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"It was the kind of moonthat I would want to send back to my ancestorsand gift to my descendantsso they know that I too,have been bruised...by beauty."
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"Then, were not summer's distillation leftA liquid prisoner pent in walls of glass,Beauty's effect with beauty were bereft,Nor it nor no remembrance what it was.But flowers distilled, though they with winter meet,Leese but their show; their substance still lives sweet."
"Be beautiful and you are doing your part to create a more beautiful world."
"Silent as a flower, her face fell in dismay, aware that the ghost of lust ate and left, sensing that there was a different scent of perfume consuming the room, and that she had numbered and counted the he loves me, he loves me not of each petal, where the lifeless dust had settle."
"What is your substance, whereof are you made,That millions of strange shadows on you tend?Since everyone hath every one, one shade,And you, but one, can every shadow lend.Describe Adonis, and the counterfeitIs poorly imitated after you.On Helen's cheek all art of beauty set,And you in Grecian tires are painted new.Speak of the spring and foison of the year;The one doth shadow of your beauty show,The other as your bounty doth appear,And you in every blessA d shape we know.In all external grace you have some part,But you like none, none you, for constant heart."
"If you look at old pictures, Irene Casey is so pretty. Not just young, but pretty the way you look when your face goes smooth, the skin around your eyes and lips relaxed, the pretty you only look when you love the person taking the picture."
"World will be a beautiful place only with beautiful minds!"
Explore more quotes by Sanober Khan
"Give mea moon-blanket nightto keep me warma long-gone smileto comfort mea pair of rain-blue eyesto haunt mea simple soul...to love me."
"You are ever the only onei want to giveall the peachesin my heart tothe only one by whomi want them bruised."
"Hands. Cheeks. Eyes. Lips.Neck. Ears.Thighs.Heart. Soul.Ahh!the things I get tosavor you with."
"There are some poemsthat we leave behindsome that leave us behindwhile some just livesilentlyin the heartcrumble, sometimesdwindledisappeardieand are rebornwhen you smile again."
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