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By plucking her petals, you do not gather the beauty of the flower.
By plucking her petals, you do not gather the beauty of the flower.
Beauty is unbearable, drives us to despair, offering us for a minute the glimpse of an eternity that we should read more
Beauty is unbearable, drives us to despair, offering us for a minute the glimpse of an eternity that we should like to stretch out over the whole of time.
When you look closely people are so strange & so complicated that they're actually beautiful.
When you look closely people are so strange & so complicated that they're actually beautiful.
Paris wrapped in night! half nebulous
The moonlight streams o'er the blue-shadowed roofs..
A lovely frame for this wild battlescene read more
Paris wrapped in night! half nebulous
The moonlight streams o'er the blue-shadowed roofs..
A lovely frame for this wild battlescene
Beneath the vapor's floating scarves, the Seine
Trembles, mysterious, like a magic mirror
Cyrano Act 5.
I have read in Plato and Cicero sayings that are wise and very beautiful; but I have never read in read more
I have read in Plato and Cicero sayings that are wise and very beautiful; but I have never read in either of them: Come unto me all ye that labor and are heavy laden.
Beauty is how you feel inside, and it reflects in your eyes. It is not something physical.
Beauty is how you feel inside, and it reflects in your eyes. It is not something physical.
Her glossy hair was cluster'd o'er a brow
Bright with intelligence, and fair and smooth;
Her eyebrow's read more
Her glossy hair was cluster'd o'er a brow
Bright with intelligence, and fair and smooth;
Her eyebrow's shape was like the aerial bow,
Her cheek all purple with the beam of youth,
Mounting, at times, to a transparent glow,
As if her veins ran lightning.
Beauty soon grows familiar to the lover,
Fades in his eye, and palls upon the sense.
Beauty soon grows familiar to the lover,
Fades in his eye, and palls upon the sense.
The ladies of St. James's!
They're painted to the eyes;
Their white is stays for ever,
read more
The ladies of St. James's!
They're painted to the eyes;
Their white is stays for ever,
Their red it never dies;
But Phyllida, my Phillida!
Her colour comes and goes;
It trembles to a lily,--
It wavers to a rose.