I don't know what it means and I don't care because it's Shakespeare and it's like having jewels in my mouth when I say the words.

Real beauty has no boundaries’.

Never before had I known the sudden quiver of understanding that travels from word to brain to heart, the way a new language can move, coil, swim into life under the eyes, the almost savage leap of comprehension, the instantaneous, joyful release of meaning, the way the words shed their printed bodies in a flash of heat and light.

Summer afternoon, summer afternoon; to me those have always been the two most beautiful words in the English language

Beauty doesn't have to be about anything. What's a vase about? What's a sunset or a flower about? What, for that matter, is Mozart's Twenty-third Piano Concerto about?

If ever you are to be visited by the Holy Ghost, you should make certain you're sitting beside a fireman.