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Beauty Quotes

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Beauty Quotes

“A man who trusts himself comes to know the beauty of that the more you trust yourself, the more you bloom. The more you are silent, calm and cool. And the more he trusts, the more he will trust life. The more you trust, the more you can relax into your being. You know that you are cherished by the Whole. The Whole is breathing and pulsating in you. When you start feeling this love and trust of the Whole, you start to grow roots in your being.”

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Book:The Call of the Heart
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“If we know that we are deeply and completely loved by Life then we will know how to let it flow through us freely. If we know that the essential force of Life is immensely beautiful and endlessly creative then we will know how to follow our inner guidance. If we know that our true being is spiritually perfect, complete, and pure then we will be healthy, well-balanced, productive, and happy.”

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Book:The Love of Being Loving
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“YOU ARE JUST You are not just for the right or left, but for what is right over the wrong. You are not just rich or poor, but always wealthy in the mind and heart. You are not perfect, but flawed. You are flawed, but you are just. You may just be conscious human, but you are also a magnificent reflection of God.”

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Book:Rise Up and Salute the Sun: The Writings of Suzy Kassem
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“Thank yourself. … Don’t forget to thank yourself. … for your loving heart for your beauty for those weak moments for you being a warrior for letting go of the bad for taking care of everyone for your mistakes for your strength for listening to your heart for your authenticity for sharing your kindness for trying to be better for your ability to forgive for following your intuition for pushing forward for letting someone you love go for your superpowers for never giving up For just being you”

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Author:Marina G. Roussou
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“I push it all into the tree, using both hands. As I do, I feel the shame, the fear, the anxiety of it all transfer into the bark. I push the horrible word Emily used into it with a final shove. And I feel free. Because I know, after all of it, that there's nothing wrong with me. There is nothing wrong with me. I will not let people use my difference, as a stick to beat me with. I imagine throwing that stick into the river. Watching it disappear and float away. I press my forehead against the trunk of this giant tree. "Mary," I breathe. "Jean." Another breath. "Maggie." I leap back from the tree, as if I've been shocked by a spark. I breathe heavily, staring up at it. It seems less frightening. Less powerful. I'm still breathing in and out as Mum, Dad, Nina and Keedie move to stand behind me. No one says anything. We stand, the five of us, by the tree and the river while all of the past blows away. And we stand steady.”

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Book:A Kind of Spark
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“You are beautiful like demolition. Just the thought of you draws my knuckles white. I don’t need a god. I have you and your beautiful mouth, your hands holding onto me, the nails leaving unfelt wounds, your hot breath on my neck. The taste of your saliva. The darkness is ours. The nights belong to us. Everything we do is secret. Nothing we do will ever be understood; we will be feared and kept well away from. It will be the stuff of legend, endless discussion and limitless inspiration for the brave of heart. It’s you and me in this room, on this floor. Beyond life, beyond morality. We are gleaming animals painted in moonlit sweat glow. Our eyes turn to jewels and everything we do is an example of spontaneous perfection. I have been waiting all my life to be with you. My heart slams against my ribs when I think of the slaughtered nights I spent all over the world waiting to feel your touch. The time I annihilated while I waited like a man doing a life sentence. Now you’re here and everything we touch explodes, bursts into bloom or burns to ash. History atomizes and negates itself with our every shared breath. I need you like life needs life. I want you bad like a natural disaster. You are all I see. You are the only one I want to know.”

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Author:Henry Rollins
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“Find people who can handle your darkest truths, who don’t change the subject when you share your pain, or try to make you feel bad for feeling bad. Find people who understand we all struggle, some of us more than others, and that there’s no weakness in admitting it. In fact, few things take as much strength. Find people who want to be real, however that looks and feels, and who want you to be real, too. Find people who get that life is hard, and who get that life is also beautiful, and who aren’t afraid to honor both those realities. Find people who help you feel more at home in your heart, mind and body, and who take joy in your joy. Find people who love you, for real, and who accept you, for real. Just as you are. They’re out there, these people. Your tribe is waiting for you. Don’t stop searching until you find them. 9/30/16 Then her heart opened wider than it ever had before, and all she saw before her, everywhere she looked, were people to love.”

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Author:Scott Stabile
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“...when he looks at Beauty in the only way that Beauty can be seen - only then will it become possible for him to give birth not to images of virtue (because he's in touch with no images), but to true virtue [arete] (because he is in touch with true Beauty). The love of the gods belongs to anyone who has given to true virtue and nourished it, and if any human being could become immortal, it would be he.”

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Book:The Symposium
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“How is it that there was never you until there was and then all was you?”

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Author:Kamand Kojouri
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“In his younger days a man dreams of possessing the heart of the woman he loves; later, the feeling that he possesses the heart of a woman may be enough to make him fall in love with her. And 50, at an age when it would appear - since one seeks in love before everything else a subjective pleasure - that the taste for feminine beauty must play the larger part in its procreation, love may come into being, love of the most physical order, without any foundation in desire. At this time of life a man has already been wounded more than once by the darts of love; it no longer evolves by itself, obeying its own incomprehensible and fatal laws, before his passive and astonished heart. We come to its aid; we falsify it by memory and by suggestion; recognising one of its symptoms we recall and recreate the rest.”

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Book:Swann’s Way
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“On building homes for fallen angels: When I was small - I sought a home, a place to go and rest my bones. Then founded something, of my own, I lived among the restless stones. If seeking leads you back to evil, what good is that, I asked a weevil. He said a home is what you make, it can't be real, if it is fake... And if you wait instead of seek, will you find love, or something bleak? I know (myself) for I have found, a beauty, hidden – in a sound. Waiting is boring. And so is exploring. A smile is sometimes all it takes. And then your whole world simply breaks.”

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Book:Nothing is here...
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“Why,' I said, quite surprised by my own eloquence in inventing all this stuff, 'it happens every day. The old old story. Boys and girls fall in love, that is, they are driven mad and go blind and deaf and see each other not as human animals with comic noses and bandy legs and voices like frogs, but as angels so full of shining goodness that like hollow turnips with candles put into them, they seem miracles of beauty. And the next minute the candles shoot out sparks and burn their eyes. And they seem to each other like devils, full of spite and cruelty. And they will drive each other mad unless they have grown some imagination. Even enough to laugh.”

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Book:THE HORSE'S MOUTH
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“Her limber body swayed as though in time to an orchestra and in a way that showed she ate well, and ate all kinds of things no one could tell, like veal or fresh figs in the sunshine. She had the kind of face that made one cry. She drew salt water out like sheer chemistry. The chemical reaction was usually the same sentiment—the world saw the little shelf bone under her eyes, a sharp nose, precious jaw, two moons for cheekbones, and so was deeply confused and upset that there was no metal armor attached to her body to protect her. People had cried fearing all kinds of possibilities—that a piece of hail might cut across her cheek, a drunkard might break her nose, or a car from nowhere would crash into hers and shatter her skull entirely. But no case of that happened. She remained unblemished. Watchful cars slowed down for her as she walked, drunkards sobered at her eyes, and even hail made way for this little human.”

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Book:A Happy Ghost
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