Their beauty, after all, was their only weapon, and when he discovered that that weapon was not of pure steel, they became nothing; it was like pushing them away with an arm of infinite length.
There was food for criticism in Sally's features.

The nose, of course, was tipped up a bit, and the mouth too large, but Anthony discovered that it was almost impossible to centre his criticism on either feature.
The tip-tilt of the nose suggested a quaint and infinitely buoyant spirit; the mouth, if generously wide, was exquisitely made.

She was certainly not pretty, but he began to feel with equal certainty that she was beautiful.
A waiting mood came on him while he watched, as one waits through a great symphony and endures the monotonous passages for the sake of the singing bursts of harmony to which the commoner parts are a necessary background.

He began to wish that she would turn her head so that he could see her eyes.

They were like the inspired part of that same symphony, a beauty which could not be remembered and was always new, satisfying.