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Beauty: Quotations from Cyclopedia of Practical Quotations
Beauty soon grows familiar to the lover, Fades in his eye, and palls upon the sense.— ADDISON — Cato. Act I. Sc. 4.
I must not say that she was true, Yet let me say that she was fair; And they, that lovely face who view, They should not ask if truth be there.— MATTHEW ARNOLD — Euphrosyne.
The beautiful are never desolate; But some one alway loves them-God or man. If man abandons, God himself takes them.— BAILEY — Festus. Sc. Water and Wood. Midnight. L. 370.
There's nothing that allays an angry mind So soon as a sweet beauty.— BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER — The Elder Brother. Act III. Sc. 5.
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!— BERANGER — Qu'elle est jolie. Translated by C. L. Betts.
The beautiful seems right By force of beauty, and the feeble wrong Because of weakness.— E. B. BROWNING — Aurora Leigh. Bk. I.
The essence of all beauty, I call love, The attribute, the evidence, and end, The consummation to the inward sense Of beauty apprehended from without, I still call love.— E. B. BROWNING — Sword Glare.
And behold there was a very stately palace before him, the name of which was Beautiful.— BUNYAN — Pilgrim's Progress. Pt. I.
A lovely being, scarcely formed or moulded, A rose with all its sweetest leaves yet folded.— BYRON — Don Juan. Canto 15. St. 43.
Her glossy hair was cluster'd o'er a brow Bright with intelligence, and fair and smooth; Her eyebrow's shape was like the aërial bow, Her cheek all purple with the beam of youth, Mounting, at times, to a transparent glow, As if her veins ran lightning. S.— BYRON — Don Juan. Canto I. St. 61.
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.— BYRON — She Walks in Beauty.
The light of love, the purity of grace, The mind, the Music breathing from her face, The heart whose softness harmonized the whole, And, oh! the eye was in itself a Soul!— BYRON — The Bride of Abydos. Canto I. St. 6.
Thou who hast The fatal gift of beauty— BYRON — Childe Harold. Canto IV. St. 42.
Who doth not feel, until his failing sight Faints into dimness with its own delight, His changing cheek, his sinking heart confess, The might-the majesty of Loveliness? C.— BYRON — The Bride of Abydos. Canto I. St. 6.
Exceeding fair she was not; and yet fair In that she never studied to be fairer Than Nature made her; beauty cost her nothing, Her virtues were so rare.— GEORGE CHAPMAN — All Fools. Act I. Sc. I.
We do love beauty at first sight; and we do cease to love it, if it is not accompanied by amiable qualities.— LYDIA MARIA CHILD — Beauty.
She is not fair to outward view As many maidens be; Her loveliness I never knew Until she smiled on me: Oh! then I saw her eye was bright, A well of love, a spring of light.— HARTLEY COLERIDGE — Song.
Her gentle limbs did she undress, And lay down in her loveliness.— COLERIDGE — Christabel. Pt. I. St. 24.
'Twas not the fading charms of face That riveted Love's golden chain; It was the high celestial grace Of goodness, that doth never wane- Whose are the sweets that never pall, Delicious, pure, and crowning all.— ABRAHAM COLES — The Microcosm and
other Poems. P. 244. Old as I am, for ladies' love unfit, The power of beauty I remember yet, Which once inflam'd my soul, and still inspires my wit.— DRYDEN — Cymon and Iphigenia. L. 1.
She, though in full-blown flower of glorious beauty, Grows cold, even in the summer of her age.— DRYDEN — Edipus. Act IV. Sc. 1.
When beauty fires the blood, how love exalts the mind!— DRYDEN — Cymon and Iphigenia. L. 41.
If eyes were made for seeing, Then beauty is its own excuse for being.— EMERSON — The Rhodora.
The beautiful rests on the foundations of the necessary.— EMERSON — Essay. On the Poet.
Who gave thee, O Beauty, The keys of this breast, - Too credulous lover Of blest and unblest? Say, when in lapsed ages Thee knew I of old? Or what was the service For which I was sold?— EMERSON — Ode to Beauty. St. 1.
