Quotes About Darkness

He that has light within his own clear breast May sit in the center, and enjoy bright day: But he that hides a dark soul and foul thoughts Benighted walks under the mid-day sun; Himself his own dungeon.

A dungeon horrible, on all sides round, As one great furnace flamed; yet from those flames No light; but rather darkness visible Served only to discover sights of woe

Oh goodness infinite, goodness immense! That all this good of evil shall produce, And evil turn to good; more wonderful Than that which by creation first brought forth Light out of darkness! Full of doubt I stand, Whether I should repent me now of sin By me done, and occasioned; or rejoice Much more, that much more good thereof shall spring; To God more glory, more good-will to men From God, and over wrath grace shall abound.

O dark, dark, dark, amid the blaze of noon, Irrecoverably dark, total eclipse Without all hope of day!

Upon himself; horror and doubt distract His troubl'd thoughts, and from the bottom stirr The Hell within him, for within him Hell He brings, and round about him, nor from Hell One step no more then from himself can fly By

The wary fiend stood on the brink of hell, pondering his voyage

Where glowing embers through the room Teach light to counterfeit a gloom...

Hell's dread Emperor

Arm'd with Hell flames and fury all at once

Which way I fly is hell; myself am hell

Come let us haste, the stars grow high, But night sits monarch yet in the mid sky.

O fleeting joys of Paradise, dear bought with lasting woes! Did I request thee, maker, from my clay to mold me man, did I solicit thee from darkness to promote me, or here place in this delicious garden? As my will concurred not to my being, it were but right and equal to reduce me to my dust, desirous to resign, and render back all I received, unable to perform thy terms too hard, by which I was to hold the good I sought not.

Horror and doubt distract his troubled thoughts, and from the bottom stir the Hell within him; for within him Hell he brings, and round about him, nor from Hell one step, no more than from himself, can fly by change of place.

up they rose As from unrest; and, each the other viewing, Soon found their eyes how opened, and their minds How darkened. Innocence, that, as a veil, Had shadowed them from knowing ill, was gone; Just confidence, and native righteousness, And honour, from about them, naked left To guilty shame; He covered, but his robe Uncovered more.

What hath the night to do with sleep?

Dark vaild Cotytto, t' whom the secret flame Of mid-night Torches burns; mysterious Dame That ne're art call'd, but when the Dragon woom Of Stygian darknes spets her thickest gloom, And makes one blot of all the ayr

Thus with the Year Seasons return, but not to me returns Day, or the sweet approach of Ev'n or Morn, Or sight of vernal bloom, or Summers Rose, Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine; But cloud in stead, and ever-during dark Surrounds me, from the chearful waies of men Cut off, and for the book of knowledg fair Presented with a Universal blanc Of Natures works to mee expung'd and ras'd, And wisdome at one entrance quite shut out.

Mustering their rage, and Heaven resembles Hell! As he our darkness, cannot we his light Imitate when we please?

But it is in the darkest nights, when storms are blowing and the agitated waves are phosphorescent, that the most impressive displays are made.

Night is coming on and I am filled with indescribable loneliness. Felt feverish; bathed in a black, silent stream;

The imagination is committed to the justice of wholeness. It will not choose one side in an inner conflict and repress or banish the other; it will endeavor to initiate a profound conversation between them in order that something original can be born. The imagination loves symbol because it recognizes that inner divinity can only find expression in symbolic form. The symbol never gives itself completely to the light. It invites thought precisely because it resides at the threshold of darkness.

On a farm you learn to respect nature, particularly for the wisdom of its dark underworld. When you sow things in the spring, you commit them to the darkness of the soil.

The character of the faith that allows us to be transformed by suffering and darkness is not doubt-free certainty; rather, it is tenacious obedience.

Every unmortified sin will certainly do two things:— [1.] It will weaken the soul, and deprive it of its vigour. [2.] It will darken the soul, and deprive it of its comfort and peace. [1.]