Quotes About Darkness

El campo de olivos se abre y se cierra como un abanico. Sobre el olivar hay un cielo hundido y una lluvia oscura de luceros fríos. Tiembla junco y penumbra a la orilla del río. Se riza el aire gris. Los olivos, están cargados de gritos. Una bandada de pájaros cautivos, que mueven sus larguísimas colas en lo sombrío.

La noche no quiere venir para que tu no vengas, ni yo pueda ir. Pero yo iré, aunque un sol de alacranes me coma la sien. Pero tu vendrás con la lengua quemada por la lluvia de sal. El día no quiere venir para que tu no vengas, ni yo pueda ir. Pero yo iré entregando a los sapos mi mordido clavel. Pero tu vendrás por las turbias cloacas de la oscuridad. Ni la noche ni el día quieren venir para que por ti muera y tú mueras por mí.

Siete gritos, siete sangres, siete adormideras dobles, quebraron opacas lunas en los oscuros salones.

Dio deve avermi lasciata sola nelle tenebre, perché ti vedo come se non ti avessi mai vista.

y en el oscurísimo beso punzante debajo de las almohadas. Pero a viejo de las manos traslúcidas dirá: Amor, amor, amor, aclamado por millones de moribundos;

El silencio redondo de la noche sobre el pentágrama del infinito.

Siete gritos, siete sangres, siete dormideras dobles, quebraron opacas lunas en los oscuros salones.

Vamos al rincón oscuro, donde yo siempre te quiera, que no me importe la gente, ni el veneno que nos echa.

Grief is love's alter ego, after all, yin to its yang, the necessary other; like night, grief has its own dark beauty. How may we know light without knowledge of dark? How may we know love without sorrow? "The disorientation following such loss can be terrible, I know" Wendell Berry wrote me on learning of Larry's death. "But grief gives the full measure of love, and it is somehow reassuring to learn, even by suffering, how large, and powerful love is.

Ante mis ojos, inútilmente abiertos, se extiende la noche profunda, la noche vacía, el negro definitivo donde todo lo que alienta, tarde o temprano, se deshace.

And Nuria again saw hundreds, thousands, millions of slimy, horrible salamanders all around her

El café debía ser caliente como el amor, dulce como el pecado y negro como el infierno.

de rencor en rencor me fui adentrando en la noche oscura del odio, donde dispersas brillaban una que otra chispita de amor. El amor, pienso yo, sólo vale así. El que quiere a todo el mundo no quiere a nadie.

El hombre en lo más hondo de lo más honde de su alma oscura es un ser malo, y mientras uno más vive y más lo conoce más malo es.

The 'wrong thing' happened, we are now told, during the 'dark flush of night' (527.07). A flush usually brings colour to cheeks, so a dark flush is a mild oxymoron, like a dark light, and is all the more suggestive, since the dark flush of night is probably an erotically charged flush.

Outside a new dark was falling, a dark Charlie didn't know yet. He walked carefully, wheeling the bike. Like everything else here, the street lamps had bigger kingdoms and the pools of shadow between them fell wider and deeper than he was used. to.

It is 5 a.m. All the worse things come stalking in and stand icily about the bed looking worse and worse and worse. -From the poem Fear

I'm a light sleeper. I've never been one of those people who can put their head down and suddenly everything disappears. Nighttime is the time I get most scared, anxious or worried. In those darker moments before waking or sleeping is when I feel most, I don't know, I can turn on myself, and my imagination can take me dark places.

Sweet Mother, sweet Mother, send your child unto me, for the sins of the unworthy must be baptized in blood and fear.

While mankind tends toward evil, the legislators yearn for good; while mankind advances toward darkness, the legislators aspire for enlightenment; while mankind is drawn toward vice, the legislators are attracted toward virtue. Since they have decided that this is the true state of affairs, they then demand the use of force in order to substitute their own inclinations for those of the human race.

Le bonheur est une chose si monstrueuse que, si vous n'en crevez pas vous-même, il exigera de vous au moins quelques assassinats. »

By the time dusk fell, he was back in his room. The last of the daylight lay like fine ashes on the roof-tops. He did not light his lamp, but sat by the fireplace in the dark, seeking in the far distance of his past some vague memory of a love-affair, some recollection of a friendship, with which to soften the hard tyranny of isolation.

J'ai hurlé dans le noir des parois de mon ventre quand j'ai demandé après toi. L'enfermée le sang la tache.

I am not good. Something in Faith's head broke free, beating black wings into the sky. Nobody good could feel what I feel. I am wicked and deceitful and full of rage. I cannot be saved. She did not feel hot or helpless any more. She felt the way snakes looked when they moved.