Paris wrapped in night! half nebulous
The moonlight streams o'er the blue-shadowed roofs..
A lovely frame for this wild battlescene read more

Paris wrapped in night! half nebulous
The moonlight streams o'er the blue-shadowed roofs..
A lovely frame for this wild battlescene
Beneath the vapor's floating scarves, the Seine
Trembles, mysterious, like a magic mirror
Cyrano Act 5.

A woman whose smile is open and whose expression is glad has a kind of beauty no matter what she read more

A woman whose smile is open and whose expression is glad has a kind of beauty no matter what she wears.

And behold there was a very stately palace before him, the name
of which was Beautiful.

And behold there was a very stately palace before him, the name
of which was Beautiful.

Beauty is only skin deep, but it's a valuable asset if you're poor or haven't any sense.

Beauty is only skin deep, but it's a valuable asset if you're poor or haven't any sense.

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!

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?

Beauty soon grows familiar to the lover,
Fades in his eye, and palls upon the sense.

Beauty soon grows familiar to the lover,
Fades in his eye, and palls upon the sense.

Everything has its beauty, but not everyone sees it

Everything has its beauty, but not everyone sees it

On the beach at night,
Stands a child with her father,
Watching the east, the autumn sky.
Up read more

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.