Quotes About Darkness

But it's a funny thing about your darkest moments. They have a life of their own. They come around because they've got you pinned. Because they can. The harder you try to push them back into the shadows, the stronger they grow. They draw power from your resistance.

He gently set the hat back in place, and stared into its light-ringed darkness, surviving the pain of each second individually. What was the point, though, really, of surviving an hour-long second if another waited right behind it, also needing to be survived? But it made him feel panicky to think about that, so he returned to the one-second-at-a-time plan.

it's a funny thing about your darkest moments. They have a life of their own. They come around because they've got you pinned. Because they can. The harder you try to push them back into the shadows, the stronger they grow. They draw power from your resistance.

It was after two in the morning, I would later learn, and I was having a dream that was nothing but hoofbeats. No visuals at all. Just a gray screen of nothingness, and the sound of hoofbeats.

I see the sun, high overhead, and then I know. This darkness doesn't belong to the night. It belongs to me.

Left with no choice, Janice curled up on the bed where she drowned in her sadness. ~ Janice woke in the darkness to a woman's screams. Moonlight from

You look like a winter night", he had told her when he had given it to her. "I could sleep inside the cold of you".

Such lonely, lost things you find on your way. It would be easier, if you were the only one lost. But lost children always find each other, in the dark, in the cold. It is as though they are magnetized and can only attract their like. How I would like to lead you to brave, stalwart friends who would protect you and play games with dice and teach you delightful songs that have no sad endings. If you would only leave cages locked and turn away from unloved Wyverns, you could stay Heartless.

September did not want to feel for the Marquess. That's how villains get you, she knew. You feel badly for them, and next thing you know, you're tied to train tracks. But her wild, untried heart opened up another bloom inside her, a dark branch heavy with fruit.

Night poured itself down my throat. Night was my wine and my meat. Night wed me and bedded me, widowed me and murdered me and resurrected me whole a thousand times over with each hour.

The worst thing in the world is having to go back to the dark you shook off.

So much light, sweet girl, begins in the dark.

Shadows are where magic comes from. Your dark and dancing self, slipping behind and ahead and around, never quite looking at the sun.

Funniest thing about love, how it shakes loose when no one's looking. How the dark helps it along. Maybe that's why we dug caves so much, way back when.

There is no end and no beginning. There is only we two, alone in the dark, for always.

Things which are gone in the morning: sleep, darkness, grief, the moon. Women. Dreams.

You always trade blood for joy. It's always a deal struck in the wet and the dark. Al didn't make the rules. He just dances to the song that's playing.

This strange woman down in the dark kissed me and held me, and in between she whispered over and over: Shhh. It's okay. It's okay.

And really, really, when you put a fairy tale together with grime and despair and industrial angst you get the Gothic, and that's where we live, Percy.

And you will arrive under a soldier's black mantle With your fearful greenish candle And will not show your face to me. But the riddle cannot torment me for long: Whose hand is here, under that white glove Who sent this wanderer, who comes in darkness?

You can turn around in the dark, with the man who wants your heart looming so big, so big over you, and you can give it to him, so bright and red and pure that it destroys him. Getting what you want has that effect, more often than you think. But it's a dangerous thing, the intimate exchange of hearts in the shadows, and sometimes the man in the dark walks off with everything anyway.

Qui nunc it per iter tenebricosum illuc, unde negant redire quemquam. Ahora él va por camino tenebroso allí, donde niegan volver a nadie.

I am not myself. As you know, better than anyone. You have seen how I am, these last months. I don't know how to explain it, it is beyond any words that I have to describe. But it is as if there is a tempest in my mind, and I cannot see through the murk of it. I cannot think clearly—indeed, much of the time I cannot think at all. There is only a weight in my heart, a formless dread that shapes itself into pain. And then a greater dread of more pain

From there, the future is a place that looks darker every day.