strength.

Cheap food always requires expensive treatment.

Cheating is an innate evolutionarily programmed desire, especially in men, but it is not a desire that cannot be controlled.

Charm is deceptive, Wise is sly, having talent is impressive and that puzzles you why. I, but not you, know the mask that I wear. Like how a master knows its masterpiece which is unknown to the world.

Cherish the beauty and cherish the pain, both will give you experience and you will never be the same

Children see God every day; they just don't call it that. It's the summer sky painted with cumulus clouds by day and sequined with a million stars by night. It's the sweet whispers of sweet gum trees and the sounds riding the tops of honeysuckle-scented breezes. Children feel God stuffed into brown fluffy dogs with stitches strong enough to withstand a good squeeze, and on the lips of round women who can't get enough sugar from Chocolate. I began to believe that God is us and nature, beauty and love, mystery and majesty, everything right and good.

Children can see the beatitudes in nature.

Christianity is not for seasonal use, it is for daily use. Make the word of God your daily Language.

Christians we cannot be allowed to be fractured at a time like this. There are more of us, there are more of light in us than in the agents of darkness.

Christianity is the only religion that weaves trees from one end of its sacred text to the other. Every important character and every major event has a tree marking the spot. There is a tree in the first and last chapter of the Bible, in the first psalm, and in the first gospel.

Choosing a life of being on my own does now make me strange, crazy or unlovable, it just means that I am happy to be me, mind intact and sailing rather than walking now through this life in a glorious over sized vessel that is my beautiful aging body

Choosing beauty and love does not mean being uninformed or weak; it means you clearly see the ugliness, but choose love anyway.

Cinderella had to dress up so that the Prince could see her inner beauty.

Clearly my stunning beauty has clouded your mind." - Rose Hathaway

Christians believe in a big God but do small things and this is a big insult to God.

Clara didn’t know what to say, but she also knew not every silence had to be filled. Sometimes the white spots, those left undyed and natural, were integral to the beauty of a colorway.

Clara smoked in the shallow pool as Lana del Rey poured from her phone. She shaded her eyes. She liked the shallow pool because she could lay out, half in the sun, half in the water, and not get her hair wet. She had black eyeliner smeared under her eyes from who-knows-when, and while she never bothered to fix it, she did apply more, so she looked permanently hung over. She liked that.

Clothing and features fade with time. I am happy with who I am today, and I am happy with who I will be tomorrow.

Come into my world. I will show you the phenomenon that Stendhal experienced. I will help you feel the cascading arpeggios of Wagner's overture. I will dance to Doga’s waltzes with you. A day spent without appreciating the beauty surrounding us is a waste. Let me appreciate you