Quotes About Dark night

Night fell upon them dark and starblown and the wagon grew swollen near mute with dew. On their chairs in such black immobility these travelers could have been stone figures quarried from the architecture of an older time.

It was a dark and stormy night.Suddenly a scream pierced the air…. Good writing takes enormous concentration.

If I believe in anything, it is in the dark night of the soul. Awe is my religion, and mystery is its church.

The dark night was the first book of poetry, and the constellations were the poems.

There are tides of justice surging to the unknown shores of right; Stars of truth that seek a setting in the dark, untutored night.

Viene la notte, la notte scura, piena di cose che fanno paura, di sogni fasulli, di incubi veri, di sangue di morte e di uomini neri... Non serve gridare, non serve fuggire, l'unica cosa da fare è morire...

If you should ask me where I've been all this time I have to say Things happen. I have to dwell on stones darkening the earth, on the river ruined in its own duration: I know nothing save things the birds have lost, the sea I left behind, or my sister crying. Why this abundance of places? Why does day lock with day? Why the dark night swilling round in our mouths? And why the dead?

Her face was brilliant and glowing; but this glow was not one of brightness; it suggested the fearful glow of a conflagration in the midst of a dark night.

Go, labour on while it is day, The world's dark night is hastening on. Speed, speed thy work, cast sloth away-- It is not thus that souls are won.

The novelist F. Scott Fitzgerald said that the real dark night of the soul was always three o'clock in the morning, and those sixty minutes between three o'clock and four were reliably and literally the darkest in the city.

Fitzgerald put it, "In a real dark night of the soul, it is always three o'clock in the morning, day after day"),

Yes, I read. I have that absurd habit. I like beautiful poems, moving poetry, and all the beyond of that poetry. I am extraordinarily sensitive to those poor, marvelous words left in our dark night by a few men I never knew.

Death was a quiet evil, unavoidable like the dark night and defenseless sleep and tearful sorrows. It had hunted her down and slithered close, wanting only to smother every last flicker of

Where I live, it's better to write in the morning because the night is really, really, really dark, and I do believe you'd go mad if you weren't asleep for most of it.

When the night has come and the land is dark and the moon is the only light we see. No, I won't be afraid, no, I won't be afraid, just as long as you stand, stand by me.

It was a fine night for treachery - dark with a pale moon rising.

What is commonly called a dark night of the soul is really a dark night of the ego. Knowing this helps you to tap into the space within where healing is possible and miracles happen.

Even now, when I imagine Einstein's dendrites and neurons firing as his brain lit upon relativity, I picture Baghdad, with its minarets and modern-antennaed buildings sparkling beneath thousands of phantasmagorical tracers, under Allied attack on a very dark night.

La nuit était si sombre que l'eau des rivières se cognait aux pierres des montagnes et, au-delà des montagnes, Dieu, qui est parfois come un dentiste fou, avec la main du vent, arrachait les arbres avec leur racines.

Arise and pour pure wine into my cup, Pour moon beams into the dark night of my thought, That I may lead home the wanderer And imbue the idle looker-on with restless impatience; And advance hotly on a new quest And become known as the champion of a new spirit

The old Church is still there, the graveyard, the road--and when the night is dark and windy, who knows who else? —The Phantom Rider of the Confederacy

A little light in the dark night A faint voice is calling you This way! This way! This flickering, wavering little voice Like dew, like a bonfire The voice of insects the sound of the water You can never lose them once you've heard them...

The soft, fluttering cry of a barn owl rose over the churchyard. Silent men flowed out of the dark.

Miró hacia arriba y vio un millar de estrellas centelleando en el oscuro terciopelo de una noche sin luna. Las conocía todas, sus historias y sus nombres. Las conocía bien y le eran tan familiares como, por ejemplo, sus propias manos.