Best 11119 quotes in «beautiful quotes» category

Hummingbird Flitting, darting A restless quest To fuel a fire That burns your breast Seeking sweetness For selfish glee Bringing gifts So heedlessly Your touch a trigger You fire life Igniting beauty In vibrant strife To equal you In colors bright They dazzle, dumbfound And delight But in tableau Their beauty ends Enlivened only By the wind Whilst you with Generous energy Prove a lovely Vibrant Persephone Their season ends Those blooms of spring And hummingbird On fragile wing Too soon I fear You will expire Sweetness smolders Consumed in fire.

Aleksei with his impossible curls so very like her own, yet less seemly perhaps. Such hair is somewhat fairy-tale in a man. Poetic.

I always wish there was a portal to an unknown and unseen place from my home and yours too. Where the time would always stay froze and nothing changes ever. Where no other human exists except us and everything is utterly beautiful. Where we can say forever and really mean it and live it every single day.

I am a lover of words and tragically beautiful things, poor timing and longing, and all things with soul, and I wonder if that means I am entirely broken, or if those are the things that have been keeping me whole.

I am as silent as death. Do this: Go to your bedroom. Your nice, safe, warm bedroom that is not a glass coffin behind a morgue door. Lie down on your bed not made of ice. Stick your fingers in your ears. Do you hear that? The pulse of life from your heart, the slow in-and-out from your lungs? Even when you are silent, even when you block out all noise, your body is still a cacophony of life. Mine is not. It is the silence that drives me mad. The silence that drives the nightmares to me. Because what if I am dead? How can someone without a beating heart, without breathing lungs live like I do? I must be dead. And this is my greatest fear: After 301 years, when they pull my glass coffin from this morgue, and they let my body thaw like chicken meat on the kitchen counter, I will be just like I am now. I will spend all of eternity trapped in my dead body. There is nothing beyond this. I will be locked within myself forever. And I want to scream. I want to throw open my eyes wake up and not be alone with myself anymore, but I can't. I can't.

I am all for science, but science can never tell us why we find the stars so beautiful.

I am beautiful because the kindness of my heart is beautiful. I am strong because my strength is my self-confidence. I am courageous because my knowledge has made me fearless.

I am clumsy, drop glasses and get drunk on Monday afternoons. I read Seneca and can recite Shakespeare by heart, but I mess up the laundry, don’t answer my phone and blame the world when something goes wrong. I think I have a dream, but most of the days I’m still sleeping. The grass is cut. It smells like strawberries. Today I finished four books and cleaned my drawers. Do you believe in a God? Can I tell you about Icarus? How he flew too close to the sun? I want to make coming home your favourite part of the day. I want to leave tiny little words lingering in your mind, on nights when you’re far away and can’t sleep. I want to make everything around us beautiful; make small things mean a little more. Make you feel a little more. A little better, a little lighter. The coffee is warm, this cup is yours. I want to be someone you can’t live without. I want to be someone you can’t live without.

I am beautiful soul with beautiful mind and beautiful body.

I am blessed. I am beautiful. I am great.

I am certain of his existence for he who created such a beautiful world wouldn't leave it unattended, let alone trust us to take care of it.

I am dying: it's a beautiful word. Like the long slow sigh of a cello: dying. But the sound of it is the only beautiful thing about it.

I am in awe of flowers. Not because of their colors, but because even though they have dirt in their roots, they still grow. They still bloom.

I am graceful, joyful and wonderful.

I am not a finished poem, and I am not the song you’ve turned me into. I am a detached human being, making my way in a world that is constantly trying to push me aside, and you who send me letters and emails and beautiful gifts wouldn’t even recognise me if you saw me walking down the street where I live tomorrow for I am not a poem. I am tired and worn out and the eyes you would see would not be painted or inspired but empty and weary from drinking too much at all times and I am not the life of your party who sings and has glorious words to speak for I don’t speak much at all and my voice is raspy and unsteady from unhealthy living and not much sleep and I only use it when I sing and I always sing too much or not at all and never when people are around because they expect poems and symphonies and I am not a poem but an elegy at my best but unedited and uncut and not a lot of people want to work with me because there’s only so much you can do with an audio take, with the plug-ins and EQs and I was born distorted, disordered, and I’m pretty fine with that, but others are not.

I am sixteen when my mother steps out of her skin one frozen January afternoon- pure self, atoms twinkling like microscopic diamond chips around her, perhaps the chiming of a clock, or a few bright flute notes in the distance- and disappears. No one sees her leave, but she is gone.

I am surely a creature. For what human has two hearts? But I have two hearts— one is always broken; the other is always whole.

I am wonderful creation of God.

I am wonderful. I am beautiful.

...and the hermit's spirit detaches itself, ever so gently, and begins its lonely passage upward, to find its final resting place among the stars.

I call you domina because that’s what you are,” Samuel insisted. “It’s what I was. Now I’m just Brie. What if I only called you pathfinder?

I cannot imagine a truly beautiful world without courtesy being integral to its culture.

I can sense your love, why leave me in darkness? Beguile me for your amusement, stealing my soul without kisses. You are the sun and I, the moon. Your beauty is reflected in my eyes. When we are apart, I am extinguished in the blackness of these skies.

I can’t believe that you, a grown woman taller than me and beautiful enough to make my heart ache, will be the same girl I used to lift off the ground so you could reach the drinking fountain, the same girl who used to trundle out of my bedroom draped in a dress and hat and four scarves from my closet.

I can sit here and say I've survived heart break and all those nights I thought I couldn't bare to live without you, yeah I just want to thank them, because I did & now I couldn't imagine a life with you.

