Quotes on Beautiful

If you haven't cried, your eyes can't be beautiful.

I believe if you come out of a movie and the first thing you say is, 'The cinematography was beautiful,' it's a bad movie.

My family is big, complicated, and beautiful - and keeps me smiling and whole. It's so important to have family, whether it's biological family, good friends, foster families, or a group of aunties who are raising you. The idea of feeling isolated is scary to me - to walk through the world alone would be heartbreaking.

Hearing the sound of your breathing as you sleep,_x000D_ with the dog at your feet, his head resting_x000D_ on a shoe, and the clock's ticking_x000D_ like water dripping in a sink - I know that, even if reincarnation were a fact,_x000D_ given the inherent cruelty of the world_x000D_ where beautiful things and people_x000D_ are blasted apart all the day long,_x000D_ I would never want to come back, knowing_x000D_ I could never be this lucky twice.

I find it strangely beautiful that the camera with its inherent clarity of object and detail can produce images that in spite of themselves offer possibilities to be more than they are a photograph of nothing very important at all, nothing but an intuition, a response, a twitch from the photographer’s experience.

Suppose someone were to say: 'Imagine this butterfly exactly as it is, but ugly instead of beautiful'?!

This beginning motion, this first time when a sail truly filled and the boat took life and knifed across the lake under perfect control, this was so beautiful it stopped my breath.

My life wasn't beautiful and creative before I became politically active. My life was totally changed when I began to struggle.

It was a silence that heard itself, awful and beautiful.

I've spent so much time feeling ugly and being treated as ugly as a result. But I changed my attitude and said, “I’m beautiful because I love everybody as much as I can. I’m beautiful because I have wonderful friends. And I’m beautiful because I say I am. I’ve earned it, and I’m gonna be it.

Victory is the beautiful, bright-colored flower. Transport is the stem without which it could never have blossomed.

Lord, make us mindful of the little things that grow and blossom in these days to make the world beautiful for us.

For such, _x000D_ Being made beautiful overmuch, _x000D_ Consider beauty a sufficient end, _x000D_ Lose natural kindness and maybe _x000D_ The heart-revealing intimacy _x000D_ That chooses right, and never find a friend.

A beautiful woman risking everything for a mad passion. A few wild weeks of happiness cut short by a hideous, treacherous crime. Months of voiceless agony, and then a child born in pain. The mother snatched away by death, the boy left to solitude and the tyranny of an old and loveless man. Yes, it was an interesting background. It posed the lad, made him more perfect as it were. Behind every exquisite thing that existed, there was something tragic.

So we don't believe that life is beautiful because we don't recall it but if we get a whiff of a long-forgotten smell we are suddenly intoxicated and similarly we think we no longer love the dead because we don't remember them but if by chance we come across an old glove we burst into tears.

Life is - the way God has given it to me was just a platter - a golden platter of life laid out there for me. It's been beautiful.

Yet, he thought, if I can die saying, "Life is so beautiful," then nothing else is important. If i can believe in myself that much, nothing else matters.

You might get nothing out of it at all except a beautiful, long life where all you did was follow your gorgeous curiosity. And that should be enough too.

I wish to live because life has within it that which is good, that which is beautiful and that which is love. Therefore, since I have known all of these things, I have found them to be reason enough and - I wish to live. Moreover, because this is so, I wish others to live for generations and generations and generations.

It is godlike ever to think on something beautiful and on something new.

The fire was silent, the little houses collapsing into the flames without complaint, flocks of sparks rising to the sky. At a distance it seemed beautiful, and I thought it was strange that powerful violence is often so pleasing to the eye.