I took this a while back, after reading 'White Oleander' for the fifth time. Amazing book. Really. I recommend you should read it.

'You're beautiful anyway,'
He said, going back to his drawing.
'Theres not much you can do about that.'
I painted Claire's dark hair, layering blue and then brown,
blending in the highlights, catching the red.
'It doesn't mean anything. Only to other people.'
'You say that like it's nothing.'
'It is.'
What was beauty unless you intended to use it,
like a hammer, or a key?
It was just something for other people to use and admire, or envy, despise.
To nail their dreams onto like a
picture hanger on a blank wall.
And so many girls saying, use me, dream me.
'You've never been ugly.'