It is amazing how complete is the delusion that beauty is goodness.

It seems to me that what we call beauty in a face lies in the smile: if the smile heightens the charm of the face, the face is a beautiful one; if it does not alter it, the face is ordinary, and if it is spoilt by a smile, it is ugly.

All the diversity, all the charm, and all the beauty of life are made up of light and shade.

Every man had his personal habits, passions, and impulses toward goodness, beauty, and truth.

But the princess had never seen the beautiful expression of her eyes; the expression that came into them when she was not thinking of herself. As is the case with everyone, her face assumed an affected, unnatural, ugly expression as soon as she looked in the looking glass.

But there was something in her higher than what surrounded her. There was in her the glow of the real diamond among glass imitations.

Can it be that there is not enough space for man in this beautiful world, under those immeasurable, starry heavens? Is it possible that man's heart can harbour, amid such ravishing natural beauty, feelings of hatred, vengeance, or the desire to destroy his fellows? All the evil in man, one would think, should disappear on contact with Nature, the most spontaneous expression of beauty and goodness.

We call beauty that which supplies us with a particular pleasure.