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And behold there was a very stately palace before him, the name
of which was Beautiful.
And behold there was a very stately palace before him, the name
of which was Beautiful.
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.
I would warn you that I do not attribute to nature either beauty or deformity, order or confusion. Only in read more
I would warn you that I do not attribute to nature either beauty or deformity, order or confusion. Only in relation to our imagination can things be called beautiful or ugly, well-ordered or confused.
the call
of a loon
across
a
quiet lake.
the call
of a loon
across
a
quiet lake.
... 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.
A woman whose smile is open and whose expression is glad has a kind of beauty no matter what she read more
A woman whose smile is open and whose expression is glad has a kind of beauty no matter what she wears.
Beauty is power; a smile is its sword.
Beauty is power; a smile is its sword.
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.
You can take no credit for beauty at sixteen. But if you are beautiful at sixty, it will be your read more
You can take no credit for beauty at sixteen. But if you are beautiful at sixty, it will be your soul's own doing. •Marie Carmichael Stopes Do you love me because I'm beautiful, or am I beautiful because you love me?