Quotes About Darkness

You are like a child who whistles in the dark. As though the dark cared, my poor child, as though the dark cared.

The youthfull knight could not for ought be staide, But forth vnto the darksome hole he went, And looked in:his glistring armor made A litle glooming light, much like a shade

I hate the day, because it lendeth lightTo see all things, and not my love to see.

I hate the day, because it lendeth light To see all things, but not my love to see.

Darkness is drawn to light, but light does not know it; light must absorb the darkness and therefore meet its own extinguishment.

Death devours all lovely things;Lesbia with her sparrowShares the darkness—presentlyEvery bed is narrow.

I shall think of you Whenever I am most happy, whenever I am Most sad, whenever I see a beautiful thing. You are a burning lamp to me, a flame The wind cannot blow out, and I shall hold you High in my hand against whatever darkness.

Night falls fast. Today is in the past.

Down, down, down into the darkness of the grave Gently they go, the beautiful, the tender, the kind; Quietly they go, the intelligent, the witty, the brave. I know. But I do not approve. And I am not resigned.

Learn to love blackness while there is yet time, blackness Unpatterned, blackness without horizons.

The sun that warmed our stooping backs and withered the weed uprooted- We shall not feel it again. We shall die in darkness, and be buried in the rain.

Death devours all lovely things: Lesbia with her sparrow Shares the darkness - presently Every bed is narrow. Unremembered as old rain Dries the sheer libation; And the little petulant hand Is an annotation. After all, my erstwhile dear, My no longer cherished, Need we say it was not love, Just because it perished? — Edna St. Vincent Millay, "Passer Mortuus Est," Second April . (New York: Mitchell Kennerley, 1921)

Few Come This Way Few come this way; not that the darkness Deters them, but they come Reluctant here who fear to find, Thickening the darkness, what they left behind Sucking its cheeks before the fire at home, The palsied Indecision from whose dancing head Precipitately they fled, only to come again Upon him here, Clutching at the wrist of Venture with a cold Hand, aiming to fall in with him, companion Of the new as of the old.

Some things are Dark Some things are dark --- or think they are. But, in comparison to me, All things are light enough to see In any place, at any hour. For I am Nightmare: where I fly, Terror and rain stand in the sky So thick, you could not tell them from That blackness out of which you come. So much for ``where I fly'': but when I strike, and clutch in claw the brain--- Erebus, to such brain, will seem The thin blue dusk of pleasant dream.

Night falls fast. Today is in the past. Blown from the dark hill hither to my door Three flakes, then four Arrive, then many more.

Sickness, insanity and death were the angels that surrounded my cradle and they have followed me throughout my life.

Gaze not too long into the abyss, lest the abyss gaze into thee.

You can't study the darkness by flooding it with light.

It was a dark and stormy night; the rain fell in torrents, except at occasional intervals, when it was checked by a violent gust of wind which swept up the streets (for it is in London that our scene lies), rattling along the housetops, and fiercely agitating the scanty flame of the lamps that struggled against the darkness.

What casual monsters we are. What calamities we are capable of.

In space no one can hear you scream.

All the powers of darkness vanish; Christ our Day-Star mounts the skies.

Watchman, what of the night?

Lighten our darkness, we beseech thee, O Lord; and by thy great mercy defend us from all perils and dangers of this night.