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.

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."

Everything has its beauty, but not everyone sees it

Everything has its beauty, but not everyone sees it

All kinds of beauty do not inspire love; there is a kind which
only pleases the sight, but does read more

All kinds of beauty do not inspire love; there is a kind which
only pleases the sight, but does not captivate the affections.
[Sp., No todas hermosuras enamoran, que algunas alegran la vista,
y no rinden la voluntad.]

Oh she's nice, she's kind, innocent too. She's probably pretty, the right one for you. So just forget me: I'm read more

Oh she's nice, she's kind, innocent too. She's probably pretty, the right one for you. So just forget me: I'm only a friend. Though I'll be with you, until the end.

A beautiful line of verse has twelve feet, and two wings.

A beautiful line of verse has twelve feet, and two wings.

Beauty is not caused. It is.

Beauty is not caused. It is.

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

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!