#beauty

...I remember the oily smoke of a cigarette suspended in a shaft of sunlight - with you, everything was beautiful... ↗

— John Geddes

#cigarette #shaft #smoke #sunlight #beauty

Life is as beautiful, as you want to see it. ↗

— Anthony Liccione

#life #one-s-perception #beauty

But as she continued and finished her tale, I could tell that her heart was elsewhere, and when she excused herself to go to bed, she left without saying good night. After that, the princesses in her stories were always beautiful. Always. ↗

— Kelly Barnhill

#fairy-tales #princesses #storytelling #beauty

How many others are out there? How many other lives are hidden, and hearts are seeking? How many would give anything in the world to be held by the person they love? ↗

— Rachel Simon

#love #beauty

When you walk in a beautiful road, you must know that you are walking on a miracle: The miracle of evolution! ↗

— Mehmet Murat ildan

#beauty

The first impression of the writings of Mr. J. J. Rousseau received by a knowledgeable reader, who is reading for something more than vanity or to kill time, is that he is encountering a lucidity of mind, a noble impulse of genius and a sensitive soul of such a high level that perhaps never an author of whatever epoch or of whatever people has been able to possess in combination. The impression that immediately follows is bewilderment over the strange and contradictory opinions, which so oppose those which are in general circulation that one can easily come to the suspicion that the author, by virtue of his extraordinary talent, wishes to show off only the force of his bewitching wit and through the magic of rhetoric make himself something apart who through captivating novelties stands out among all rivals at wit. ↗

— Immanuel Kant

#beauty

Asking a question simply implies that you already know the answer. However, the question that you are asking may simply be an illusion. The beauty of the answer truly blooms, when you ask the right question. ↗

— Lionel Suggs

#beauty

I saw the great sparkling orbs of his eyes, the tiny red veins that reached for the dark centers, that warm hand burning my cold hunger as he guided me to a chair. And then all around me I saw faces blazing, faces rising in the smoke of the lamps, in the shimmer of the burning stove, a wonderland of colors on canvases surrounding us beneath the small, sloped roof, a blaze of beauty that pulsed and throbbed. ↗

— Anne Rice

#beauty

Her black is beautiful, his society is ugly. ↗

— Habeeb Akande

#black-is-beautiful #society #beauty

Lillian moved forward to meet her, studying her with curiosity. They had met before, on infrequent occasions, and she found it strange to see Dagny Taggart wearing an evening gown. It was a black dress with a bodice that fell as a cape over one arm and shoulder, leaving the other bare: the naked shoulder was the gown’s only ornament. Seeing her in the suits she wore, one never thought of dagny taggart’s body. The black dress seemed excessively revealing – because it was astonishing to discover that the lines of her shoulder were fragile and beautiful, and that the diamond band on the wrist of her naked arm gave her the most feminine of all aspects: the look of being chained. ↗

— Ayn Rand

#beauty