In beauty, faults conspicuous grow; The smallest speck is seen on snow.— GAY — Fable. The Peacock, Turkey and Goose. L. 1.
'Tis impious pleasure to delight in harm, And beauty should be kind, as well as charm. GEO. GRANVILLE (Lord Lansdowne)- To Myra. L. 21. The dimple that thy chin contains has beauty in its round, That never has been fathomed yet by myriad thoughts profound.— HAFIZ — Odes. CXLIII.
Beauty was lent to nature as the type Of heaven's unspeakable and holy joy, Where all perfection makes the sum of bliss.— S. J. HALE — Beauty. In Dict. of
Poetical Quotations. There's beauty all around our paths, if but our watchful eyes Can trace it 'midst familiar things, and through their lowly guise.— S. MRS. HEMANS — Our Daily Paths.
Beauty is the index of a larger fact than wisdom.— O. W. HOLMES — The Professor at the
Breakfast Table. II. A heaven of charms divine Nausicaa lay. и.— HOMER — Odyssey. Bk. VI. L. 22.
Pope's trans. A queen devoid of beauty is not queen; She needs the royalty of beauty's mien.— VICTOR HUGO — Eviradnus. V.
A thing of beauty is a joy forever; Its loveliness increases; it will never Pass into nothingness; but still will keep A bower quiet for us, and a sleep Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.— KEATS — Endymion. Bk. I. L. 1.
Beauty is truth, truth beauty.— KEATS — Ode on a Grecian Urn.
'Tis beauty calls, and glory shows the way.— NATHANIEL LEE — Alexander the Great; or, The Rival Queens. Act IV. Sc. 2.
Beautiful in form and feature, Lovely as the day, Can there be so fair a creature Formed of common clay?— LONGFELLOW — Masque of Pandora.
C. The Workshop of Hephastus. Chorus of the Graces. Blue were her eyes as the fairy-flax, Her cheeks like the dawn of day, And her bosom white as the hawthorn buds, That ope in the month of May.— LONGFELLOW — The Wreck of the Hesperus. St. 2.
Oh, could you view the melodie Of ev'ry grace, And musick of her face, You'd drop a teare, Seeing more harmonie In her bright eye, Then now you heare.— LOVELACE — Orpheus to Beasts.
Beauty, like wit, to judges should be shown; Both most are valued where they best are known.— LORD LYTTLETON — Soliloquy of a Beauty in the Country. L. 13.
Where none admire, 'tis useless to excel; Where none are beaux, 'tis vain to be a belle.— LORD LYTTLETON — Soliloquy of a Beauty in the Country. L. 11.
Beauty and sadness always go together. Nature thought beauty too rich to go forth Upon the earth without a meet alloy.— GEORGE MACDONALD — Within and Without. Pt. IV. Sc. 3.
O, thou art fairer than the evening air Clad in the beauty of a thousand stars.— MARLOWE — Faustus.
Was this the face that launch'd a thousand ships, And burnt the topless towers of Ilium? Sweet Helen, make me immortal with a kiss.- Her lips suck forth my soul; see, where it flies!-— MARLOWE — Faustus.
Too fair to worship, too divine to love.— HENRY HART MILMAN — The Belvidere
And ladies of the Hesperides, that seemed Fairer than feign'd of old.— MILTON — Paradise Regained. Bk. II. L. 357.
Beauty is nature's brag, and must be shown In courts, at feasts, and high solemnities, Where most may wonder at the workmanship.— MILTON — Comus. L. 745.
Beauty is Nature's coin, must not be hoarded, But must be current, and the good thereof Consists in mutual and partaken bliss.— MILTON — Comus. L. 739.
*** for beauty stands In the admiration only of weak minds Led captive. Cease to admire, and all her plumes Fall flat and shrink into a trivial toy, At every sudden slighting quite abash'd.— MILTON — Paradise Regained. Bk. II. L. 220.
