Best 11119 quotes in «beautiful quotes» category

[I]t is that we are too apt to despise what appears to be neither good nor beautiful, and thus we lose what is helpful and salutary.

It is the adventure and uncertainties of the journey that makes life so beautiful and interesting.

It is the kernel of truth in every story that makes its writing beautiful beyond standards.

It is the deepest of wrongs I am driven to write…. And losing you was one of them.

It is the reflection of my face. Often in these lost days I study it: I can understand nothing of this face. The faces of others have some sense, some direction. Not mine. I cannot even decide whether it is handsome or ugly. I think it is ugly because I have been told so. But it doesn't strike me. At heart, I am even shocked that anyone can attribute qualities of this kind to it, as if you called a clod of earth or a block of stone beautiful or ugly.

It made me so happy and so sad, but I mean that in a good way. That’s how I feel whenever I see something really beautiful. That’s how I know it’s beautiful.

I told you, you're my black pearl. When i first set eyes on you in the servant's hall I thought you were the most beautiful thing I had ever seen in my life.

I took a breath, seeing from across the room the rain on his eyelashes. A sudden need to brush them free filled me. I could almost feel the dampness of the rain on my fingers, how soft it would feel.

I try to do something positive – I socialise more… But deep down I know the truth. An entire world of people can never replace the one that I’ve lost.

It’s a beautiful day” – by which we meant that the weather was good. But we never say, “The weather’s good,” “The weather’s pleasant.” We say, “It’s a beautiful day,” “What a beautiful day.

It's a beautiful night to think about who I am in her eyes.

It's Also Tradition to Wear White,I Study Myself in The Mirror Now,as Annabelle Curls My Hair. My Dress is Strapless,Layers of ivory chiffon Floating to The Floor.a Necklace of Diamonds and Rubies Sparkles at My Throat Garnet Leans Against The Newel Post and Whistles As I Come Down The Stairs. My Cheeks Flush. Have You Been To The Royal Palace Yet? Garnet Asks Me.I Stare at Him for a Second Wondering if He's Joking. Yes, I Say Slowly. You Bumped Into Me at The Exetor's Ball. Did I? Garnet's Eyebrows Pinch Together. Huh Well,You Haven't Seen Anytging Until You've Seen The Winter Ball Decorations. We are Escorted to a Extension Made Entirely of Glass. It is Lit with Thousands of Candles. Giving The Room a Beautiful Golden Glow. The Floor is Made Out Of Blue Glass and Enormous Ice Sculptures Glitter in The Flickering Light. I See What Garnet Meant-The Whole Effect is Magnificent.

Its amazing to contemplate what human mind is capable of, incredible functionality, specialty of describing something beautifully without even experiencing called the work of imagination, carries us to a world we have never been before.

It's as if, from the vantage point of a verandah bed, that great expanse of sky rolls in over us from the very edge of existence.

It's been an ugly day! Tell me something beautiful," she requested. And he told her, her name.

It's beautiful when you realise how kind, tender, warm and big-hearted a person is that has suffered too much for their own good.

It's easy to look at people and make quick judgements about them, their present and their pasts, but you'd be amazed at the pain and tears a single smile hides. what a person shows to the world is only one tiny facet of the iceburg hidden from sight. And more often then not, it's lined with cracks and scars that go all the way to the foundation of their soul.

It's easy to make women happier and busier. How? Buy her a talking mirror beside bitching it has to be programmed to say, "You are looking very beautiful and slimmer," at precisely every hour.

It's excellence in leadership when everyone wants to manufacture a black shoe and you manufacture a designer black shoe with gold medal on top. Do something new; do something better!

It seems like everyone these days is putting on a mask to feel beautiful, trying to fit into some pre-established norms of how we should look. This isn’t only painful, it’s ignorant. Saying like we know, better than nature does, what is beautiful and what is not is like a two-year-old lecturing an old man about patience. Nature’s been creating beauty for millennia and you are part of that creation process. Stop the madness. Stop fighting who you are. Let the mask fall. It’ll be strange at first, yes. But, over time, you’ll see beyond the temporary discomfort of stepping outside social norms and learn to see the beauty you were born with, the beauty you’ve been taught to ignore and cover up. You’ll see beauty that will take your breath away, like a sunset. That’s how beautiful you are—like a sunset, like a forest, like a million fireflies on a calm warm night lighting up the sky. You are made by nature. Nature is wiser in the ways of beauty than cosmetics companies or magazines. Break the spell. Gain back your sanity. Go find that brilliant beauty within every single part of you. Go find the universe in your eyes. Remove that cloak that’s been pulled over your eyes and see yourself for who you really are.

It’s funny how we say a person ‘made’ us when they actually broke us. Sort of like how I say ‘funny’... but I actually mean sad.

It's funny how the ugly duckling always has so many beautiful things to teach us.

It’s just never going to get any easier is it. It’s never going away, this missing you. It’s going to become a sadness I incorporate into myself – along with all the other sadnesses – and quietly carry around with me forever…

It's not perfection that makes you beautiful, It's your imperfections

It's okay to be an introvert. The unknown and the quiet are beautiful.

It’s painful, loving someone from afar. Watching them – from the outside. The once familiar elements of their life reduced to nothing more than occasional mentions in conversations and faces changing in photographs….. They exist to you now as nothing more than living proof that something can still hurt you … with no contact at all.

