You are only as beautiful as your last action..
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I am the eye that beholds.. And I am the dreamer that paints the stars in the night sky.. For I am the one they call artist, and you call Love.
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There are reasons we congregate in these hot spots- to worship beauty and to feel its effects light up the electrolytes in the bloodstream.
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We are beautifulWhen we know the real depth of beauty. We are rich When we want what we have and not much else. We are strong When we needn't prey on the innocence of others. We are honest When we face the lies we tell ourselves. We are wise To remember the limits of our wisdom. We are great When we realise how small we really are. We are smart When we overcome that which divides us. We are friends When we care for each other, near or far. We are loving Only when our love knows no boundaries. We are kind When we let our conscience be our guide. We are selfless When we forsake ourselves for others. We are truly ALIVE When BY LIFE we abide.
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To every Armageddonist, every earth lover must keep saying with all the sincerity and affection we can muster, May God make this world as beautiful to you as it has been to me.
nature religion spirituality beauty-in-nature
The feeling of awed wonder that science can give us is one of the highest experiences of which the human psyche is capable. It is a deep aesthetic passion to rank with the finest that music and poetry can deliver. It is truly one of the things that make life worth living and it does so, if anything, more effectively if it convinces us that the time we have for living is quite finite.
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I sat up in the strange bed fearing it had been a dream, afraid I would never see her again. Not because I wanted anything from her, only her presence. The disappearance of the presence of beauty is the most despairing of events on this time-wheel of ours that rolls onward towards death.
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Beauty doesn't have to be anything. What's a vase about? What's a sunset or a flower about? What, for that matter, is Mozart's Twenty-third Piano Concerto?
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The beauty of that June day was almost staggering. After the wet spring, everything that could turn green had outdone itself in greenness and everything that could even dream of blooming or blossoming was in bloom and blossom. The sunlight was a benediction. The breezes were so caressingly soft and intimate on the skin as to be embarrassing.
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With its leaves so rich and heavy with elation and its crimson face made brighter with visions of divinity the shadow of a certain rose looks just like an angel eating light.
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I am too rich already, for my eyes mint gold.-
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BEAUTY IS AN ART OF LIFE WHICH EVOLVES EVERY SINGLE THING WE HAVE ON EARTH.
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Up there in that room, as I see it, is the reading and the thinking-through, a theory of rivers, of trees moving, of falling light. Here on the river, as I lurch against a freshening of the current, is the practice of rivers. In navigating by the glow of the Milky Way, the practice of light. In steadying with a staff, the practice of wood.
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From barren brown stems to glistening leaf-buds; from the leaf-buds to snowy virginity of bloomIt was like a flute song forgotten in another existence and remembered again. What? How? Why? This singing she heard that had nothing to do with her ears. The rose of the world was breathing out smell. It followed her through all her waking moments and caressed her in her sleep.
nature trees beauty-in-nature
To watch the dawn emerge from the night undoubtedly gives a heavenly feeling! The fresh sun rays entwine with the dark horizon and peep out of the creek with tranquil grin.
nature beauty-in-nature
The town itself is disagreeable; but then, all around, you find an inexpressible beauty of nature.
That is the earth, he thought. Not a globe thousands of kilometers around, but a forest with a shining lake, a house hidden at the crest of a hill, high in the trees, a grassy slope leading upwards from the water, fish leaping and birds strafing to take the bugs that lived at the border between water and sky. Earth was the constant noise of crickets, and winds, and birds
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Such beauty, he thought, was too perfect to have come about by mere chance. That day in the center of the Pacific was, to him, a gift crafted deliberately, compassionately, for him and Phil. Joyful and grateful in the midst of slow dying, the two men bathed in that day until sunset brought is, and their time in the doldrums, to an end.
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There's one thing you can say for air pollution, you get utterly amazing sunrises.
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