Hung over her enamour'd, and beheld Beauty, which, whether waking or asleep, Shot forth peculiar graces.— MILTON — Paradise Lost. Bk. V. L. 13.
*** in naked beauty more adorn'd, More lovely than Pandora.— MILTON — Paradise Lost. Bk. IV. L. 713.
Yet beauty, tho' injurious, hath strange power, After offence returning, to regain Love once possess'd.— MILTON — Samson Agonistes. L. 1003.
The maid who modestly conceals Her beauties, while she hides, reveals: Gives but a glimpse, and fancy draws Whate'er the Grecian Venus was.— S. EDWARD MOORE — The Spider and the
Bee. Fable X. Not more the rose, the queen of flowers, Outblushes all the bloom of bower, Than she unrivall'd grace discloses; The sweetest rose, where all are roses.— MOORE — Odes of Anacreon. Ode LXVI.
To weave a garland for the rose, And think thus crown'd 'twould lovelier be, Were far less vain than to suppose That silks and gems add grace to thee.— MOORE — Songs from the Greek Anthology.
To Weave a Garland. An' fair as was her sweet bodie, Yet fairer was her mind :- Menie's the queen among the flowers, The wale o' womankind.— ROBERT NICOLL — Menie.
Hast thou left thy blue course in heaven, golden haired son of the sky! The west has opened its gates; the bed of thy repose is there. The waves come, to behold thy beauty. They lift their trembling heads. They see thee lovely in thy sleep; they shrink away with fear. Rest, in thy shadowy cave, O sun! let thy return be in joy.— OSSIAN — Carric-Thura. St. 1.
And all the carnal beauty of my wife Is but skin-deep.— SIR THOS. OVERBURY — A Wife.
Beauties in vain their pretty eyes may roll; Charms strike the sight, but merit wins the soul.— POPE — Rape of the Lock. Canto V. L. 33.
'Tis not a lip, or eye, we beauty call, But the joint force and full result of all.— POPE — Essay. On Criticism. Pt. II. L. 45.
For, when with beauty we can virtue join, We paint the semblance of a form divine.— PRIOR — To the Countess of Oxford.
No longer shall the bodice aptly lac'd From thy full bosom to thy slender waist, That air and harmony of shape express, Fine by degrees, and beautifully less.— PRIOR — Henry and Emma. L. 429.
Is she not more than painting can express, Or youthful poets fancy, when they love?— NICHOLAS ROWE — The Fair Penitent. Act III. Sc. 1.
Remember that the most beautiful things in world are the most useless; peacocks and lilies, for the world are the most useless; peacocks and instance.— RUSKIN
The beauty that addresses itself to the eyes only is only the spell of the moment; the eye of the spell of the moment; the eye of the body is not always that of the soul.— GEORGES SAND — Handsome Lawrence. Ch. I.
All things of beauty are not theirs alone Who hold the fee; but unto him no less Who can enjoy, than unto them who own, Are sweetest uses given to possess. J. G. SAXE The Beautiful. And ne'er did Grecian chisel trace A Nymph, a Naiad, or a Grace, Of finer form, or lovelier face!— SCOTT — Lady of the Lake. Canto I. St. 18.
There was a soft and pensive grace, A cast of thought upon her face, That suited well the forehead high, The eyelash dark, and downcast eye;— SCOTT — Rokeby. Canto IV. St. 5.
Why thus longing, thus forever sighing For the far-off, unattain'd, and dim, While the beautiful all round thee lying Offers up its low, perpetual hymn?— HARRIET W. SEWALL — Why Thus
Longing. Beauty comes, we scarce know how, as an emanation from sources deeper than itself.— SHAIRP — Studies in Poetry and
Philosophy. Moral Motive Power. Beauty doth varnish age.— Shakespeare — Love's Labour's Lost. Act IV. Sc. 3. L. 244.
Beauty is a witch, Against whose charms faith melteth into blood.— Shakespeare — Much Ado About Nothing. Act II. Sc. 1. L. 186.
