Quotes About Darkness

CHAPTER EIGHTY-NINE Losing the Light

Ci sono tre cose che gli uomini saggi temono: il mare in tempesta, una notte senza luna e la rabbia di un uomo gentile.

When you're alone, it's easy to be afraid. It's easy to focus on what might be lurking in the dark at the bottom of the cellar steps. It's easy to obsess on unproductive things, like the madness of stepping into a storm of spinning knives. When you're alone it's easy to sweat, panic, fall apart …

When you're alone, it's easy to be afraid. It's easy to focus on what might be lurking in the dark at the bottom of the cellar steps. It's easy to obsess on unproductive things, like the madness of stepping into a storm of spinning knives. When you're alone it's easy to sweat, panic, fall apart … But I wasn't alone.

Dio un pisotón. Deseó que aquella cosa glotona tuviera diarrea durante una semana. Deseó que se cagara de arriba abajo y de abajo arriba, y que luego se cayera por una grieta y perdiera su nombre y se muriese sola y vacía y hueca en la oscuridad furiosa.

Estaba sentado, quieto como una estatua, y me dolían los dedos. Quería tocar, no escuchar. «Quería» no es un verbo suficientemente intenso. Me moría de ganas de tocar. No me enorgullezco de haberme planteado robarle el laúd y marcharme de allí aprovechando la oscuridad de la noche.

El desconocido era pura oscuridad: capa negra con capucha, máscara negra, guantes negros. Encanis estaba delante de mí ofreciéndome una moneda de plata en la que se reflejaba la luz de la luna.

the innocent silence that had gathered like a clear pool around the three men was beginning to darken into a silence of a different kind.

When you're alone, it's easy to be afraid. It's easy to focus on what might be lurking in the dark at the bottom of the cellar steps. It's easy to obsess on unproductive things, like the madness of stepping into a storm of spinning knives. When you're alone it's easy to sweat, panic, fall apart … But

And finally - he was neither able nor willing to prevent it - the self-loathing dammed up inside him spilled over and gushed out, gushed out of glaring eyes that grew ever grimmer, angrier, beneath the rim of his cap, flooding the outside world as perfect, vulgar hate.

For here, inside the crypt, was where he truly lived. Which is to say, for well over twenty hours a day in total darkness and in total silence and in total immobility, he sat on his horse blanket at the end of the stony corridor, his back resting on the rock slide, his shoulders wedged between the rocks and enjoyed himself.

Fifty yards farther, he turned off to the right up the rue des Marais, a narrow alley hardly a span wide and darker still—if that was possible. Strangely enough, the scent was not much stronger. It was only purer, and in its augmented purity, it took on an even greater power of attraction. Grenouille walked with no will of his own.

Jeanie's the type who is only wearing black until they come up with something darker.

No moon or stars, real or imagined.

A disconcerting image of the cameraman thrown in a shallow grave passed through my sights; he sat up in the dark and noticed the blanket of his bed was made of sod.

But the present is no less dark than the past, and its mystery is equal to anything the future might hold. Such is the way of the world: one step at a time, one word and then the next.

I doubted that I would be able to sleep. There were too many things to digest, too many images churning in my mind, but the moment my head touched the pillow, I began to lose consciousness. I felt as if I'd been clubbed, as if my skull had been crushed by a stone. Some stories are too terrible, perhaps, and the only way to let them into you is to escape, to turn your back on them and steal off into the darkness.

Sáng tr?ng, r?i bóng t?i. N?ng d?i xu?ng t? m?i ng? tr?i, sau ?ó là ?êm ?en, nh?ng vì sao im l?ng, gió xao ??ng lá cành. L? th??ng là v?y.

For it is only in the darkness of solitude that the work of memory begins.

Behind all the surface composure, there seemed to be a great darkness: an urge to test himself, to take risks, to haunt the edges of things.

Life can last just so long, you understand. Everything else is in the room, with darkness, with God's language, with screams. Here I am of the air, a beautiful thing for the light to shine on.

A black star appears, a point of darkness in the night sky's clarity. Point of darkness and gateway to repose. Reach out, pierce the fine fabric of the sheltering sky, take repose.

the sky here's very strange. I often have the sensation when I look at it that it's a solid thing up there, protecting us from what's behind . . . [from] nothing, I suppose. Just darkness. Absolute night.

Are you all right?' 'It's okay,' he says, 'I think I just swallowed some dark.' He has the notion that darkness is a substance. It will make you choke if you swallow too much in one go. I could have put him straight with some prosaic account of the coughing reflex being triggered by the shock of the cold air rather than a mouthful of darkness, but I didn't I stashed away the treasured image and left him with the version of reality fashioned by his infant brain.