I create beautiful art, so I can look back on the life my body fell short of in such a way that it brings me peace.

I couldn't help but suspect something he'd seen or encountered had changed his view of what had happened between them. It had somehow set him free. And he'd let it fly, that gorgeous blackbird of a love he'd been keeping in a cage. What was it like for him, every day standing outside in the wind and rain to stare at the ocean, yearning for some sign of her, never giving up hope? At The Peak perhaps she'd finally come into view, a ship coming neither toward him nor away, only riding that perfect line between heaven and earth, long enough for him to know that she had loved him, that what they had was real, before slipping out of sight, probably forever.

I could fall in love with you and have no regrets... I want you so bad. You’ll never understand how much.

I’d do it all over again, knowing that you were going to be there at the end. I’d walk through the sadness and the loneliness all over again for you.

I curse you, Hauk… may you live to raise a beautiful daughter. And I hope you have more than one, you son of a bitch.

I didn’t love you to seek revenge. I didn’t love you out of loneliness or unhappiness. I didn’t love you for any of the misguided reasons that time might convince you I did. I just loved you because you’re you.

I do, and the now-familiar warmth of his lips steadies me. He tastes of salt and the wine we shared with the others at our small farewell party. Aladdin pulls away first and lifts one of my hands to his lips, kissing the delicate henna patterns on my skin, then turning my arm over to kiss the inside of my wrist. The ship’s crew makes themselves busy on the other side of the ship, giving us privacy. “You’re the most beautiful girl in the world,” Aladdin murmurs. “Have I ever told you that?” “Enough to make me wonder if your father was a parrot.

I'd like to make a twosome with two handsome trees. Make that a threesome as I'd also include a bush in the package, to keep it low profile.

I’d never dreamed anybody could love me the way he did. And even when he proved it to me time and again – I still could hardly believe it was true.

I don’t have any fancy story, about the way we fell in love. It was that one awkward move, and the next I remember, I was looking at you. I don’t have any fancy allegory, about how we decided to marry, It was over the deck of that cruise, that you made an awkward move, And the next I remember, I conceived in your eye, some purer truth, and I was looking at you. I don’t have any fancy history, about how I know you so deeply, It always was that one awkward move, which I have trusted to pursue. Who said lovers are complex? All you need is their, one awkward move. Their soul in an instant, is engulfed, In that one tick of drool. That’s all what love is, that one awkward move, which is only meant only for you.

I don't want to be a vampire' she told herself. But in her dreams, she kind of did.

I don't know. What if I don't want to and you do?" " I just want you and us, baby. And when the time is right, and this hospital room isn't that time, I'll ask you to marry me properly and then take you pyramid hunting all over the world. You and me, baby. That's what I want.

I don't love you just because you have a beautiful face; I love you more because your heart is adorable

I don't want to die. I deserve, certainly, the most extreme punishment society has, and I think society deserves to be protected from me and from others like me. That's the irony. What I'm talking about is going beyond retribution because there is no way in the world that killing me is going to restore those beautiful children to their parents and correct and soothe the pain.

I enjoy looking at beautiful people, and I decided a while ago not to deny myself the simpler pleasures of existence.

I don’t think you ever really understood…. …. All the love I had in the world went to you.

I do what I do because I love God, as I love your children, as I love humanity, as I love peace, truth, and justice for all. I may not be a fan of religion, but I am a big fan of God. I choose not to subscribe to any one religion because I recognize truths in them all — both the truths and flaws. For anybody to believe that any father would want to see his children fighting is madness. It does not make the Creator happy to see anybody massacre any of his beautiful creations. If you must know the religion I choose, I choose LOVE. If you must know the name of my god, his name is Truth, or rather 'He Who is One, The One Who is All.

If chaos is a masterpiece, Then you should see my heart. If battle scars are beautiful, Then I'm a work of art.

If beauty is pain — let me get lost in it. If you’re my salvation — I want to earn it. If love is all I have to give — then let me give it. You. It’s all for you.” Gabe’s eyes opened and locked in on mine. “How can I prove that what I feel is real? You ask for truth I give you lies. You ask for joy I make you cry. But I don’t want to lose you. Not like this. Not when I’ve left your heart in such a mess. Give me one chance — I’m letting go of the past — but I need you here to know.” “If beauty is pain — let me get lost in it. If you’re my salvation — I want to earn it. If love is all I have to give — then let me give it. You, it’s all for you.” He paused, hitting the last few notes, and the song ended. Gabe’s smile lit up the room. But I was frozen in place. Me. He’d sung that to me.

I finally believed it was actually a beautiful thing to be unique and to be different.

I feel naturally florid when I look up again. I look like a flourish. I look the way the word galore feels. I feel uncultivated beautiful, like pure, organic allure.

I fell in love with you like the stars fell in love with the sky, without you I am empty and bare.

I felt a warm hand touch my forehead. And then my cheek. I held my act steady though Akinli’s touch made me feel more than awake. “Where in the world did you come from, you beautiful, silent girl?” he whispered.

If I was asked to write a poem about her. Every word I use would end up, being her name. And it would still sound so beautiful and breathtaking to me in the end.

I follow Plato only with my mind Pure beauty strikes me as a little thin A little cold, however beautiful. I am in love with what is mixed and impure Doubtful, dark and hard to disencumber I want beauty I must dig for, search for. Pure beauty is beginning and not end Begin with the sun and drop from sun to cloud From cloud to tree, and from tree to earth itself And deeper yet to the earth dark root. I am in love with what resists my loving With what I have to labor to make live.