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Read through the most famous quotes by topic #beauty
When we are passionately in love with our Prince, we put Him above all else--not just in theory, but also practically, in every moment of our day-to-day lives. We do not live for the applause of heaven. Our longings are not for people's approval but only for more and more of Him. We are marked by an effortless, unshakable strength that is found in the presence of our perfect Lover. ↗
I raised an eyebrow. "You know, you're really good at compliments. Actually, it's surprising that a person with charm like yours has any enemies." The words came out before I could stop them. At this rate I would never be able to ask him about Benjamin Gallow, and it didn't help that every time he looked at me I wanted to melt. "So, you think I'm charming?" Dante countered, mocking me. "Is that why you keep staring at me?" "Alarming, not charming. And no, I'm just curious. ↗
I stared at the charred remains. Only moments ago, I'd expected to die. Now my attacker was dead. I nearly reeled from how close I'd been to dying. Life and death were so unpredictible. So close to each other. We existed moment to moment, never knowing who would be the next to leave this world. I was still in it, barely, and as I looked up from the ashes, everything around me seemed so sweet and so beautiful. The trees. The stars. The moon. I was alive- and I was gladI was. I turned to Christian, who was crouched on the ground. "Wow," I said, helping him up. Obviously, he was the one who sabed me. "No shit," he said. "Didn't know I had that much power." He peered around, body riged and tense. "Are there more?" "No. ↗
I don't want to hear music, I don't want the sunrise to be pink. The world is a liar. Its ugliness is overwhelming; the scraps of beauty make it worse. ↗
The beauty that emerges from woundedness is a beauty infused with feeling; a beauty different from the beauty of landscape and the cold perfect form. This is a beauty that has suffered its way through the ache of desolation until the words or music emerged to equal the hunger and desperation at its heart. It must also be said that not all woundedness succeeds in finding its way through to beauty of form. Most woundedness remains hidden, lost inside forgotten silence. Indeed, in every life there is some wound that continues to weep secretly, even after years of attempted healing. Where woundedness can be refined into beauty a wonderful transfiguration takes place. ↗
Like a Falcon, she needed the dark to understand who her master was. She would learn to trust him, to rely upon him, to anticipate what he wanted from her. And like any master with his salt, he would reward her for her obedience. He would be exceedingly firm, but he would also be as fair as he could be. He had notchosen the instrument of his revenge at random. He had chosen a beautiful submissive. And what was a submissive if not adaptable -if not a survivor? ↗
