Quotes About Shadows

A soft gust of wind swooped at them under the hornbeam branches, setting the shadows flurrying, and when it died into the grass, Randal laid Bevis' body down, with a stunned emptiness inside him as though something of himself had gone too.

Bajo el cielo, resignadas, reposan las aguas melancólicas. Las torres y las sombras se confunden de tal modo que todo parece suspendido en el aire, mientras que desde una torre orgullosa, la Muerte como un espectro gigante, contempla la ciudad que yace a sus pies.

Cities, like cats, will reveal themselves at night.

Give me a companion of my way, be it only to mention how the shadows lengthen as the sun declines,' wrote Hazlitt. Pratap

If you turn toward O'Connell Street, an easy stroll takes you to the noble façade of Trinity College and the statues of Burke and Goldsmith; northward, near Parnell Square, you may hear living Irish orators proclaiming through amplifiers that they have succeeded in increasing sevenfold the pensions of widows, a mere earnest of their intent. And you may reflect, with Burke, "What shadows we are, and what shadows we pursue!

Never fear shadows. They simply mean there's a light shining somewhere nearby.

There is light and dark in all of us, Niamh. Sometimes life causes us to let in a little more dark than we're comfortable with. But as long as we remember the light exists to chase away the shadows, we'll be okay." He glanced at her meaningfully. "The dark is our imperfect natures, but without it, we'd never realize how beautiful the light is. How beautiful it is as it dances with the shadows. I know you'll be okay.

Because those events are so real that they cast their shadow forward and backwards through all time, whenever men think of these matters at all. Even if they are mired in ignorace, they will see...fragments of the Truth, as men imprisoned in a cave see shadows cast by the sun. Likewise, all men derive their moral intuitions from God; how not? There is no other source, just as there is no other way to make a wheel than to make it round.

Now the day is over,Night is drawing nigh;Shadows of the eveningSteal across the sky.

Most of the shadows of this life are caused by standing in one's own sunshine. —Ralph Waldo Emerson, writer and philosopher

Beginnings are sudden, but also insidious. They creep up on you sideways, they keep to the shadows, they lurk unrecognized. Then, later, they spring.

What mysteries remain to be revealed in the nervous system, that web of structures both material and ethereal, that network of threads that runs throughout the body, composed of a thousand Ariadne's clues, all leading to the brain, that shadowy central den where the human bones lie scattered and the monsters lurk

Life is short, and time is swift; Roses fade, and shadows shift.

It makes me think of Lazarus. He must have had those shadows after his miracle. You don't spend time in the tomb without it changing you, and everyone who was waiting for you to come out.

is it likely my life all through will be so clouded? Is it not possible that God may hear my prayers, disperse these gloomy shadows, and grant me some beams of heaven's sunshine yet? Will He entirely deny to me those blessings which are so freely given to others, who neither ask them nor acknowledge them when received? May I not still hope and trust?

We, too, are shadow and light. We are not supposed to know this, or be all these different facets of humanity, bright and dark. We are raised to be bright and shiny, but there is meaning in the acceptance of our dusky and dappled side, and also in defiance.

As if the night had said to me, 'You are the night and the night alone understands you and enfolds you in its arms' One with the shadows. Without nightmare. An inexplicable peace.

Think of it, Armand," I pressed carefully. "Why should Death lurk in the shadows? Why should Death wait at the gate? There is no bedchamber, no ballroom that I cannot enter. Death in the glow of the hearth, Death on tiptoe in the corridor, that is what I am. Speak to me of the Dark Gifts—I use them. I'm Gentleman Death in silk and lace, come to put out the candles. The canker in the heart of the rose.

Deidre called it twilight. Rita had seen the word written out, all right, but she'd never heard anyone really say it. Twilight.

We are a cruse of the shadows; we are a secret. We are eternal.

Scattered in the dark were the vampires.

With vampiric dexterity I slipped into shadowy gardens and listened at the open doorways of the dimly lighted villas as those inside talked softly over dinner or listened to the delicate music of a young boy accompanying himself with a lyre.

She swam to the shallow end of the pool and stood up, yanking the shrinking top of the bathing suit up to a more demure level. That's a shame, Peter Jensen's cool voice emerged from the shadows. I was hoping gravity would win.

Outside shadows are blue, I read, because they are lighted by the blue sky and not the yellow sun. Their blueness bespeaks infinitesimal particles scattered down inestimable distance.