Beauty is bought by judgment of the eye, Not utter'd by base sale of chapmen's tongues.— Shakespeare — Love's Labour's Lost. Act II. Sc.1. L. 15.
Beauty is but a vain and doubtful good; A shining gloss that vadeth suddenly; A flower that dies when first it 'gins to bud; A brittle glass that's broken presently; A doubtful good, a gloss, a glass, a flower, Lost, vaded, broken, dead within an hour. The Passionate Pilgrim. St. 13. Beauty provoketh thieves sooner than gold.— Shakespeare — S. As You Like It. Act I. Sc. 3. L. 112.
Beauty's ensign yet Is crimson in thy lips, and in thy cheeks, And death's pale flag is not advanced there.— Shakespeare — Romeo and Juliet. Act V. Sc. 3. L. 94.
For her own person, It beggar'd all description. и.— Shakespeare — Antony and Cleopatra. Act II. Sc. 2. L. 202.
Heaven bless thee! Thou hast the sweetest face I ever looked on; Sir, as I have a soul, she is an angel.— Shakespeare — Henry VIII. Act IV. Sc. 1. L. 43.
Her beauty makes This vault a feasting presence full of light.— Shakespeare — Romeo and Juliet. Act V. Sc. 3. L. 85.
I'll not shed her blood; Nor scar that whiter skin of hers than snow, And smooth as monumental alabaster.— Shakespeare — Othello. Act V. Sc. 2. L. 3.
Of Nature's gifts thou may'st with lilies boast And with the half-blown rose.— Shakespeare — King John. Act III. Sc. 1. L. 53.
O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night, Like a rich jewel in an Ethiope's ear: Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear!— Shakespeare — Romeo and Juliet. Act I. Sc. 5. L. 46.
Say that she frown; I'll say she looks as clear As morning roses newly wash'd with dew.— Shakespeare — Taming of the Shrew. Act II. Sc. 1. L. 173.
See where she comes, apparell'd like the spring. C.— Shakespeare — Pericles. Act I. Sc. 1. L. 12.
There's nothing ill can dwell in such a temple: If the ill spirit have so fair a house, Good things will strive to dwell with't.— Shakespeare — Tempest. Act I. Sc. 2. L. 458.
'Tis beauty truly blent, whose red and white Nature's own sweet and cunning hand laid on.— Shakespeare — Twelfth Night. Act I. Sc. 5. L. 257.
A lovely lady, garmented in light From her own beauty.— SHELLEY — The Witch of Atlas. St. 5.
O beloved Pan, and all ye other gods of this place, grant me to become beautiful in the inner man.— SOCRATES — in Plato's Phædrus. End.
For all that faire is, is by nature good; That is a signe to know the gentle blood.— SPENSER — An Hymne in Honour of Beauty. L. 139.
Her face so faire, as flesh it seemed not, But heavenly pourtraict of bright angels' hew, Cleare as the skye withouten blame or blot, Through goodly mixture of complexion's dew.— SPENSER — Faerie Queene. Canto III. St. 22.
They seemed to whisper: "How handsome she is! What wavy tresses! what sweet perfume! Under her mantle she hides her wings; Her flower of a bonnet is just in bloom."— E. C. STEDMAN — Translation. Jean
Prouvaire's Song at the Barricade. She wears a rose in her hair, At the twilight's dreamy close: Her face is fair,-how fair Under the rose!— R. H. STODDARD — Under the Rose.
A daughter of the gods, divinely tall, And most divinely fair.— TENNYSON — A Dream of Fair Women. St. 22.
How should I gauge what beauty is her dole, Who cannot see her countenance for her soul, As birds see not the casement for the sky? And as 'tis check they prove its presence by, I know not of her body till I find My flight debarred the heaven of her mind.— FRANCIS THOMPSON — Her Portrait. St. 9.
Whose body other ladies well might bear As soul,-yea, which it profanation were For all but you to take as fleshly woof, Being spirit truest proof.— FRANCIS THOMPSON — "Manus Animam Pinxit." St. 3.
Whose form is as a grove Hushed with the cooing of an unseen dove.— FRANCIS THOMPSON — "Manus Animam Pinxit." St. 3.
