Quotes About Darkness

Seek and you shall find the repulsive things you secretly hope to find.

Jednak kiedy udaje si? w uczciw? podró? w g??b siebie, zmuszony jest stwierdzi?, ?e jest tam tak mroczno, i? nie bardzo wiadomo, gdzie cz?owiek trafi?... Mo?na tak dla zabicia czasu, ale ten ucieka na sam nasz widok.

The fear of burglars is not only the fear of being robbed, but also the fear of a sudden and unexpected clutch out of the darkness.

There are no sides in suicide.

There is nothing wrong with being fascinated by the dark side of life, and ourselves, but woe to those who think this is representative of reality. All too many of us sit in our homes watching TV, falling prey to the delusion that the world is getting worse. If these sorry individuals spent more time meeting their neighbors, they'd discover that 95% of their peers are fine people.

The trouble with this, in MacIntyre's opinion, was that all the insistence on the primacy of reason and of "rational debate" had ever achieved was to have erased from men's minds what, since Aristotle, had been the main support for their entire moral, intellectual, and political lives: the concept of virtue. And it had given them nothing in return. Their intellectual "light" was, in fact, nothing other than moral darkness.

Night, when words fade and things come alive.

That was how she saw the storyteller for the last time - in an absolutely silent world, in a staircase. He'd hit his target. When she fell into darkness, she knew that she would never see him again. She'd love him to the very end.

The theater, which is in no thing, but makes use of everything -- gestures, sounds, words, screams, light, darkness -- rediscovers itself at precisely the point where the mind requires a language to express its manifestations. To break through language in order to touch life is to create or recreate the theatre.

I myself am an absolute abyss.

Porque vosotros sois demasiado pacíficos, demasiado insinceros, demasiado fríos. Pero yo estoy ardiendo por dentro; ardiendo con un fuego terrible, que no me deja vivir y que puede haceros arder a todos... Ardiendo en esto que los videntes llaman oscuridad, y que es horroroso..., porque no sabemos lo que es. Yo os voy a traer la guerra, y no la paz.

Neppure un atomo si moveva, nel silenzio grave della notte.

Cuando el sol, frente a mí, irrumpa violento, todo caerá en la sombra otra vez: en la sombra del sol –de eso el que mandó sabe–, en el humo y la niebla.

A heart is made mature by darkness and art.

The attraction of an exotic presence that was intensely carnal and at the same time as intangible as a promise was contained not in her attitude or words but in her very presence, the shape of her face, the color of her hair and eyes, the timbre of her voice, and something else not in her, the promise of so many unfulfilled and often unformed desires in him, roused by her proximity as if by a clap of hands or a voice revealing the dimension of a great area of darkness.

Sometimes at night I light a lamp so as not to see.

Night is a world lit by itself

A veces de noche, enciendo la luz para no ver mi propia oscuridad.

Awakening of the mind is in waking up the kind feelings in the heart with an insight of the soul to distinctly identify and galvanize definitely the shade of darkness created by the colour of happiness.

Waking up to the ground realities of life is like rising up earlier than others in the wee hours of the day only to find the darkness all around with a ray of hope in the form of light coming from the stars & the moon in the sky.

There was no such thing as pure happiness. How many years it took to learn that! Always some dark fretted thing which unbalanced the ease one had laboriously found.

It's been said before: 'The sleep of reason produces monsters.

You are who I love, you struggling to see You struggling to love or find a question You better than me You are who I love weeping or touching the faces of the weeping You noticing the butterflies You in brightness and in darkness, throwing your head back as you laugh, kissing your hand You studying stars, you are who I love

There with vast wings across the canceled skies, There in the sudden blackness the black pall Of nothing, nothing, nothing—nothing at all.