Quotes About Darkness

Never doubt in the DARK what God told you in the LIGHT.

Otto said: Try to figure out a way to kill us nicely. You can, of course, drop mother into the well, and maybe you could poison me somehow.

Deux heures de l'après-midi est prosaïque, presque vulgaire; mais deux heures du matin est un aventurier qui s'enfonce dans l'inconnu. Et cet inconnu, c'est trois heures du matin, le pôle nocturne, le continent mystérieux du temps. On en fait le tour; et si on croit l'avoir traversé jamais, on se trompe, car bientôt quatre heures du matin arrive sans que vous ayez surpris le secret de la nuit. Et le petit jour strie déjà les volets de ses baguettes bleues parallèles.

He put a dark place in me and I can't forgive him for that. But it's a part of me now and how can I regret what I am - though it often makes me sad.

I see I have this patience to wait it out, and the truth is no matter how dark I feel I would never take my own life, because when the darkness is over, then what a blessing is the feeblest ray of light!

One of the most beautiful things to do is to paint darkness, which nevertheless has light in it.

Her mother told her about cardinals when she was a child. This bird was symbolic of beauty in the midst of darkness, hope in the midst of sorrow—and her family had certainly seen a fair share of sorrow. Could

I am less blindly confident than I once was, for I have been learning a truer estimate of myself, my failings and limitations, in these dark days. I have learnt to hope that if there be a Judgment Day of some kind, God will not see us with our own eyes, nor judge us as we judge ourselves.

I've just been bitten on the neck by a vampire... mosquito. Does that mean that when the night comes I will rise and be annoying?

He was her death—and yet, her blade of life, of clarity, to cut through the thick roiling swamp of personal darkness.

A vast black sleep falls over my life sleep, all hope sleep, all desire.

Hell is empty. The demons are everywhere apparent.

So even in hell, there are clowns.

The light shining through was a rainbow from hell.

I would say a few words in your ear. A doubtful man has little faith. Live a long time and it gets dark, and suddenly you know you don't know yourself. But I'd say them even so. Since my eyes repeat what they take in: your beauty, your name, the river's sound, the woods, the soul on its own.

That profound darkness where weeping doesn't exist.

You are the calling of lovers, the signals that silently appeal to one another in the dark. Sky with rubbed out stars, you give yourself, like a warm field, to these noiseless wings.

Allí surtiendo de lo oscuro, rompiendo de lo oscuro, serena, pero casi cruel, como una leve diosa recobrada, hete aquí que ella emerge, sagradamente su ademán extendiendo, para que la luz del día, la ya gozosa luz que la asalta, se vierta doradamente viva sobre su palma núbil.

Este es el mar El mar con sus olas propias Con sus propios sentidos El mar tratando de romper sus cadenas Queriendo imitar la eternidad Queriendo ser pulmón o neblina de pájaros en pena O el jardín de los astros que pesan en el cielo Sobre las tinieblas que arrastramos O que acaso nos arrastran Cuando vuelan de repente todas las palomas de la luna Y se hace más oscuro que las encrucijadas de la muerte

This is no life. No life at all. But where is there any life? Nothing happens. Nothing goes on. Boring. Old. Dead. Ghastly." Every object around him was a sham. Whatever he took up turned to dust. The world was a crumbling affair not to be grasped or held. You fell from emptiness to emptiness. You carried around a sack of darkness inside you. Doctor Otternschlag lived in the uttermost loneliness - although the earth is full of people like him . . .

Do I seem like the white-picket-fence sort of girl to you, Carl?" "No, you seem like the blood-soaked-walls kind of girl to me.

In winter there is no heat, no light, no noon, evening touches morning, there is fog, and mist, the window is frosted, and you cannot see clearly. The sky is but the mouth of a cave. The whole day is the cave.... Frightful season! Winter changes into stone the water of heaven and the heart of man.

The three great problems of this century the degradation of man in the proletariat, the subjection of women through hunger, the atrophy of the child by darkness.

Should we continue to look upwards Is the light we can see in the sky one of those which will presently be extinguished The ideal is terrifying to behold, lost as it is in the depths, small, isolated, a pin-point, brilliant but threatened on all sides by the dark forces that surround it nevertheless, no more in danger than a star in the jaws of the clouds. (Les Miserables)