Beauty is compared to a freshly plucked gardenia..when they are exhausted on the bush, and the bruised flowers lay on the ground, they haunt the air with their sweet decay. Beauty therefore, is a perfectness that no one could ever fathom. Its loveliness increases and it will never pass into nothingness. Its criterion is that, it increases on examination, of false that it lessens..It is a whole series of untested laws of behavior that becomes a freemasonry of cunning and design.
I reckon that a woman of a true, outrageous beauty is a warrior of inalienable talents.She has the capacity to excel in various occupations. She should prosper as a princess in an obscure Himalayan tribe, an assassin of a gangster criminal, a fierce fire eater, a wife of a corrupt third-world government official or a belly dancer who brought the heads of saints to kings with a beauty powerful enough to lure and inspire the demonic lust of a homicidal giant out of the woods of Calcutta.
There is more to beauty than the foreign aid of ornaments.A woman adorning her glorious curls with a single blossom is still an act of indescribable delicacy and beauty than a woman wearing a make up artfully applied on her face. Like every cliches in this world: Beauty without virtue is like a flower without perfume. There is something therefore in true beauty that corresponds to the right reason and it is not merely the object of fancy.

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