Quotes About Darkness

Depression was, indeed, the hand of a friend trying to press me down to ground on which it was safe to stand—the ground of my own truth, my own nature, with its complex mix of limits and gifts, liabilities and assets, darkness and light.

But before we come to that center, full of light, we must travel in the dark. Darkness is not the whole of the story-every pilgrimage has passages of loveliness and joy-but it is the part of the story most often left untold.

heart's darkness or its light, the closer we get to the ultimate mystery of God. But our culture wants to turn mysteries into puzzles to be explained or problems to be solved, because maintaining the illusion that we can "straighten things out" makes us feel powerful. Yet mysteries never yield to solutions or fixes-and when we pretend that they do, life becomes not only more banal but also more hopeless, because the fixes never work.

But before we come to that center, full of light, we must travel in the dark. Darkness is not the whole of the story—every pilgrimage has passages of loveliness and joy—but it is the part of the story most often left untold. When we finally escape the darkness and stumble into the light, it is tempting to tell others that our hope never flagged, to deny those long nights we spent cowering in fear.

When we so fear the dark that we demand light around the clock, there can be only one result: artificial light that is glaring and graceless and, beyond its borders, a darkness that grows ever more terrifying as we try to hold it off.

Há uma noite irresistível no fundo do homem. Todas as noites, as mulheres e os homens adormecem. Mergulham na noite como se as trevas fossem uma recordação.

Just when you think you got it down Your heart securely tied and bound They whisper, promises in the dark

Censorship and thought control can exist only in secrecy and darkness.

Maybe the bottom of my own night is a darkness I cannot descend into without "the light that is within me" becoming dark.

There is a last word to be said about the fairy tale. The old woman sends the soldier down into the deep darkness, promising him treasure, but telling him to bring back to her just one thing: an old tinder box. He succeeds, but instead of giving it to her, he kills the old woman and goes off to have his own adventures with the box and the magical genie inside. This is a complicated ending, but worth pondering.

Night is not something to endure until dawn. It is an element, like wind or fire. Darkness is its own kingdom; it moves to its own laws, and many living things dwell in it.

He was obviously dead. But since he was a vampire that wasn't as hopeless a thing as it might have been.

Damn it," I said. "I don't suppose you have any ideas on how to kill Littleton." He smiled at me, his teeth very white in the darkness of his face. "Eat him," he said.

Thank you for tearing Tim into small Tim bits.

We are all monsters here, he said. It's too late for any of us to be anything else.

Scaring people is fun," said the witch, stepping out of the shadows about ten feet from the porch.

Second, it sometimes left me standing in the dark, listening to someone being killed while they cried out to me. For Mercy.

After the third swallow, he opened his eyes, and they were night-dark velvet. He reached up and grasped Jesse's hand where it lay on his shoulder, but his eyes were on me. "Mercy," he mumbled. "What the hell did you do to my French Roast?

One by one, two by two, the Hardesty witches are traveling through. With a storm of curses, they call from their tomes; they will drink your blood and dine on your bones.

If I were a vampire, I think I'd only wear black or dark brown—to hide the stains.

Oh, I just adore nasties.

was in a battle for my soul, and the evil spirit that was trying to possess me has been, very slowly, winning." He smiled broadly, raised his glass at Anna, and said, "Until today.

She probably enjoys cutting up everyone's happiness. Not to mention cutting up other parts of people; given her penchant for poisoning people and turning them into beech trees, I fail to see how she has reached thirty without leaving a trail of bodies behind her.

The jelly burbled unhappily to itself. It looked as if it were boiling. The little dragon kept staring at it, and suddenly the dragon's eyes started to glow. "I know what this reminds me of!" it said triumphantly. "Dessert!" The quozzel shrieked and collapsed backward into the darkness just as the dragon's head shot toward it.