Quotes About Dusk

The night is just a part of the day

The sky had dropped a curtain on the sun.

It was @ 1900h., not yet true twilight, but the only thing left of the sunset was a snout just over Newton, and the places under long shadows were cold, and a certain kind of melancholy sadness was insinuating itself into the grounds' light.

Finish, good lady; the bright day is done, And we are for the Dark.

That will be ere the set of sun.

Ju? si? ?ciemnia?o, ju? prawie by?o ciemno. I wilgotno. Gdzie Fryderyk?

The sun was beginning to pull the curtains on the day.

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.

My words verge on silence like great birds that disappear into the early evening: their strenuous white wings carry off the intense sweetness of dusk, visible then in starlight. My words turn toward the night with no look back at what is lost or won, or what is missing, — Cinto Vitier, from "Greater Solitude," transl. Kathleen Weaver, Image: Art, Faith, Mystery (no. 65, Spring 2010)

Every day it will be the same thing: at dusk I begin to feel melancholy and pensive.

The sun, having set not too long ago, left a purplish stain on the sky.

If there were no sun, all the stars would not suffice to prevent its being night.

The sun set without pomp—it just got dark.

Na aldeia, o dia inteiro fica escuro, disse ele. Não amanhece e nem anoitece. Não há um alvorecer e nem um entardecer. O crepúsculo está no rosto das pessoas.

They are twilight creatures, beings of dawn and dusk, of standing between one thing and another, of not quite and almost, of borderlands and shadows.

the dress clings to my chest and waist, skirt flaring over my hips. The tattered edges give it a haunting elegance, as though I am wrapped in the shadows of dusk. I look the picture of mysterious courtier, rather than someone who sleeps in dirt.

The setting sun has lit the sky on fire, set the tops of the trees ablaze.

An ombre ball gown, its colour deepening from white near my throat, through palest blue to deepest indigo at my feet. Over that is stitched the stark outlines of trees, the way I see them from my window as dusk is falling. The seamstress has even sewn on little crystal beads to represent stars. This is a dress I could never have imagined, one so perfect that for a moment, looking at it, I can think of nothing but its beauty.

An ombré ball gown, its color deepening from white near my throat, through palest blue to deepest indigo at my feet. Over that is stitched the stark outlines of trees, the way I see them from my window as dusk is falling. The seamstress has even sewn on little crystal beads to represent stars.

What a thing of fantasy a woman may become after dusk.

AMUSING MYSELF Facing my wine, I did not see the dusk, Falling blossoms have filled the folds of my clothes. Drunk, I rise and approach the moon in the stream, Birds are far off, people too are few.

I always prefer socializing at night-it is implicitly more wanton

The sun had fallen below the horizon, but still lit the sky in an orange chemical streak more beautiful than nature.

when evening fell and the grey twilight spread its dusky robe upon the waters, she stretched her arms out to the silent river that had known her sorrow and her joy. And the old river had taken her into its gentle arms, and had laid her weary head upon its bosom, and had hushed away the pain.