Quotes About Dusk

He is looking down at her peaceful, rigid face fading into the dusk as though darkness were a precursor of the ultimate earth, until at last the face seems to float detached upon it, lightly as the reflection of a dead leaf.

They have thundered past now and crashed silently on into the dusk; night has finally come. Yet he still sits at the study window, the street lamp at the corner flickers and glares, so that the bitter shadows of the unwinded maples seem to toss faintly upon the August darkness.

The sun in the west was a drop of burning gold that slid nearer and nearer the sill of the world.

The sun in the west was a drop of burning gold that slid nearer and nearer the sill of the world. All at once they were aware of the evening as the end of light and warmth.

Dark came early and stayed full of lights and the shouts of children.

Twilight, even remembered twilight, is better than no light at all. It would be equally absurd to say that there is nothing we can learn from the revolution. To deny that the sumerki of October can be ours, and that it need not always be followed by night.

Twilight, even remembered twilight, is better than no light at all.

Driving from the shop by the beach to her home in the Malibu hills, Juliet Weston peered through the deepening dusk and weighed the merits of bathing in Super Glue. A dab would repair a fingernail. She'd read a line of the stuff could close a wound. What she faced was more dire, however. Would immersion in a tub of maximum-hold adhesive keep he from fracturing into a thousand little pieces?

Driving from the shop by the beach to her home in the Malibu hills, Juliet Weston peered through the deepening dusk and weighed the merits of bathing in Super Glue. A dab would repair a fingernail. She'd read a line of the stuff could close a wound. What she faced was more dire, however. Would immersion in a tub of maximum-hold adhesive keep her from fracturing into a thousand little pieces?

Dusk softens the sharp points of trees outside my window; the sky slowly darkens, then blackens around an orb of moon. Hours later, a faint blue tinge yields to the soft pastels of dawn, and soon enough sun is streaming in, the stop-start rhythm of the train making it all feel like still photography, thousands of images that taken together create a scene in motion.

Perhaps it was evening, the bruised plum of dusk

Now the light is thickening into real dusk and it starts to rain. And with the rain and the dusk comes the smell of autumn. It makes me shiver happily.

The sun has set behind the trees. Afternoon has now turned to evening. The sparrows are silent, nested up under the eaves for the night. It is time for Pat's final meal.

Tu pleures, tant ta peine est grande, Dans un désert, sans rien savoir… Et moi, debout auprès du soir, Je suis triste comme une offrande

The dusky night rides down the sky,And ushers in the morn;The hounds all join in glorious cry,The huntsman winds his horn,And a-hunting we will go.

He loved the twilight that surrounds The border-land of old romance; Where glitter hauberk, helm, and lance, And banner waves, and trumpet sounds, And ladies ride with hawk on wrist, And mighty warriors sweep along, Magnified by the purple mist, The dusk of centuries and of song.

Light was leaking out of the sky, and the fun was leaking out of the afternoon.

The sun's last finger let go of the pine up there. The sun fell behind the hills. A few drops of blood splashed the sky. Night washed them out with her grey hand.

when the dying sun bled the blue sky orange.

There is only one day left, always starting over: It is given to us at dawn and taken away from us at dusk.

Night is falling: at dusk, you must have good eyesight to be able to tell the Good Lord from the Devil.

The evening shadows made my home look as if it were dying.

The sun was just starting to sink below the trees.

The setting sun had turned the blue sky a brilliant orange, then soft pink merging to pearl; the plum velvet of night had come out of the east, spangled with stars.