Artists are people who create beauty. That's the bottom line.
Would you believe that I once entered a beauty contest? I must have been out of my mind. I not only came in last, I got 361 get-well cards.
God took pattern after a pine tree and built you noble.
In naked beauty more adorn'd, More lovely than Pandora.
Despite everything, life is full of beauty and meaning.
Facials are my biggest beauty indulgence. Looking good is about having a good base. It's about taking care of your skin.
My message behind this album was finding the beauty in imperfection.
For the world is not painted, or adorned, but is from the beginning beautiful; and God has not made some beautiful things, but Beauty is the creator of the universe.
Tremendous beauty and tremendous ugliness puts you on the outside of things.
I sit in my garden, gazing upon a beauty that cannot gaze upon itself. And I find sufficient purpose for my day.
Garden writing is often very tame, a real waste when you think how opinionated, inquisitive, irreverent and lascivious gardeners themselves tend to be. Nobody talks much about the muscular limbs, dark,swollen buds, strip-tease trees and unholy beauty that have made us all slaves of the Goddess Flora.
Every expression of true beauty can be acknowledged as a path leading to an encounter with the Lord Jesus.
It is, finally, a word is untimely in three different senses, and bearing it as one's treasure will not win one anyone's favours; one rather risks finding oneself outside everyone's camp. . . Beauty is the word that shall be our first.
I see the beauty in boxing. It teaches me strength physically, but mostly mentally. I had to learn my strength, because for so long I could have been tougher than I was.
Of life's two chief prizes, beauty and truth, I found the first in a loving heart and the second in a laborer's hand.
Where once stood the steadfast pines, great, beautiful, sweet, my hand touched raw, moist stumps. All about lay broken branches, like the antlers of stricken deer. The fragrant, piled-up sawdust swirled and tumbled about me. An unreasoning resentment flashed through me at the ruthless destruction of the beauty that I love.
To how many girls has a great beauty been of no other use but to make them expect a large fortune!
There are girls, not specially beautiful, whom you could not lose in a crowd. There are other girls, apparently perfect in beauty, who seem to melt into insignificance.
I hate and fear 'science' because of my conviction that, for long to come if not for ever, it will be the remorseless enemy of mankind. I see it destroying all simplicity and gentleness of life, all the beauty of the world; I see it restoring barbarism under a mask of civilization; I see it darkening men's minds and hardening their hearts.
Beautiful? It's all a question of luck. I was born with good legs. As for the rest. . . beautiful, no. Amusing, yes.