Quotes About Dark

All through the dark the wind looks for the grief it belongs to but there was no place for that any more I have looked too and seen only the nameless hunger watching us out of the stars ancestor and the black fields —W.S. Merwin, "Night Wind" The Second Four Books of Poems . (Copper Canyon Press, 1992)

Without the light, no chance; without the dark, no dance.

I don't mind the dark, and because it's Christmas, we've been busy putting lights up everywhere. High, so everyone knows we're okay.

If you wish to kill yourself but lack the courage to, I think a visit to Palmerston North will do the trick.

Unquiet souls. In the dark fermentation of earth, in the never idle workshop of nature, in the eternal movement, yea shall find yourselves again.

Twilight and evening bell, and after that the dark! And may there be no sadness of farewell when I embark.

Death was in every sell of his body. He gave off a faint, greenish steam of decay. Lee imagined he would glow in the dark.

The reason we fear to go out after dark is not that we may be set upon by bands of evangelicals and forced to read the New Testament, but that we may be set upon by gangs of feral young people who have been taught that nothing is superior to their own needs or feelings.

The happiness of man is devoid of chlorophyll no doubt because its specific condition is to evolve in the darkest and dankest caves of the heart.

when someone sees a soul disturbed and unable to see something, he won't laugh mindlessly, but he'll take into consideration whether it has come from a brighter life and is dimmed through not having yet become accustomed to the dark or whether it has come from greater ignorance into greater light and is dazzled by the increased brillance.

We can forgive a child who is afraid of the dark; the real tragedy of life is when men are afraid of the light.

That chap looks as if he ate a girl's kidney last night.

His camera at home was just too crummy. That's why all his pictures came out too dark or too light, and everyone in them had glowing red dots in their eyes. Greg wondered if this camera was any good.

The piano sounds became a roar, like an ocean of music crashing against the dark tile walls.

Survival, I said softly. It's selfish, and it's dark, and we've always been a species willing to do anything to satisfy our needs. Individuals have morals. Mobs have appetites.

Myrnin wasn't especially tall, but he was just . . . strangely cool. Long, curling, lush black hair that fell to his shoulders. His face was vampire-pale, but it suited him, somehow, and he had the kind of sharp features that would have made him a star if he'd wanted to be in the movies. Big, expressive dark eyes and full lips. Definitely cover-model material.

The sound of the ocean breaking our silence was like chocolate syrup poured into a glass of milk, dispersing into awkward dark clumps while waiting to be stirred.

and the desire to spare him that grief rose in her like dark well water until she woke, drowning—

I am told not to let the tone of this narrative become too dark. A certain 400-pound muse will park his 150-pound ass on me by way of editorial comment, and there is always the threat of his urine-filled cat.

Life is so fragile and uncertain that every daybreak is a miracle, almost a triumph. That first blush in the sky is all the hope of the world distilled into light. I watch the dark fade, and say to myself, "Okay, I'm still here," and the more sunrises I see, the more I feel as if I'll live to see another twenty thousand.

Nowhere can a secret keep Always secret, dark and deep, Half so well as in the past, Buried deep to last, to last. Keep it in your own dark heart. Otherwise the rumors start. After many years have buried Secrets over which you worried, No confidant can then betray All the words you didn't say. Only you can then exhume Secrets safe within the tomb Of memory, of memory, Within the tomb of memory. -The Book of Counted Sorrows

In certain fiction, she perceives truths that she rarely finds in nonfiction; therefore, in her quest to better understand the world and the meaning of her life, she reads those novels that suggest a world of wonders, dark and light, forever unfolding for eyes willing to see.

David wondered what kind of dark-minded people wanted items from the abattoir of a rapist-murderer and how Stuart Ulrich knew where to advertise to attract their attention.

On the dark water of the harbor, reflections of shoreside lights cockled like colorful skeins of rippled-ribbon sugar candy.