The making of gardens and parks goes on with civilization all over the world, and they increase both in size and number as their value is recognized. Everybody needs beauty as well as bread, places to play in and pray in, where Nature may heal and cheer and give strength to body and soul alike....

Mirror reflects your outer beauty; behaviour reflects your inner beauty.

That which is ordinary, is the most beautiful rare treasure you will thirst to find in the artificial world.

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

Whole life is a search for beauty. But, when the beauty is found inside, the search ends and a beautiful journey begins.

And I’m not going to get any thinner or any younger, my ass is going to hit the ground, if it hasn’t already–and I want to be with somebody who can still see me in here. I’m still in here. And I don’t want to be resented or despised for changing…I’d rather be alone.

The ugly may be beautiful, the pretty never.

There’s no beauty if there’s no imperfection

There is an art to writing, and it is not always disclosure. The act itself can be beautiful, revelatory, and private.

Beauty needs a witness.

You have a dedication to life and truth that burns out of you as beauty and I envy it so much I want to be around it for the rest of my life.

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

All Beyoncé and JLo have done is add to the laundry list of attributes women must have to qualify as beautiful.

Fine art refers to an accomplished or advanced skill being used to testify and reveal the knowledge, ability, and wisdom of the creator. There is no art more exquisite than the work of the Master Artist Himself. Even those who choose to deny Him credit for His own creation are often engaged as an admirer...

What we have loved, others will love, and we will teach them how; instruct them how the mind of man becomes a thousand times more beautiful than the earth on which he dwells…

All that really matters isto feel alive, if only for a single moment –to feel in Intense Sensationthat our existence is not an endless repetitionof sleeping, eating, drinking, and dressing.

Not at all. You look as though magic has taken hold of you. It must be magic because I don’t know how you can draw like that. I can barely manage a stick figure.

I walked with my eyes on the path, but out of the corners of them I saw a man hiding behind an olive tree. He did not move as we approached, but I fell that he was watching us. As soon as we had passed I heard a scamper. Wilson, like a hunted animal, had...

She can wear a veil, an eye mask, even a potato sack over her head – it doesn’t matter. True beauty never fades; it radiates the kind of glow, that makes you turn your head and look, same way you unconsciously look for the stars, when the night is dark.

To be beautiful, you have to see beauty

In the woodblock prints of the Genroku period one often finds the features of a pair of lovers to be surprisingly similar, with little to distinguish the man from the woman. The universal ideal of beauty in Greek sculpture likewise approaches a close resemblance between the male and female. Might this not be one of...

Kindly permit me to tell you, sir, that I hate you. I hate you and your child, as I hate the life of which you are the representative: cheap, ridiculous, but yet triumphant life, the everlasting antipodes and deadly enemy of beauty. I cannot say I despise you – for I am honest. You are...

You must go to bed with friends or whores, where money makes up the difference in beauty or desire.

The cat is beauty and the beast, a baffling blend, a wicked feast.For all who dream of varied light, the cat holds both the dark and bright.

What did beauty matter, anyway?

Dance,’ they told me, and I stood still,and while I stood quiet in line at the gate of the Kingdom, I danced.’Pray,’ they said, and I laughed,covering myself in the earth’s brightnesses,and then stole off gray into the midst of a revel,and prayed like an orphan.

Why is wisdom so fair? Why is beauty so wise?Because all else is temporary, while beauty and wisdom are the only real and constant aspects of truth that can be perceived by human means.And I don’t mean the kind of surface beauty that fades with age, or the sort of shallow wisdom that gets lost...

Life has this beautiful way of opening doors when you least expect it. How thy open is sometimes never known. But does that not only further justify the magic and the possibility to the thought, that there is more to life than that which meets thee eye.

Gene [Siskel] often mentioned something François Truffaut once told him: the most beautiful sight in a movie theater is to walk down to the front, turn around, and look at the light from the screen reflected on the upturned faces of the members of the audience.

Let me live my final days whole.Let my memory remain that I might know love’s face.Life don’t unwrap me to be fed to scavengers.I want to escape into light – not exist in darkness.

It is not your beauty, success or money that should define you; neither should your church calling, your charitable contributions or talents. Humility is the cornerstone of character, by which God judges our truth worth, and wisdom is the door he opens when we use it.

Have ye beheld (with much delight)A red rose peeping through a white?Or else a cherry (double graced)Within a lily? Centre placed?Or ever marked the pretty beamA strawberry shows half drowned in cream?Or seen rich rubies blushing throughA pure smooth pearl, and orient too?So like to this, nay all the rest,Is each neat niplet of her...

Houses, housetops, like human beings have wonderful character. The lives of housetops. The wear of the seasons. The country is beautiful, young, growing things. The majesty of trees. The backs of tenement houses are living documents.

Sometimes you have to look past a person’s mistakes to see God’s presence.

Grace will meet you in the valley, and her song will carry you home on the wind to another sky filled with ethereal beauty unfolding and love everlasting.

Swearing doesn’t make your argument valid; it just tells the other person you have lost your class and control.

Sometimes your light shines so bright that it blinds people from seeing who you really are.

Fie, fie upon her! There’s language in her eye, her cheek, her lip, Nay, her foot speaks; her wanton spirits look out at every joint and motive of her body.

The moral sense in mortals is the dutyWe have to pay on mortal sense of beauty.

Mental illness is not a fraternity or a social club for like minds. It is its own religion to each person that has it. Their mind is their pastor, their feelings are their scriptures and their delusions are their own bible story. To break them free, is to break their faith in signs. That is...

You were the poem I never knew how to write because no words could describe the wind you cannot see, but feel.

What is thy body but a swallowing grave,Seeming to bury that posterityWhich, by the rights of time, thou needs must haveIf thou destroy them not in dark obscurity?If so, the world will hold thee in disdain,Sith in thy pride so fair a hope is slain.

The lunatic, the lover, and the poetAre of imagination all compact:One sees more devils than vast hell can hold,That is, the madman: the lover, all as frantic,Sees Helen’s beauty in a brow of Egypt:The poet’s eye, in a fine frenzy rolling,Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven,And as imagination bodies forthThe forms...

Sonnet 65Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea But sad mortality o’ersways their power, How with this rage shall beauty hold a plea, Whose action is no stronger than a flower? O! how shall summer’s honey breath hold out Against the wrackful siege of battering days, When rocks impregnable are not so stout,...

From women’s eyes this doctrine I derive:They sparkle still the right Promethean fire;They are the books, the arts, the academes,That show, contain and nourish all the world.

Sonnet 130My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun;Coral is far more red than her lips’ red;If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.I have seen roses damask’d, red and white,But no such roses see I in her cheeks;And in some perfumes is there...

There’s a lot that is awful. That’s the struggle of getting old. To make sure you don’t let what’s hard…obscure the beauty.

O my love, my wife!Death, that hath suck’d the honey of thy breathHath had no power yet upon thy beauty.

I was thinking how you can’t tell if a person’s beautiful or not by her shadow…

Nothing lasts. Everything changes. But the changes are the same. Winter will always turn to spring.