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    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.

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Imperfection is beauty, madness is genius and it's better to be absolutely ridiculous than absolutely boring.

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The beauty seems right
By force of beauty, and the feeble wrong
Because of weakness.

The beauty seems right
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A beautiful line of verse has twelve feet, and two wings.

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I would warn you that I do not attribute to nature either beauty or deformity, order or confusion. Only in read more

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It never seems to occur to some people, that, like beauty, a sense of humor may sometimes be fatal.

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As long as I love beauty I am young.

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I have read in Plato and Cicero sayings that are wise and very beautiful; but I have never read in read more

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The ability to see beauty is the beginning of our moral sensibility. What we believe is beautiful we will not read more

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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?

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