Quotes About Dusk

Edge of Things" I wait at the twilit edge of things, A dry spell spilling over into drought, The slippages of shadow silting in, The interchange of dusk to duskier, The half-dark turning half-again as dark. There: night enough to call it a good night. I wait for the resurrection, but wake to morning: Mist lifting off the river. Ladders in the orchard trees although the picking's done.

streaks of scarlet and gold were staining the blue.

The sun gets better at setting.

never again did I see Henry making across the Common after dusk. Perhaps he was ashamed at what he had told me, for he was a very conventional man. I write the adjective with a sneer, and yet if I examine myself I find only admiration and trust for the conventional, like the villages one sees from the high road where the cars pass, looking so peaceful in their thatch and stone, suggesting rest.

The sky, they thought, was particularly breathtaking at twilight; it was their magic hour, when everything looked perfect and they felt anything was possible.

Last thing, at dusk, I leaned out the hotel window, like a seal sticking halfway out of the concave comber it is riding.

Surely no one can be sure he has visited Cienega; people say to themselves, do they not: 'Was it a vision; or have I, some time or other, seen dusk in a valley like this?'

How heron comes It is a negligence of the mind not to notice how at dusk heron comes to the pond and stands there in his death robes, perfect servant of the system, hungry, his eyes full of attention, his wings pure light

a dream half-waking, broken and uneasy, of the small gods of small places; gods of hills and woods and streams and crossways; the gods who still haunt their broken shrines, waiting in the dusk beyond the lights of the busy Christian churches, and the dogged rituals of the greater gods of Rome.

The snow that began at midafternoon had faded the sign's virulent yellow to a kinder pastel shade as the light ran out of the January dusk.

I used to smoke marijuana. But I'll tell you something: I would only smoke it in the late evening. Oh, occasionally the early evening, but usually the late evening – or the mid-evening. Just the early evening, midevening and late evening. Occasionally, early afternoon, early midafternoon, or perhaps the late-midafternoon. Oh, sometimes the early-mid-late-early morning. . . . But never at dusk.

Um dia sem sol é como, você sabe, noite.

El anochecer siempre era una hora pésima par alas decisiones. la llegada de la noche esparcía sombras por doquiera, y los ánimos se hundían, preñados de pesimismo.

Los monos cantaban cerca de la casa en la madrugada, y un poco más tristes al atardecer, y eso contribuía a que se acentuara más la sensación de la soledad y el misterio, y la emoción de la vida salvaje.

La sera perfeziona l'opera grezza cominciata al risveglio, a cielo ancora buio. La sera smussa, dà l'ultima mano di cartavetra fina al giorno fatto a mano.

London that evening

It's a cruel season that makes you get ready for bed while it's light out.

It's a cruel season that makes you get ready for bed while it's light out.

A good day is one where I can not just read a book, but write a review of it. Maybe today I'll be able to do that. I get for some reason somewhat stronger when the sun starts to go down. Dusk is a good time for me. I'm crepuscular.

Within a few moments the last of day became the first of night, a magic as peculiar and welcome as any other.

Le soleil, plus bas, semblait saigner.

When art becomes independent and paints its world in dazzling colors, a moment of life has grown old. Such a moment cannot be rejuvenated by dazzling colors, it can only be evoked in memory. The greatness of art only emerges at the dusk of life.

But the ship swept on, and the dusk hushed the hum of the day, and the first stars above blinked answers to the early fireflies on the banks as that jungle fell far behind, leaving only its fragrance as a memory that it had been.

The sun was now in its death throes, bruising the sky a coiling purple and orange.