Beauty is ten, nine of which is dressing.

Beauty is ten, nine of which is dressing.

Beauty is eternity gazing at itself in a mirror .

Beauty is eternity gazing at itself in a mirror .

Everything has beauty, but not everyone sees it.

Everything has beauty, but not everyone sees it.

Beauty is mysterious as well as terrible. God and devil are fighting there, and the battlefield is the heart of read more

Beauty is mysterious as well as terrible. God and devil are fighting there, and the battlefield is the heart of man.

You don't have to be born beautiful to be wildly attractive.

You don't have to be born beautiful to be wildly attractive.

... it's a sort of bloom on a woman. If you have it you don't need to have anything else; read more

... it's a sort of bloom on a woman. If you have it you don't need to have anything else; and if you don't have it, it doesn't much matter what else you have.

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.

Beauty is the first present nature gives to women and the first it takes away.

Beauty is the first present nature gives to women and the first it takes away.

On the beach at night,
Stands a child with her father,
Watching the east, the autumn sky.
Up read more

On the beach at night,
Stands a child with her father,
Watching the east, the autumn sky.
Up through the darkness,
While ravening clouds, the burial clouds, in black masses spreading,
Lower sullen and fast athwart and down the sky,
Amid a transparent clear belt of ether yet left in the east,
Ascends large and calm the lord-star Jupiter,
And nigh at hand, only a very little above,
Swim the delicate sisters the Pleiades.
From the beach the child holding the hand of her father,
Those burial-clouds that lower victorious soon to devour all,
Watching, silently weeps.
Weep not, child,
Weep not, my darling,
With these kisses let me remove your tears,
The ravening clouds shall not long be victorious,
They shall not long possess the sky, they devour the stars only in apparition,
Jupiter shall emerge, be patient, watch again another night,
the Pleiades shall emerge,
They are immortal, all those stars both silvery and golden shall shine out again,
The great stars and the little ones shall shine out again, they endure,
The vast immortal suns and the long-enduring pensive moons shall again shine.
Then dearest child mournest thou only for jupiter?
Considerest thou alone the burial of the stars?
Something there is, (With my lips soothing thee, adding I whisper,
I give thee the first suggestion, the problem and indirection,)
Something there is more immortal even than the stars,
(Many the burials, many the days and nights, passing away,)
Something that shall endure longer even than lustrous Jupiter
Longer than sun or any revolving satellite,
Or the radiant sisters the Pleiades.