It's not the substance of what you make known to me that's beautiful; it's the opening of your heart. It is the 'yes' in your heart to be mine. The fact that you are revealing the secrets and letting me peer into your heart--that is in itself the beautiful part.

It's ok to not like yourself sometimes, it just means there's something in you that needs "fixing". Love yourself to recognize these parts of you and watch yourself grow beautifully into the person you were meant to be.

It’s so easy to lose faith and become lost in all of the politics of the world. That’s why we need the arts. To sublimate our frustration and anger into something beautiful. Freud called sublimation a virtuous defence mechanism because it is in the arts that we can find our humanity.

It’s the intricate details you miss the most. For me, it’s the soft lines around the eyes when he smiles… Or that look he gave me sometimes that I cannot begin to describe - but I would know it if I saw it again. It was the look that gave him away. I’d know that look anywhere… It used to be my everything.

It's the Joshua tree's struggle that gives it its beauty.

It's the in-between, the sustenance, not just the gears and bolts that make a human. When you forget to find out how the person was built—the oil, chemistry, and the craft—you miss all the beauty.

It’s times like this…. when it’s over a year later and I’m still crying over you that I want to turn to you and say: See…. This is why I asked you never to kiss me.

It struck him that there is a beautiful symmetry to life.

It’s weird like, you can see the cruelest part of the world. The cruelest part. But then on the other side you see the most beautiful part, do you know? And it’s like you go from one extreme to the next and they’re both worth it, because you wouldn’t see one without the other. But that cruel part, is damn cruel and you’ll never forget it. But that heaven…is heaven.

It takes a deep and abiding love for yourself to have the patience to wait for the companion who is mentally healthy enough to see the beauty in your heart. No filters required.

It sucks to be broken and pretend that it's a beautiful version of yourself.

It was a clear, black morning, encrusted with stars.

I turn my face to the window as the train starts to move. Charles suggested I take the car, but I prefer this strange elevated route out of town, the rooftop tour of south London as the carriages rattle between spires and old smokestacks and the tips of poplars; the sudden glimpses into school playgrounds and street markets and quiet litter-strewn alleys, narrow avenues of blackened brick. Little by little the city falls away, like something giving up, and then the acoustics of the carriage change, and we're out in the open: meadows riven with streams, the fast blue shadows of clouds on the hills.

It was a December night so cold and clear that the air felt like the air of the Moon - lung-burning; mentholated and pure

It was hope, dying unsurprised.

It was a very ordinary day, the day I realised that my becoming is my life and my home and that I don't have to do anything but trust the process, trust my story and enjoy the journey. It doesn't really matter who I've become by the finish line, the important things are the changes from this morning to when I fall asleep again, and how they happened, and who they happened with. An hour watching the stars, a coffee in the morning with someone beautiful, intelligent conversations at 5am while sharing the last cigarette. Taking trains to nowhere, walking hand in hand through foreign cities with someone you love. Oceans and poetry. It was all very ordinary until my identity appeared, until my body and mind became one being. The day I saw the flowers and learned how to turn my daily struggles into the most extraordinary moments. Moments worth writing about. For so long I let my life slip through my fingers, like water. I'm holding on to it now, and I'm not letting go.

It was many and many a year ago, In a kingdom by the sea, That a maiden there lived whom you may know By the name of ANNABEL LEE; And this maiden she lived with no other thought Than to love and be loved by me. I was a child and she was a child, In this kingdom by the sea; But we loved with a love that was more than love- I and my Annabel Lee; With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven Coveted her and me. And this was the reason that, long ago, In this kingdom by the sea, A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling My beautiful Annabel Lee; So that her highborn kinsman came And bore her away from me, To shut her up in a sepulchre In this kingdom by the sea. The angels, not half so happy in heaven, Went envying her and me- Yes!- that was the reason (as all men know, In this kingdom by the sea) That the wind came out of the cloud by night, Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee. But our love it was stronger by far than the love Of those who were older than we- Of many far wiser than we- And neither the angels in heaven above, Nor the demons down under the sea, Can ever dissever my soul from the soul Of the beautiful Annabel Lee. For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side Of my darling- my darling- my life and my bride, In the sepulchre there by the sea, In her tomb by the sounding sea.

It was long past midnight. Laura's music played on. It was composed in the language of stars, tinkling in a crystal pool suspended from constellations. She used chimes now and then, the chimes that characterized every patio in Arizona, the piano, the trees combed by wind. A prelude to a storm. It was like discovering the secret room in a dream of your house that holds all the magic. It was music I wished I lived inside. Around us, cactus, hills filled with jumping cholla, the heat of August like another animal heaving over us.

It was quite a beautiful thing, the way we simply just came to be, with no effort or trying and slowly we found each other’s hands in the dark. No chains or promises, just a simple sign of hope that things will go on and get better and that things and people and views are still out there, yet to be found.

I’ve met plenty of beautiful people but I honestly can’t tell you what they look like.

I’ve always been a sucker for the beautiful and the batshit.

I’ve created the most beautiful things out of my sadness.

It will not always be easy, but it will always be beautiful.

I used to be lost in us. Blurred were the lines that separated us. But now, I see our togetherness in our separateness. I see the you in me and the me in you. We are two independent beings who complement one another like photographs that are beautiful on their own but are enhanced when juxtaposed, creating an altogether new photograph.