Quotes About Dark

The very air had screams smeared on it. He flinched from the noise in this silent room full of dark stains drying.

DOST thou not hear the silver bell, Through yonder lime-trees ringing? 'Tis my lady's light gazelle. To me her love thoughts bringing, — All the while that silver bell Around his dark neck ringing.

receding in an asymmetric V to the east where it's dark and there are no more bars.

Riot was her element, as surely as this dark room almost creeping with amassed objects. The street and the hothouse; in V. were resolved, by some magic, the two extremes. She frightened him.

Trystero. The word hung in the air as the act ended and all lights were for a moment cut; hung in the dark to puzzle Oedipa Maas, but not yet to exert the power over her it was to.

Over the years Rita had tailored her expectations of life and others accordingly – anticipating the worst at every turn and managing to find the damp, dark potential in any cloudless sky.

Being with Diana was a liberating, unholy adventure. It was also dark and strange and, tonight, even a little terrifying. James was right. Just like Lord Byron, she was mad, bad, and dangerous to know.

The curly-haired girl stayed on the bench and looked out into the dark seething ocean of park just beyond the sweet yellow tide pool of the street lamp.

But as we maneuvered my wolfdog up the stairs, riser by riser, the dark thoughts returned. I'd been targeted. Someone had come for me in the night. And there could only be one explanation. I didn't know how or why. I couldn't fathom the connection. But the truth was as plain as the smashed nails on Cooper's swollen paw. The Zodiac kidnapper was now after me.

rack which Cook had provided. She was about to return to the schoolroom and suggest that they start lessons at once in order to go out into the snow as soon as they had finished, when the door shot open and Lonnie appeared. Her face was bright red and her dark eyes

Sit down before you hurt your owies." "I am a Dark One!" he said, managing to stand upright at last, ignoring the pain and tearing feeling on his left side. "We do not have owies! We have grievous, nearly fatal injuries!" "Pia," Cora said(...). "Would you please get Alec a chair before he does more damage to, or topples over from, his grievous, nearly fatal injuries?

No amount of love can cure madness or unblacken one's dark moods. Love can help, it can make the pain more tolerable, but, always, one is beholden to medication that may or may not always work and may or may not be bearable

All I trust is whistling in the dark. from section 3 of "Radiantly Indefensible," The American Poetry Review (vol. 49, no. 3, May/June 2020)

Recklessness is beauty Ashbery says. When a car door opens in the dark at ninety miles an hour what rushes in is beauty. The wind's hymns are inaudible, the words chased off by scarecrows from the blurry fields. The murmuring heart beatless all those moments waiting to see if you will live.

My death, when it arrived, came from my horse. Of all things! Laughable. This was something I was to learn about death — how many ways besides war there are in which to die, the majority of them graceless and terrible, and so many of them full of a kind of dark mirth.

Where are you? You mean where in the house? Are you in your bedroom? Yes, I've been reading. Is this some kind of phone sex? It's just two old people talking in the dark, Addie said.

And where, on earth, dwell hope and truth? In childhood's uncorrupted heart; Alas! too soon to guileless youth The world doth its dark code impart!

Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket--safe, dark, motionless, airless--it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.

Perhaps it was because his hair was a shade too dark that his schoolmates did not call him "Red," and perhaps it was because of something else. At least four of his schoolmates, now living, agree that he possessed an unusually quick temper and a disposition to attack with waspish fury on small provocation

we lay there in the dark for a split second before the beast galumphed toward us. Meabh, always quick with a sword, sprang to her feet and charged the dragon head-on while I mostly just wondered who or what I'd offended in a past life that this one was peopled by dragons. Except I didn't have any past lives, so apparently I'd offended somebody in this life and was facing instant karma. That didn't really improve anything, in my ever so humble opinion.

To be quite accurate, human nature is simply what it is; it has its dark and its light sides. The sum of all colours is grey - light on a dark background or dark on light.

The unconscious is not just evil by nature, it is also the source of the highest good: not only dark but also light, not only bestial, semi-human, and demonic but superhuman, spiritual, and, in the classical sense of the word, 'divine'.

He knew he wouldn't sleep. Couldn't. The things Larry had told him swirled around the dark ceiling, darting in and out of his consciousness. He hoped strands of what he knew would somehow miraculously connect and he'd sit bolt upright with an epiphany and suddenly know the connections as well as the answers. Didn't happen.

It was dark inside and unevenly lighted. The mood was as intimate as a small beat-up warehouse. There were photos tacked to the walls and names carved into the pine paneling. The floor was gritty with dirt.