The elms of New England! They are as much a part of her beauty as the columns of the Parthenon were the glory of its architecture.
Time can but make her beauty over again.
I love her beauty, but I fear her mind.
A women's greatest asset is her beauty.
And yet he had loved her. A Bookish girl heedless of her beauty, unconscious of her effect. She'd been prepared to live her life alone but from the moment he'd known her he'd needed her.
Among the Diaries beginning with the second quarter of our century, there is frequent mention of a lady then becoming famous for her beauty and her wit: "an unusual combination," in the deliberate syllables of one of the writers, who is, however, not disposed to personal irony when speaking of her.
The Victorian woman became her ovaries, as today's woman has become her "beauty.
Then there will come a time where, very quickly, a woman will lose what some call her beauty.
It has always been preferable to attribute a woman's success to her beauty rather than to her brains, to reduce her to the sum of her sex life.
Who loves not Knowledge? Who shall rail Against her beauty? May she mix With men and prosper! Who shall fix Her pillars? Let her work prevail.
Her beauty cannot be measured with standards of a colonized mind
If a pretty woman only knew how anger improved her beauty! Her complexion needs no other paint than indignation.
Like most good looking women, she was never sure of her beauty, and had to keep checking on it, to make sure it was still there.
Her beauty might fascinate men, but it was difficult to charm them when she stood mute. . . .
A woman beautiful facially can negate all her beauty by no longer being feminine.
And keep you in the rear of your affection, Out of the shot and danger of desire, The chariest maid is prodigal enough If she unmasks her beauty to the moon.
Let no man value at a little price A virtuous woman's counsel; her winged spirit Is feathered often times with heavenly words, And, like her beauty, ravishing and pure.
Show me a mistress that is passing fair, what doth her beauty serve but as a note where I may read who pass'd that passing fair?
But what happens when her beauty is torn from her like a cover from a book? Will he care to read her then, although her pages speak of nothing but love for him?
She was dazzling-- alight; it was agony to comprehend her beauty in a glance.