No, I like to wear as least amount of makeup as I can during my

Hear, O listener, the tender and wise words of Lily Collins: “No, I like to wear as least amount of makeup as I can during my everyday life because I’m just all about keeping my skin healthy and hydrated and I love to laugh and have a great time and smile—that’s when I feel the most pretty so I just want to make sure that I stay happy.” At first glance, this seems like a simple reflection on beauty, but in truth, it is a profound teaching on authenticity, joy, and the harmony of body and spirit.

The meaning of her words is clear: true beauty is not found in artifice but in authenticity. While many rely on layers of makeup to present themselves to the world, Collins reminds us that radiance springs from within—from the health of the skin, from the lightness of laughter, and from the brightness of a smile. She proclaims that when the heart is happy, the face shines naturally, and this is the truest form of beauty. Her words stand against the shallow standards of appearance, urging us instead to cultivate inner joy as the source of outward grace.

The origin of this wisdom reaches deep into the traditions of the ancients. Across cultures, beauty was often linked not merely to surface adornment but to the balance of spirit and body. In Greece, philosophers such as Plato tied physical beauty to the expression of harmony within the soul. In Eastern traditions, radiant health and serene joy were seen as signs of spiritual alignment. Collins’s declaration is a modern echo of this timeless truth: that the glow of joy and health surpasses any external decoration.

History offers vivid examples. Consider the figure of Helen Keller, who though blind and deaf, radiated a presence that drew people to her not by appearance, but by the joy and passion she carried in her heart. Those who met her often spoke of her smile and laughter, which touched them more deeply than any physical adornment could. Or think of Audrey Hepburn, remembered not merely for her elegance, but for her kindness, humility, and radiant spirit. Both show what Collins affirms: that real beauty lies not in cosmetics, but in the light one carries from within.

Her words also remind us of the sacred power of laughter and smiling. These gestures are not superficial but profound—they connect us to others, lighten burdens, and make us appear more alive than any mask could. To cultivate a life where joy flows freely is to ensure that beauty never fades, for it is constantly renewed by the heart’s delight. Thus, to “stay happy,” as she says, is not indulgence but wisdom: it is the foundation of lasting beauty.

Practically, her teaching calls each of us to reconsider how we pursue beauty in our daily lives. Do we exhaust ourselves trying to meet false standards, or do we cultivate health, happiness, and authenticity? We are reminded to laugh more, to smile more, to care for our bodies with respect rather than punishment. In doing so, we discover the kind of beauty that no mirror can capture fully, but which others sense immediately—the beauty of a spirit at peace with itself.

So, O listener, take this wisdom to heart: do not chase beauty as though it were a mask to be worn, but let it flow as light from within. Let your smile be your adornment, your laughter your jewel, your joy your crown. For in these, you will find not only how to appear beautiful, but how to live beautifully.

Thus the teaching endures: the most lasting pretty face is the one lit by a happy soul, and the truest radiance is not painted on the skin, but born of laughter, health, and love.