Quotes About Dark

Into this wild abyss, The womb of nature and perhaps her grave, Of neither sea, nor shore, nor air, nor fire, But all these in their pregnant causes mixed Confusedly, and which thus must ever fight, Unless the almighty maker them ordain His dark materials to create more worlds, Into this wild abyss the wary fiend Stood on the brink of hell and looked a while, Pondering his voyage . . .

In the gloom, though, Lyra sensed the presence of the Dust, for the air seemed to be full of dark intentions, like the forms of thoughts not yet born.

Lyra's mind was full of dark questions that flew around like witches, swift and untouchable, and somewhere, just beyond where she could reach, there was a glory and a thrill which she didn't understand at all. But it gave her a surge of strength

We work in the dark—we do what we can—we give what we have. Our doubt is our passion and our passion is our task. The rest is the madness of art.

You are of the blood, Arvan. It will carry you through, he said Words! Just words. Blood was merely dark liquid — it carried no secrets, no mysteries. Courage was a thing of the soul and not a gift that a man could bestow on his sons

There's a safety in thinking in a diner. You can have your coffee or your milk shake, and you can go off into strange dark areas, and always come back to the safety of the diner.

one day Satan himself visits, along with his great-grandmother—who is, not surprisingly, a total fucking bitch.

she was the human equivalent of a storm cloud.

Today the teacher called me a sadist. I tried to say that was like the pot calling the kettle black but came out with something closer to "That is like a pan saying to a dark pan, 'You are a pan.

Given the choice between four perfectly acceptable movies, they invariably opt for a walk through the Picasso museum or a tour of the cathedral, saying, "I didn't come all the way to Paris so I can sit in the dark." They make it sound so bad. "Yes," I say, "but this is the French dark. It's… darker than the dark we have back home.

Holy men tell us life is a mystery. They embrace that concept happily. But some mysteries bite and bark and come to get you in the dark.

The rain wasn't the usual glittering silver, but dark and dirty, as if nature were a scrubwoman wringing out a filthy mop.

For some, the past is a chain, each day a link, raveling backward to one ringbolt or another, in one dark place or another, and tomorrow is a slave to yesterday.

I thought it couldn't be just an ordinary, empty space. It must be different from a petty vacuum. I looked into it again, feeling mesmerized, as if catching a glimpse of another universe. For no particular reason I felt like disappearing through the dark hole into somewhere else.

she woke up in time to see the sun sending up spies ahead of him to mark out the road through the dark. He peeped up over the door sill of the world and made a little foolishness with red.

He was already tired of the rain. He never took long to grow weary of it in winter, though he liked it in the summertime when it fell hard, silver and green, and afterward steamed from the backs of horses, steamed up from the railroad ties and lay in a mist along Town Creek. In summer, the birds sang after a rain, but no such music rose from the cold drizzle of the dead time. Only silence, and only the dark.

So the mathematician and the artist are companioned in the same dark, and do obeisance to the same gods.

This tale that I am about to tell is of a little boy who lived and suffered in those dark middle ages; of how he saw both the good and the bad of men, and of how, by gentleness and love and not by strife and hatred, he came at last to stand above other men and to be looked up to by all.

This campus was an island of quiet in the city's roar, and at night it was an island of dark in the city's blaze.

The time is short and the hills is dark and I's got miles to go before I sleeps. Is is no easy road.

Our records, if you have a dark sense of humor, were funny, but our records weren't about comedy. They were about protests, fantasy, confrontation and all that.

Tom also recommended a stealth method for obtaining video footage of the mysterious flying activity that haunted the ranch. He used to sneak out of his house after dark, armed with an old manual video recorder that contained as few electronics as possible.

I walk in a cloud of wonder; I am glad. I mingle among the crowds; my heart is pounding; you do not guess the adventure I have had!... Yet you, too, all have had your dark adventures, your sudden adventures, or strange, or sweet.

It was dark now, and broodingly sluggish. Like something supine waiting to spring, with just the tip of its tail twitching. Leaves stood still on the trees. An evil green star glinted in the black sky like a hostile eye, like an evil spying eye. ("For The Rest Of Her Life")