Quotes About Darkness

Life is a message scribbled in the dark.

The sun in my life, it is gone, it is gone

This day is going to be awful. It's the sort of day you wouldn't mind losing completely, even if it meant your life would be twenty-four hours shorter.

You can't understand light unless you understand darkness, because that's where life is most often lived - somewhere between the two. It's messy and it's beautiful all at the same time.

The nightmare Life-in-Death was she.

Granny Weatherwax, who had walked nightly without fear in the bandit-haunted forests of the mountains all her life in the certain knowledge that the darkness held nothing more terrible than she was.

Some people prefer the finer things in life, I'm alright just hanging out with the ghost of Vincent Price

What fun is life without a little death?

It is spring, moonless night in the small town, starless and bible-black.

Looking through my bedroom window, out into the moonlight and the unending smoke-colored snow, I could see the lights in the windows of all the other houses on our hill and hear the music rising from them up the long, steadily falling night. I turned the gas down, I got into bed. I said some words to the close and holy darkness, and then I slept.

The crisp path through the field in this December snow, in the deep dark, where we trod the buried grass like ghosts on dry toast.

Tell him I write of worms and corruption, because I like worms and corruption. Tell him I believe in the fundamental wickedness and worthlessness of man, & in the rot in life. Tell him I am all for cancers. And tell him, too, that I loathe poetry. I'd prefer to be an anatomist or the keeper of a morgue any day. Tell him I live exclusively on toenails and rumours. I sleep in a coffin too, and a wormy shroud is my summer suit.

I am going into the darkness of the darkness for ever.

Non andartene docile in quella buona notte, Benché i saggi conoscano alla fine che la tenebra è giusta infuria, infuria, contro il morire della luce.

Dark is a way and light is a place, / Heaven that never was / Nor will be ever is always true.

Good and bad, two ways Of moving about your death By the grinding sea, King of your heart in the blind days, Blow away like breath, Go crying through you and me And the souls of all men Into the innocent Dark, and the guilty dark, and good Death, and bad death, and then In the last element Fly like the stars' blood

I want to die, sometimes, my head hurts so much. I keep writing you all my brightest thoughts but I never say the dark ones, even though I think them all the time. So I am saying them now. Even if you do not answer, I will know somebody heard them, and that, at least, is something.

O for the night that was ending, for the sleep and the wakefulness, the toughness and tenderness mixed, the sweet temper, the safety in darkness. Would such a night ever return?

I lie in my darkened room. Scavenger birds peck at the oozing matter that leaks from my crushed skull.

to descend from bright heaven to earth, whereon there are shadows because there are hills…

The volume of their past must be restored to its shelf, and here, here was the place, amid darkness and perishing flowers.

The volume of their past must be restored to its shelf, and here, here was the place, amid darkness and perishing flowers. He owed it to Alec also. He could suffer no mixing of the old in the new.

I will take the sun in my mouth and leap into the ripe air Alive with closed eyes to dash against darkness

A negação nunca sai de um raciocínio mas sim de algo obscuro e antigo. Os argumentos vêm depois, para a justificar e apoiar. Todo o não surge do sangue.