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.

Everything has beauty, but not everyone sees it.

Everything has beauty, but not everyone sees it.

Beauty is only skin deep, but ugly goes clean to the bone

Beauty is only skin deep, but ugly goes clean to the bone

... 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.

Beauty is the wisdom of women. Wisdom is the beauty of men.

Beauty is the wisdom of women. Wisdom is the beauty of men.

It is better to be beautiful than to be good, but it is better to be good than to be read more

It is better to be beautiful than to be good, but it is better to be good than to be ugly.

Thou who hast
The fatal gist of beauty.

Thou who hast
The fatal gist of beauty.

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.

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!