Beauty in art is often nothing but ugliness subdued.
Beauty is variable, ugliness is constant.
Familiarity is a magician that is cruel to beauty but kind to ugliness.
If beauty is in the eye of the beholder, so is ugliness
Ugliness like beauty is only skin deep
An artist is an artist only because of his exquisite sense of beauty, a sense which shows him intoxicating pleasures, but which at the same time implies and contains an equally exquisite sense of all deformities and all disproportions.
Being is desirable because it is identical with Beauty, and Beauty is loved because it is Being. We ourselves possess Beauty when we are true to our own being; ugliness is in going over to another order; knowing ourselves, we are beautiful; in self-ignorance, we are ugly.
A witty woman is a treasure; a witty beauty is a power.
Endurance is nobler than strength, and patience than beauty.
Beauty soon grows familiar to the lover,
Fades in his eye, and palls upon the sense.
Art is beauty, the perpetual invention of detail, the choice of words, the exquisite care of execution.
Rare is agreement between beauty and modesty.
It is not much for its beauty that makes a claim upon men's hearts, as for that subtle, something, that quality of air that emanates from old trees, that so wonderfully changes and renews a weary spirit.
Modesty is to merit, as shades to figures in a picture, giving it strength and beauty
Evermore in the world is this marvelous balance of beauty and disgust, magnificence and rats
You can scarcely imagine the beauty and magnificence of the buildings we burnt.
Beauty is a short-lived tyranny.
While other women's magazines in the market focus on fashion and beauty, we will be the only luxury-lifestyle magazine with an original, provocative approach to fashion, beauty, society, art, culture, travel and entertainment.
Temperament is the primary requisite for the critic - a temperament exquisitely susceptible to beauty, and to the various impressions that beauty gives us.
Industrial societies turn their citizens into image-junkies; it is the most irresistible form of mental pollution. Poignant longings for beauty, for an end to probing below the surface, for a redemption and celebration of the body of the world. Ultimately, having an experience becomes identical with taking a photograph of it.
Beauty always promises, but never gives anything.
If there is light in the soul, there will be beauty in the person.
Is it too much to ask that women be spared the daily struggle for superhuman beauty in order to offer it to the caresses of a subhumanly ugly mate?
Each bud flowers but once and each flower has but its minute of perfect beauty; so, in the garden of the soul each feeling has, as it were, its flowering instant, its one and only moment of expansive grace and radiant kingship. Each star passes but once in the night through the meridian over our heads and shines there but an instant; so, in the heaven of the mind each thought touches its zenith but once, and in that moment all its brilliancy and all its greatness culminate. Artist, poet, or thinker, if you want to fix and immortalize your ideas or your feelings, seize them at this precise and fleeting moment, for it is their highest point. Before it, you have but vague outlines or dim presentiments of them. After it you will have only weakened reminiscence or powerless regret; that moment is the moment of your ideal.
An instant's visitor the godhead shone.
On life's thin border awhile the Vision stood
And bent over earth's pondering forehead curve.
Interpreting a recondite beauty and bliss
In colour's hieroglyphs of mystic sense,
It wrote the lines of a significant myth
Telling of a greatness of spiritual dawns,
A brilliant code penned with the sky for page.