Quotes About Darkness

The blue, mosquitoey night pushes in from the hotel windows.

At night, far from shore, stars pulse with a strength inconceivable in the proximity of light.

By now it was afternoon. Ted began to walk, still dazed, until he found himself among a skein of backstreets so narrow they felt dark. He passed churches blistered with grime, moldering palazzi whose squalid interiors leaked sounds of wailing cats and children. Soiled, forgotten coats of arms were carved above their massive doorways, and these unsettled Ted: such universal, defining symbols made meaningless by nothing more than time." (p. 212)

In this season of growing darkness, I wonder how we as Christians choose to publicize the miracle we proclaim. If it is not leading to greater illumination—to a greater light—we might want to rethink how we're doing it. How can we name the miracle, not as a simple fix, but as an abiding truth?

Maybe, to do what you and I do, we have to have a little bit of the monster in us.

Secrets, lies, All I despise. The tree is poison, Don't you see? It poisoned S and Z and me. The evidence I stole Is in the darkest hole. Light shall reveal all I writ upon the…

Phoebe realized how very wrong she'd been about this house, this family. It was far darker, more dangerous than the places she'd grown up in. In the dingy little apartments her mother rented, everything was out in the open. Their lives were dirty and squalid, but they didn't pretend to be anything else. Here, things seemed so normal, so perfect, but it was all a deception.

The covers are tented up over me and Mama's heads, and it's all dark, like we're deep underground. Animals in a den. All warm and snuggly.

And, as in all fairy tales, there was bloodshed, there was loss.

There are different ways to die. There's jumping off a roof and there's slowly poisoning yourself with the flesh of another every single day.

It's hard to describe, but I imagine the way I am at this moment is a lot like getting sucked into a vortex. Everything dark and churning, but slow churning instead of fast, and this great weight pulling you down, like it's attached to your feet even if you can't see it. I think, This is what it must be feel like to be trapped in quicksand.

I think about Finch and Sir Patrick Moore and black holes and blue holes and bottomless bodies of water and exploding stars and event horizons, and a place so dark that light can't get out once it's in.

At this hungry and thirsty and yearning hour, with the uneasiness of the dark and the inevitability of bedtime clutching at them, something more was needed than the spidery tunnels of the furze and broom, and the clay hollows of elders and watery pits of willow, full of lean shadows.

The rhythm of life runs in cycles. There are times in the darkness and times in the light. The energy of life is like the rain forest in Borneo. Things live, grow, die, fall to the forest floor, rot and then they are born again-Olympia Dukakis

Sometimes the fear was stronger than the anger. The plain was silent and in its darkness there was nothing to hold to.

His eyes I saw too. Large and profound, they seemed to increase in depth as the dark fell on them, then to resurface as the lighthouse beam caught them again, as if symbolising in rapid sequence the constant recurrence of night and day.

Living in musty shadows and dismal, oppressive silence, Thérèse could see her whole life stretching out before her totally void, bringing night after night the same cold bed and morning after morning the same empty day.

The whole of Paris was lit up. The tiny dancing flames had bespangled the sea of darkness from end to end of the horizon, and now, like millions of stars, they burned with a steady light in the serene summer night. There was no breath of wind to make them flicker as they hung there in space. They made the unseen city seem as vast as a firmament, reaching out into infinity.

Mais il avait oublié l'inventaire, il ne voyait pas son empire, ces magasins crevant de richesses. Tout avait disparu, les victoires bruyantes d'hier, la fortune colossale de demain. D'un regard désespéré, il suivait Denise, et quand elle eut passé la porte, il n'y eut plus rien, la maison devint noire.

They again kissed each other and fell asleep. The patch of light on the ceiling now seemed to be assuming the shape of a terrified eye, that stared wildly and fixedly upon the pale, slumbering couple who reeked with crime beneath their very sheets, and dreamt they could see a rain of blood falling in big drops, which turned into golden coins as they plashed upon the floor.

On a pitch black, starless night, a solitary man was trudging along the main road from Marchiennes to Montsou, ten kilometres of cobblestones running straight as a die across the bare plain between fields of beet.

On May 5, 1896, he wrote in his diary; "I have no longer anything to say; everything is alike in its horrible cruelty.

La nuit tombait, le jardin n'était plus qu'un grand cercueil d'ombre.

Es mußte so kommen«, sagte er nachdenklich mit leiser Stimme. »Dieses Übermaß von Betriebsamkeit und Stolz auf unser Wissen mußte uns in den Zweifel zurückschleudern. Dies Jahrhundert, das schon soviel Licht gebracht hat, mußte mit der Drohung einer von neuem hereinbrechenden Finsternis enden.