I’m from a nice, suburban, middle-class family, but my tattoos remind me where I’ve been.
Everything has beauty, but not everyone can see.
If you look round Hollywood there’s no end of white smiles and six packs. Long lines of beautiful people lining up to be incredible on film.
A beautiful body perishes, but a work of art dies not.
What would be ugly in a garden constitutes beauty in a mountain.
Weeds are flowers, too, once you get to know them.
The beautiful has but one type, the ugly has a thousand.
Beauty is unbearable, drives us to despair, offering us for a minute the glimpse of an eternity that we should like to stretch out over the whole of time.
Beauty is the only thing that time cannot harm. Philosophies fall away like sand, and creeds follow one another like the withered leaves of autumn; but what is beautiful is a joy for all seasons and a possession for all eternity.
At some point in life the world’s beauty becomes enough. You don’t need to photograph, paint, or even remember it. It is enough.
Zits are beauty marks.
Youth is happy, because it has the ability to see beauty. When this ability is lost, wretched old age begins, decay, unhappiness.