Friends

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the cedars of the East Coast a hundred leagues out. The men of Henry Hudson's Half Moon were temporarily disarmed by the fragrance of the New Jersey shore, while ships

 

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running farther up the coast occasionally swam through large beds of floating flowers. Wherever they came inland they found a rich riot of color and sound, of game and luxuriant vegetation. Had they been other than they were, they might have written a new mythology here. As it was, they took inventory.

 

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I said to myself -- I'll paint what I see -- what the flower is to me but I'll paint it big and they will be surprised into taking time to look at it -- I will make even busy New Yorkers take time to see what I see of flowers.

 

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The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen, nor touched ... but are felt in the heart.

 

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The moment one gives close attention to anything, even a blade of grass, it becomes a mysterious, awesome, indescribably magnificent world in itself.

 

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I'm tired of all this nonsense about beauty being only skin-deep. That's deep enough. What do you want, an adorable pancreas?

 

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A thing of beauty is a joy forever.

 

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Remember that the most beautiful things in the world are the most useless; peacocks and lilies, for example.

 

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Good nature will always supply the absence of beauty; but beauty cannot supply the absence of good nature.

 

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Beauty is eternity gazing at itself in a mirror.

 

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Listen to the Exhortation of the Dawn!
Look to this Day!
For it is Life, the very Life of Life.
In its brief course lie all the
Verities and Realities of your Existence.
The Bliss of Growth,

 

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The Glory of Action,
The Splendor of Beauty;
For Yesterday is but a Dream,
And To-morrow is only a Vision;
But To-day well lived makes
Every Yesterday a Dream of Happiness,
And every Tomorrow a Vision of Hope

 

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Look well therefore to this Day!
Such is the Salutation of the Dawn!

 

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The day I see a leaf is a marvel of a day.

 

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I cannot believe that the inscrutable universe turns on an axis of suffering; surely the strange beauty of the world must somewhere rest on pure joy!

 

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Do you love me because I'm beautiful,
or am I am beautiful because you love me?

 

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The pain passes, but the beauty remains.

 

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It is a wholesome and necessary thing for us to turn again to the earth and in the contemplation of her beauties to know of wonder and humility.

 

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Those who contemplate the beauty of the earth find reserves of strength that will endure as long as life lasts.

 

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Truth, and goodness, and beauty are but different faces of the same all.