Loveliness Needs not the foreign aid of ornament, But is when unadorn'd adorn'd the most.— THOMSON — The Seasons. Autumn. L. 204.
Thoughtless of beauty, she was Beauty's self.— THOMSON — The Seasons. Autumn. L. 209.
All the beauty of the world, 'tis but skin deep.— RALPH VENNING — Orthodoxe Paradoxes
(Third Edition, 1650). The Triumph of Assurance. P. 41. The yielding marble of her snowy breast. S.— EDMUND WALLER — On a Lady Passing
through a Crowd of People. Be she fairer than the day, Or the flowery meads in May, If she be not so to me, What care I how fair she be?— GEORGE WITHER — The Shepherd's
Resolution. Alas! how little can a moment show Of an eye where feeling plays In ten thousand dewy rays; A face o'er which a thousand shadows go!— WORDSWORTH — The Triad.
And beauty born of murmuring sound.— WORDSWORTH — Three Years She Grew in
Sun and Shower. Elysian beauty, melancholy grace, Brought from a pensive, though a happy place.— WORDSWORTH — Laodamia.
Her eyes as stars of Twilight fair, Like Twilight's, too, her dusky hair, But all things else about her drawn From May-time and the cheerful Dawn.— WORDSWORTH — She was a Phantom of
Delight. True beauty dwells in deep retreats, Whose veil is unremoved Till heart with heart in concord beats, And the lover is beloved.— WORDSWORTH — To
Let Other Bards of Angels Sing. What's female beauty, but an air divine, Through which the mind's all-gentle graces shine? They, like the Sun, irradiate all between; The body charms, because the soul is seen.— YOUNG — Love of Fame. Satire VI. L. 151.
O matre pulchra filia pulchrior. O daughter, more beautiful than thy lovely mother..— HORACE — Carmina. I. 16. 1.
Nihil est ab omni Parte beatum. Nothing is beautiful from every point of view.— HORACE — Carmina. II. 16. 27.
Auxilium non leve vultus habet. A pleasing countenance is no slight advantage.— OVID — Epistolæ Ex Ponto. II. 8. 54.
Raram facit misturam cum sapientiâ forma. Beauty and wisdom are rarely conjoined.— PETRONIUS ARBITER — Satyricon. XCIV.
Nimia est miseria nimis pulchrum esse hominem. It is a great plague to be too handsome a man.— PLAUTUS — Miles Gloriosus. I. 1. 68.
L'air spirituel est dans les hommes ce que la régularité des traits est dans les femmes: c'est le genre de beauté où les plus vains puissent aspirer. A look of intelligence in men is what regularity of features is in women: it is a style of beauty to which the most vain may aspire.— LA BRUYÈRE — Les Caractères. XII.
Schwer ist die Kunst, vergänglich ist ihr Preis. Art is difficult, transient is her reward.— SCHILLER — Wallenstein. Prolog. L. 40.
Von der Freiheit gesäugt wachsen die Künste der Lust. All the arts of pleasure grow when suckled by freedom.— SCHILLER — Der Spaziergang. L. 122.
L'arte vostra quella, quanto puote, Seque, come il maestro fa il discente; Si che vostr'arte a Dio quasi è nipote. Art, as far as it is able, follows nature, as a pupil imitates his master; thus your art must be, as it were, God's grandchild.— DANTE — Inferno. XI. 103.
Die Wahrheit ist vorhanden für den Weisen. Die Schönheit für ein fühlend Herz. Truth exists for the wise, beauty for the feeling heart.— SCHILLER — Don Carlos. IV. 21. 186.
Schön war ich auch, und das war mein Verderben. I too was fair, and that was my undoing.— GOETHE — Faust. I. 25. 30.
No todas hermosuras enamoran, que algunas alegran la vista, y no rinden la voluntad. All kinds of beauty do not inspire love; there is a kind which only pleases the sight, but does not captivate the affections.— CERVANTES — Don Quixote. II. 6.