Beauty (n.) is veiled in its ideal form: the moon through clouds, the sea in its half-transparency, the wife through the veil of modesty.
Beauty (n.) increases with the years in a woman; the first beauty of youth is a husk, a mantle, out of which the true beauty develops only before the husband's grateful eyes.
Beauty (n.) grows in aesthetic significance the further it gets from the sensuous — otherwise the instinct of the beast would be the most aesthetic thing of all.
Beauty (n.) consists in acquiring the immediate in and with doubt — not in becoming someone else through doubt.
Beauty (n.) at its highest is not to be heard about, read about, or seen, but may be lived.
Beauty (n.) as a life view is a very fragile good — seldom carried through; the old countess's whole philosophy was that she and her husband were the handsomest couple in the land.
Beauty (n.) seen ethically lacks the trace of sadness inseparable from all beauty of nature and art, even the eternal youth of the Greek gods; it is joyful, victorious, stronger than the world.
Beauty (n.) faded by grief over an unhappy love is, to the ethical eye, no loss: 'and there the story ends' — yet she seems more beautiful than ever.
Beauty (n.) that must reign yields a synthesis from which spirit is excluded — the secret of Greek culture, whose plastic calm trembled with an anxiety it scarcely knew.
Beauty (n.) is desecrated by knowledge of it; the lily is beautiful without knowing.