Quotes About Darkness

With full dark he came forth, a solitary traveler going south. He walked all night.

Nor does God whisper through the trees. His voice is not to be mistaken. When men hear it they fall to their knees and their souls are riven and they cry out to Him and there is no fear in them but only that wildness of heart that springs from such longing and they cry out to stay his presence for they know at once that while godless men may live well enough in their exile those to whom He has spoken can contemplate no life without Him but only darkness and despair. Trees

Una negrura como para que dolieran los oídos de escucha

What's in a shadow? Do they move along at the speed of the light that casts them? How deep do they get?

Gusci di uomini senza fede che avanzavano barcollanti sul selciato come nomadi in una terra febbricitante. La rivelazione finale della fragilità di ogni cosa. Vecchie e spinose questioni si erano risolte in tenebre e nulla. L'ultimo esemplare di una data cosa si porta con sé la categoria. Spegne la luce e scompare. Guardati intorno. Mai è un sacco di tempo. Ma il bambino la sapeva lunga. E sapeva che mai è l'assenza di qualsiasi tempo.

Der Schatten des Jungen strich über ihn. Mit einem Bündel Holz in den Armen. Er sah ihm zu, wie er die Flammen anfachte. Gottes Feuerdrache. Funken stoben auf und erstarben im sternenlosen Dunkel. Nicht alle letzten Worte sind wahr, und diese Wohltat ist, obwohl ihres Bodens beraubt, nicht weniger real.

My life is ghastly

And so everything is supposed to hang on the speed of light but nobody wants to talk about the speed of dark.

Hard people makes hard times. I've seen the meanness of humans till I don't know why God ain't put out the sun and gone away.

Old and troubling issues resolved into nothingness and night.

Talih hiç de böyle bir ÅŸey olmayabilirdi. Karanl?kta yatm?? ölülere haset etmediÄŸi geceler nadirdi.

Entienda que ya existe este ogro. Este chupador de ojos. Él y otros como él. Ellos no han desaparecido del mundo. Y nunca lo harán.

And I woke up and as I woke up the dream began to dissolve. The dream and the story of the dream. And I knew that in the dream was an understanding that was simply a gift and it was receding in the darkness and I sat up in bed and called out after it but it simply fell to pieces in my mind

He visto tantas maldades que no sé cómo Dios no apaga el sol y acaba con todos nosotros

It is not to be thought that the life of darkness is sunk in misery and lost as if in sorrowing. There is no sorrowing. For sorrow is a thing that is swallowed up in death, and death and dying are the very life of the darkness. JACOB BOEHME

He is sinking into a darkness he cannot even comprehend. Darkness and immobilizing cold.

He watched him stoke the flames, God's own firedrake. The sparks rushed upward and died in the starless dark. Not all dying words are true and this blessing is no less real for being shorn of its ground.

There's a lot of wreckage out there. Lot of sparclingers. But they cant cling forever. You got people who think it would be a good idea to discover the true nature of darkness. The hive of darkness and the lair thereof. You can see them out there with their lanterns. What is wrong with this picture?

He was sat as before save headless, drenched in blood, the cigarillo still between his fingers, leaning toward the dark and smoking grotto in the flames where his life had gone. Glanton rose. The men moved away. No one spoke. When they set out in the dawn the headless man was sitting like a murdered anchorite discalced in ashes and sark. Someone had taken his gun but the boots stood where he'd put them.

He was trudging out across the field with his chin down so that withdrawing in the firelight he looked like a headless revenant turned away from the warmth of men's gatherings.

an old man at the farthest end of the table prayed for them all. He asked that God remember those who had died and he asked that the living gathered together here remember that the corn grows by the will of God and beyond that will there is neither corn nor growing nor light nor air nor rain nor anything at all save only darkness. Then they ate.

They wheeled Suttree on. Bearing his pained bones in their boat of flesh. To where the deadcarriage waits in the dark. Perhaps the wrath of God after all.

He might say that milk is the beverage of choice among all right-thinking nightfolk. Or he would say that if anything were true wouldnt everybody know it by now? Or that you shouldnt worry about what people think of you because they dont do it that often. Or that we are hardly creatures of the light in case you hadnt noticed. Or that the darkest hour is just before the storm. Or when you close your eyes do I go away? Do you?

Cormac McCarthy