Quotes About Evening

Twilight fell, bye and bye, and then the dark shadows of night.

Prayer is the key of the morning and the bolt of the evening.

Transformation, on the other hand, is creating beauty from horror or destruction (or, for beginners, an actually pleasant evening with the usual family problems).

O, thou art fairer than the evening air clad in the beauty of a thousand stars.

You are the promised kiss of springtime that makes the lonely winter seem long. You are the breathless hush of evening that trembles on the brink of a lovely song.

Of course. Please, sit. Do you want a cupcake?" The entire evening suddenly felt surreal. I was drunk off my ass, offering a djinn a cupcake.

Now all I know how to do is to grow dark in the evening. I'm happy with what I've got. And all I wish to say is my name and address, and perhaps my father's name, like a prisoner of war who, according to the Geneva Convention, is not required to say a single word more.

I am alone. It is evening. There is a light fog. The sky is covered by a thin milky-golden tissue. If I only knew what is there—higher. If I only knew who I am. Which I am I?

It gets late early around here...

It gets late early out there.

That evening we sat around the campfire. The clouds that had gathered overhead all day broke up and the moonlight shimmered on the Cocus River. The current glittered a silvery reflection. Nor was the Jungle dark. Hundreds of fireflies danced about - it was a magnificent evening

It was that strange moment, poised on the edge of evening, when lights are still unnecessary, when even in the midst of a convivial gathering, one may be caught by a vague intimation of precariousness.

If only summer would end. The very word "summer" carried with it festering thoughts of death. And in the evening sun she felt a festering warmth.

Clouds, this evening The same as always, like thirst, The same red dress, unfastened. Imagine, passerby, Our new beginnings, our eagerness, our trust.

Since fire's born of fire, why should we desire To gather up its scattered ash. On the appointed day we surrendered what we were To a vaster blaze, the evening sky.

I can see from that glint in your bleary eyes you want to light your second cigar of the evening and summon a few demons. Oh don't deny it... don't deny it... like all people who feel uncomfortable in an uncomfortable world you want to make a map. Well let me tell you it is difficult to make a map in splintered times when whole worlds and histories collide.

The roses tremble; oh, the sunflower's eye Is opened wide in sad expectancy. Westward and back the circling swallows fly, The rooks' battalions dwindle near the hill. That low pulsation in the east is war: No bell now breaks the evening's silent dream. The bloodless clarity of evening's sky Betrays no whisper of the battle-scream.

Lamaze expects the husband, me, to be there, so that I can witness this festivity. I did not want to be there. This was remarkably painful for my wife. There was nothing my presence could really do to relieve her pain. In other words, I didn't see why my evening should be ruined too.

The light at dusk was a low blaze, a brightness.

Thank you, 4:00 p.m., for being the time of day that thoroughly confuses me: post-homework and pre-dinner. I am already exhausted and fairly irritable. The children are losing their ever-loving minds, and husband is still tucked away in his sane office with all mental faculties intact and won't answer my SOS texts to hurry and come home or their blood is on your hands. Do I make a coffee? Or pour a glass of wine? Yours, Witching-Hour Survivor.

Good evening," he whispered, just a touch too close to her ear to be proper. She turned toward him with a blush and he finally had the pleasure of seeing the color of her eyes. Jade green. Magnificent. Even if this woman proved to be an unattainable challenge, he'd certainly chosen well. "G-Good evening," she stammered as she straightened up to smooth the front of the gown that matched those jade eyes perfectly.

Sir, no amount of money, no matter how vast, could induce me to stroll, perambulate, promenade, or engage in any form of locomotion with you whatsoever. Good evening.

This was my evening out: bopping back and forth, away from whichever convo made me the most uncomfortable.

My apartment was just as I had left it, except that now the empty bottles and chaos of discarded outfits looked like the hopeful prelude to a ruined evening.