Quotes About Darkness

O remember In your narrowing dark hours That more things move Than blood in the heart.

Everything is disproportionate in the middle of the night.

Ravens are the birds I'll miss most when I die. If only the darkness into which we must look were composed of the black light of their limber intelligence. If only we did not have to die at all. Instead, become ravens.

The night is a strawberry.

I just sit where I'm put, composed of stone and wishful thinking: That the deity that kills for pleasure will also heal, That in the midst of your nightmare, the final one, a kind lion will pick your soul up gently by the nape of the neck, And caress you into darkness and paradise. ~ Ruth Zardo, poet and character in All The Devils Are Here

Despite himself, Beauvoir laughed. "There is strong shadow where there is much light." ... But most he loved a happy human face.

Fear might stop some people from committing murder, but he knew for certain fear was what drove most people to kill. It was what nested below all the other emotions. It was what twisted and turned the other emotions into something sick. It was an alchemist and could turn daylight into night, joy into despair. Fear, once taken root, blocked the sun. And Gamache knew what grew in that darkness. He searched for it every day.

Isabelle [Lacoste] sat quietly for a moment, looking into the naked woods. Only in the winter was it possible to see both the forest and the trees. Homicide, she thought, was a perpetual winter.

But then, Armand Gamache thought, where else would you find darkness but right up against the light? What greater triumph for evil than to ruin a garden?

Some people keep their darkness inside, and some hide their light. You, mon ami, almost certainly have a croissant in there.

Gamache was the best of them, the smartest and bravest and strongest because he was willing to go into his own head alone, and open all the doors there, and enter all the dark rooms. And make friends with what he found there. And he went into the dark, hidden rooms in the minds of others. The minds of killers. And he faced down whatever monsters came at him. He went to places Beauvoir had never even dreamed existed.

Some so weighty we carry them our whole lives. They can blight our very existence, or they can make us stronger. They can make us bitter or teach us compassion. They can drive us to do things we never thought ourselves capable of. Wonderful achievements, like becoming Chief Inspector and Commander. Or horrific things. Terrible dark deeds.

El tiempo, pensó Gamache al salir a la oscuridad, lo cubría todo tarde o temprano. Acontecimientos, personas, recuerdos.

So that the boy grew an outer hull to withstand assault. But while those skins saved tender young souls, Gamache knew, they soon stopped protecting and became the problem. Because while the hard outer shell kept the hurt at bay, it also kept out the light. And inside the frightened little soul became something else entirely, nurtured only in darkness.

The place didn't even have crime. Except murder. The only criminal thing that ever happened in this village was the worst possible crime.

And now it is now, and the dark thing is here.

where else would you find darkness but right up against the light? What greater triumph for evil than to ruin a garden?

you said that Hell is empty and all the devils are here. What did you mean?

fear was what drove most people to kill. It was what nested below all the other emotions. It was what twisted and turned the other emotions into something sick. It was an alchemist and could turn daylight into night, joy into despair. Fear, once taken root, blocked the sun. And Gamache knew what grew in that darkness. He searched for it every day.

She got quite upset and said that the night is a strawberry.

Actually, the real mystery is why more people don't commit murder. It must be terrible to be human.

That in the midst of your nightmare, the final one, a kind lion will pick your soul up gently by the nape of the neck, Home. Home. He wanted to go home. And sit by the fire. And listen to their friends talking and laughing. To hold Reine-Marie's hand and watch their grandchildren play. And caress you into darkness and paradise.

But looking at the young men and women staring at him now, who'd seen something terrible about to happen and had done nothing, Chief Inspector Gamache wondered if he could have been wrong all this time. Maybe the darkness sometimes won. Maybe evil had no limits.

Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men?