The light of love, the purity of grace,
The mind, the Music breathing from her face,
The read more

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!

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.

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

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

Beauty is whatever gives joy.

Beauty is whatever gives joy.

Who doth not feel, until his failing sight
Faints into dimness with its own delight,
His changing read more

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?

the call
of a loon
across
a
quiet lake.

the call
of a loon
across
a
quiet lake.

Time takes the ugliness and horror out of death and turns it into beauty.

Time takes the ugliness and horror out of death and turns it into beauty.

Beauty is eternity gazing at itself in a mirror .

Beauty is eternity gazing at itself in a mirror .

Love is much like a wild rose, beautiful and calm, but willing to draw blood in its defense.

Love is much like a wild rose, beautiful and calm, but willing to draw blood in its defense.