Quotes About Twilight

Los pájaros nocturnos picotean las primeras estrellas que centellean como mi alma cuando te amo.

Watching the day slowly bloom into night. That's how it always seemed to me: not the fading of a withered flower, but the opening of some dark, rich blossom, with unexpected hues and heavy scents.

His queen is a ghost of what she must once have been. A pale woman with a perpetual twilight in her eyes, who rarely speaks. But within her silence, she carries like a rich treasure the tales of Serre.

Dusk was falling quickly. It was just after 7 P.M., and the month was October.

The sunset was that long, achingly beautiful balance of stillness in which the sun seemed to hover like a red balloon above the western horizon, the entire sky catching fire from the death of day; a sunset unique to the American Midwest and ignored by most of its inhabitants. The twilight brought the promise of coolness and the certain threat of night.

Fading light buttered the ridges until shadows licked them clean and they were lost to nightfall.

Feeling indisposed towards the evening, I drove up the ancient plains. The setting sun is unspeakably beautiful, Only it is approaching nightfall.

It's nearly full dark. We should go." "We? I thought you were going to leave me alone." "I lied," Jace said without a shred of embarrassment.

In alto, lo sfavillio delle stelle cominciò a impallidire, appannandosi, e nel firmamento dilagò la promessa perlacea del nuovo giorno.

Voices of boys were by the river-side. Sleep mothered them; and left the twilight sad.

The evening advanced. The shadows lengthened. The waters of the lake grew pitchy black. The gliding of the ghostly swans became rare and more rare.

The quiet twilight was still trembling on the topmost ridges of the heath; and the view of London below me had sunk into a black gulf in the shadow of the cloudy night, when I stood before the gate of my mother's cottage.

Olía las curvas del río tras el crepúsculo y vi la última luz supina y serena sobre los charcos dejados por la marea como trozos de un espejo roto, después, tras ellos comenzaban las luces sobre el aire pálido, temblando un poco como mariposas que revoloteasen en la distancia.

She said nothing. She walked beside me, under my elbow sort of, eating. We went on. It was quiet, hardly anyone about getting the odor of honeysuckle all mixed She would have told me not to let me sit there on the steps hearing her door twilight slamming hearing Benjy still crying Supper she would have to come down then getting honeysuckle all mixed up in it   We reached the corner.

she had enormous eyes and a laugh that pealed thrillingly in the twilight.

Dark came early and stayed full of lights and the shouts of children.

It would be absurd, a ridiculous myopia, to hold up October as a simple lens through which to view the struggles of today. But it has been a long century, a long dusk of spite and cruelty, the excrescence and essence of its time. Twilight, even remembered twilight, is better than no light at all. It would be equally absurd to say that there is nothing that we can learn from the revolution. To deny that the sumerki of October can be ours, and that it need not always be followed by night.

Twilight, even remembered twilight, is better than no light at all. It would be equally absurd to say that there is nothing we can learn from the revolution. To deny that the sumerki of October can be ours, and that it need not always be followed by night.

Twilight, even remembered twilight, is better than no light at all.

I have always loved the history of Los Angeles and Twilight in the City of Angels nails it. --Danny Trejo, actor

Without light, how can you keep the sight of the eyes? Without a future, how can you preserve the government? [...] We could have a most dilligent Home Secretary of Lunchtime. We could have an excellent Prime Minister of the Quietest Part of the Late Afternoon. But when twilight comes -do you see?- our world disappears. It cannot see beyond the day because you have taken tomorrow. And because you have tomorrow in front of your eyes, you cannot see what is being done today.

JENNET What can you see Out there? THOMAS Out here? Out here is a sky so gentle Five stars are ventured on it. I can see The sky's pale belly glowing and growing big, Soon to deliver the moon. And I can see A glittering smear, the snail-trail of the sun Where it crawled with its golden shell into the hills. A darkening land sunken into prayer Lucidly in dewdrops of one syllable, Nunc dimittis. I see twilight, madam. JENNET But what can you hear? THOMAS The howl of human jackals-.

Perhaps it was evening, the bruised plum of dusk

I saw nothing more now than the pallor of my face, with deep orbits, buried in the twilight, and my mouth filled with a silence which gently but surely stifles and destroys.