#beauty

It is well known that Beauty does not look with a good grace on the timid advances of Humour. ↗

— W. Somerset Maugham

#beauty #does #good #grace #humour

The beauty of a face is not a separate quality but a relation or proportion of qualities to each other. ↗

— George H. Mead

#each #face #other #proportion #qualities

Beauty is ever to the lonely mind a shadow fleeting; she is never plain. She is a visitor who leaves behind the gift of grief, the souvenir of pain. ↗

— Christopher Morley

#behind #ever #fleeting #gift #grief

Many attempts have been made by writers on art and poetry to define beauty in the abstract, to express it in the most general terms, to find some universal formula for it. ↗

— Walter Pater

#art #attempts #beauty #been #define

Beauty doesn't need ornaments. Softness can't bear the weight of ornaments. ↗

— Munshi Premchand

#bear #need #ornaments #softness #weight

The beauty of a strong, lasting commitment is often best understood by men incapable of it. ↗

— Murray Kempton

#beauty #best #commitment #incapable #lasting

I write for no other purpose than to add to the beauty that now belongs to me. I write a book for no other reason than to add three or four hundred acres to my magnificent estate. ↗

— Jack London

#add #beauty #belongs #book #estate

If in my youth I had realized that the sustaining splendour of beauty of with which I was in love would one day flood back into my heart, there to ignite a flame that would torture me without end, how gladly would I have put out the light in my eyes. ↗

— Michelangelo

#beauty #day #end #eyes #flame

It is dangerous for mortal beauty, or terrestrial virtue, to be examined by too strong a light. The torch of Truth shows much that we cannot, and all that we would not, see. ↗

— Samuel Johnson

#cannot #dangerous #examined #light #mortal

When you are old, at evening candle-lit beside the fire bending to your wool, read out my verse and murmur, "Ronsard writ this praise for me when I was beautiful." And not a maid but, at the sound of it, though nodding at the stitch on broidered stool, will start awake, and bless love's benefit whose long fidelities bring Time to school. I shall be thin and ghost beneath the earth by myrtle shade in quiet after pain, but you, a crone, will crouch beside the hearth mourning my love and all your proud disdain. And since what comes to-morrow who can say? Live, pluck the roses of the world to-day. ↗

— Pierre de Ronsard

#helene #love #beauty