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Beauty is not in the face; beauty is a light in the heart
Beauty is not in the face; beauty is a light in the heart
Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It read more
Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that frightens us most. We ask ourselves, 'Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and famous?' Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that people won't feel insecure around you. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in all of us. And when we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.
Just because you're beautiful and perfect, it's made you conceited.
Just because you're beautiful and perfect, it's made you conceited.
Everything has beauty, but not everyone sees it.
Everything has beauty, but not everyone sees it.
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.
Love of beauty is Taste. The creation of beauty is Art.
Love of beauty is Taste. The creation of beauty is Art.
Practice random beauty and senseless acts of love.
Practice random beauty and senseless acts of love.
She walks in beauty like the night
Of cloudless chimes and starry skies;
And all that's best read more
She walks in beauty like the night
Of cloudless chimes and starry skies;
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
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.
