Quotes About Dusk

That evening, rowing on the quiet river as sunset turned to dusk, I saw an occasional smoky smudge on the towpath, always slightly ahead of me, like a dark star guiding me home.

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

But even the longest day wears to sunset.

I looked up then, out the far window, and there, just within sight, the sun was going down across the river. It was dull red, no longer shining over the land, its ray brought home to roost, contained within its sphere. The sky was streaked with lavendar, a pulsing pale blue, purple and smudged pink and orange melding into one another all the way to the horizon.

All day the blanket snapped and swelled on the line, roused by a hot spring wind.... From there it witnessed the first sparrow, early flies lifting their sticky feet, and a green haze on the south-sloping hills. Clouds rose over the mountain....At dusk I took the blanket in, and we slept, restless, under its fragrant weight.

the mind is its own beautiful prisoner. Mind looked long at the sticky moon opening in dusk her new wings then decently hanged himself,one afternoon. The last thing he saw was you naked amid unnaked things...

Oh, there IS one, of course, but you'll never know it. The assertion, laughingly flung out six months earlier in a bright June garden, came back to Mary Boyne with a sharp perception of its latent significance as she stood, in the December dusk, waiting for the lamps to be brought into the library.

In the first dusk he walks back. Flowers and fallen confetti, from a wedding two days earlier, lie trodden on the wet grass and he knows in his heart that he is sure who he man was, but that nobody in the whole world, not even Tommy, not even Ivan, would believe him.

The flutter of the leaves brought on your trance. Hundreds of thousands of sycamore leaves all obeying the same wind, their wide green palms opening then tightening, letting in and keeping out the light, changing the prospect from outdoor to indoor, forever altering. It was the most lonesome hour just before dusk with all the colors going, all the streamers , the pinks and reds, and violets and indigos and blues, the lovely laneways of vanquishing light.

The light is fading from the day. The rest is darkness and dismay.

It was twilight and the stars were quite evident in the sky. The moon, still low, was behind Skiffington and only Barnum could see it.

una muchacha en llamas al borde de la noche.

Dusk" The shadow covers the outer petals The wind makes off with the final gestures of leaves The foreign, now twice-silenced sea inside a summer pitied for its lights A longing from here A memory from there

The sky broke like an egg into full sunset and the water caught fire.

First there was nothing. Then there was everything. Then, in a park above a western city after dusk, the air is raining messages.

Ask anybody, they'll all tell you. The evening's the best part of the day.

At dusk the hunter took his prey, The lark his freedom never. All birds and men are sure to die But songs may live forever.

What looked like morning was the beginning of endless night

The shadows of twilight grow, And the tiger's ancient fierceness In my veins begins to flow.

Her eyes as stars of Twilight fair;

The Anishinaabeg world undulated between material and spiritual shadows, never clear which was more prominent at any time. It was as if the world rested in those periods rather than in the light of day. Dawn and dusk, biidaaban, mooka'ang. The gray of sky and earth was just the same, and the distinction between the worlds was barely discernible.

Smudges of darkness were beginning to collect around the roots of the trees, but they were still faint, as if the night had agreed to hold off for a bit longer.

For Stephen, London was less a city that never slept, more a city that got a good nine hours.

When the light has fled but the stars have not yet shown themselves. That is the gloaming, the loveliest and saddest hour of the day.