Her name was Penny, and she was good looking. She wasn’t a dime, but she wasn’t a nickel either. If there were a coin worth 7.5 cents, she’d be that. And I’d be the vending machine that accepts those coins.

The acute experience of great beauty readily evokes a nameless yearning for something more than earth can offer. Elegant splendor reawakens our spirit’s aching need for the infinite, a hunger for more than matter can provide.

Men won't easily give up a system in which half the world's population works for next to nothing...[and recognizes that]precisely because that half works for so little, it may have no energy left to fight for anything else.

I just invented a new light that shuts off automatically when an ugly person walks in the room. Guaranteed to help them get laid. Darkness is the great equalizer. Blind and Deaf Magazine called my product, “Helen Kelleresque.

Maybe the reason nothing seems to be "fixing you" is because you're not broken. Let today be the day you stop living within the confines of how others define or judge you. You have a unique beauty and purpose; live accordingly.

Once upon a long ago time I was a girl with hopeful halos in my eyes—not unlike you—not a typical beauty but beautiful nonetheless, as all young girls tend to be in their prime, even if they don’t tend to know it.

He could be boastful in a way pleasantly at odds with his native fatalism, and his youthful stubbornness had a way of ameliorating into a sort of wounded dignity, which was centered in the darting passes of his deep-set, dark eyes.

With characteristic lack of false modesty, John once said to me, "My looks are a rough test of people. If they don't begin to see me beautiful when they have had a chance to learn, I know they're dead inside, and dangerous.

Language, she said, was just our way to explain away the wonder and glory of the world. To deconstruct. To dismiss. She said people can't deal with how beautiful the world really is. How it can't be explained and understood.

But if God is the flowers and the treesAnd the hills and the sun and the moonlight,Then I believe in him,Then I believe in him all the time,And my whole life is an oration and a mass,And a communion with my eyes and through my ears.

When a beauty hits you, you never complain! You just start demanding for stronger hits! Find a beauty and let it hit you! Find a spectacular rainbow amongst the clouds, find a river shining glamorously under the sun! Let it hit you!

And she thought then how strange it was that disaster--the sort of disaster that drained the blood from your body and took the air out of your lungs and hit you again and again in the face--could be at times, such a thing of beauty.

You see what you choose to see, because all perception is a choice.And when you cease to impose your meanings on what you see,your spiritual eyes will open, and you will see a world free of judgmentand shining in its endless beauty.

Comparisons are inevitable, her face resembles her, he is like him and this old man is like that old man. This is taking things too far.All old men and women are alike. Ageing makes no discrimination between the beauty and the ugly.

Houses, housetops, like human beings have wonderful character. The lives of housetops. The wear of the seasons. The country is beautiful, young, growing things. The majesty of trees. The backs of tenement houses are living documents.