A human being is a part of a whole, called by us _universe_, a part limited in time and space. read more

A human being is a part of a whole, called by us _universe_, a part limited in time and space. He experiences himself, his thoughts and feelings as something separated from the rest... a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest to us. Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty."

The essence of all beauty, I call love,
The attribute, the evidence, and end,
The consummation to read more

The essence of all beauty, I call love,
The attribute, the evidence, and end,
The consummation to the inward sense
Of beauty apprehended from without,
I still call love.

The beauty seems right
By force of beauty, and the feeble wrong
Because of weakness.

The beauty seems right
By force of beauty, and the feeble wrong
Because of weakness.

Rare is the union of beauty and purity.

Rare is the union of beauty and purity.

Ye Gods! but she is wondrous fair!
For me her constant flame appears;
The garland she hath read more

Ye Gods! but she is wondrous fair!
For me her constant flame appears;
The garland she hath culled, I wear
On brows bald since my thirty years.
Ye veils that deck my loved one rare,
Fall, for the crowning triumph's nigh.
Ye Gods! but she is wondrous fair!
And I, so plain a man am I!

To be beautiful means to be yourself. You don’t need to be accepted by others. You need to accept yourself.

To be beautiful means to be yourself. You don’t need to be accepted by others. You need to accept yourself.

There's nothing that allays an angry mind
So soon as a sweet beauty.

There's nothing that allays an angry mind
So soon as a sweet beauty.

Who doth not feel, until his failing sight
Faints into dimness with its own delight,
His changing read more

Who doth not feel, until his failing sight
Faints into dimness with its own delight,
His changing cheek, his sinking heart confess,
The might--the majesty of Loveliness?

We delight in the beauty of the butterfly, but rarely admit the changes it has gone through to achieve that read more

We delight in the beauty of the butterfly, but rarely admit the changes it has gone through to achieve that beauty.