Exuberance is beauty.

Exuberance to me early meant ecstacy of love, the poetic principle of life.

Of surpassing beauty and in the bloom of youth.

Beauty is an ecstasy; it is as simple as hunger. There is really nothing to be said about it. It is like the perfume of a rose: you can smell it and that is all.

Beauty is a free spirit and will not be trapped within the grid of intentionality.

I'm always about optimism and exuberance. It's what I feel about fashion.

A beauty neither of fine colour nor long eyelash, nor pencilled brow, but of meaning, of movement, of radiance.

Diversity emanates beauty.

Beauty is the promise of happiness.

Beauty is a promise of happiness.

Beauty is a kind of supplement to being, a radiance that is added to being.

This is the beauty I want. Beauty has got to be astonishing, astounding — it's got to burst in on you like a dream, like the exquisite eyes of a girl.

Frequently, beauty is playful like dancing sunlight, it cannot be predicted, and in the most unlikely scene or situation can suddenly emerge. This spontaneity and playfulness often subverts our self-importance and throws our plans and intentions into disarray. Without intending it, we find ourselves coming alive with a sense of celebration and delight. The pedestrian sequence of a working day breaks, a new door opens and the heart recognizes the silent majesty of the ordinary. The things we never notice, like health, friends and love, emerge from their subdued presence and stand out in their true radiance as gifts we could never have earned or achieved.

Imperfection is beauty, madness is genius and it’s better to be absolutely ridiculous than absolutely boring.