Quotes About Twilight

There was such a nice frosty, Octobery smell in the air, blent with the delightful odor of newly plowed fields. I walked on and on until twilight had deepened into a moonlit autumn night. I was alone but not lonely.

Cuando el crepúsculo deje su cortina caer y la fije en el cielo con una estrella, recuerda que allí, donde quiera que estés, tendrás una amiga que siempre te espera.

Slowly the banners of the sunset city gave up their crimson and gold; slowly the conqueror's pageant faded out. Twilight crept over the valley and the little group grew silent. Walter had been reading again that day in his beloved book of myths and he remembered how he had once fancied the Pied Piper coming down the valley on an evening just like this. He

Isn't 'dusk' a lovely word? I like it better than twilight. It sounds so velvety and shadowy and... and... dusky.

Susan Baker and the Anne Shirley of other days saw her coming, as they sat on the big veranda at Ingleside, enjoying the charm of the cat's light, the sweetness of sleepy robins whistling among the twilit maples

The gloaming that closed over us the cemetery had crawled inside his skin.

Gloaming," Dad said. "What?" "That word I couldn't remember. Gloaming. That short, murky time between half-light and dark.

It's exciting to kind of move forward and take hold of the opportunity that "Twilight's" afforded us, but it's also kind of sad.

What's needed today, now, more than ever, is 'Star Peace' for there is an ominous, mutual threat to all science fiction. It's called 'Twilight'. And it is really, really bad.

One can lose themselves in the twilight, when there are no colors to guide the way.

Laughter is day, and sobriety is night; a smile is the twilight that hovers gently between both, more bewitching than either.

Soon evening worked its way into the sky, and the city hunched itself down.

It is early, early morning. It's that time when it's still dark but you know the day is coming. Blue is bleeding through black. Stars are dying.

Once I heard Dantly tell Welton that the Native Americans used to call that particular part of the morning "between the wolf and the dog" because the sky is so deep blue and spooky or whatever that you can't tell what's what. Is that a wolf on that hill or a dog? A man or a monkey? A saint or the devil?

Outside, beyond where the light from our window fell, there was a deep inner well. The roof in which these rooms were built dropped steeply away, and facing us across the void were other similar dormers, unlit, their windows open into shadowy stillness. Above the roofline the sky was amorously transformed by the pink glare of the London dusk.

The dusk reeks of fornication and bad consciences.

Me costaba distinguir sus facciones. A nuestro alrededor, en el jardín, los árboles y el seto estaban grises, como modelados a partir de la pasta densa del crepúsculo.

When gloaming treads the heels of day And birds sit cowering on the spray, Along the flowery hedge I stray, To meet mine ain dear somebody.

To be alone—the eternal refrain of life. It wasn't better or worse than anything else. One talked too much about it. One was always and never alone. A violin, suddenly—somewhere out of a twilight—in a garden on the hills around Budapest. The heavy scent of chestnuts. The wind. And dreams crouched on one's shoulders like young owls, their eyes becoming lighter in the dusk. A night that never became night. The hour when all women were beautiful.

Once I fall fast asleep. Then wakening suddenly with a start I do not know where I am. I see the stars, I see the rockets, and for a moment have the impression that I have fallen asleep at a garden fête. I don't know whether it is morning or evening, I lie in the pale cradle of the twilight, and listen for soft words which will come, soft and near—am I crying? I put my hand to my eyes, it is fantastic, am I a child?

Summer of 1918 - Never has life in its niggardliness seemed to us so desirable as now; - the red poppies in the meadows round our billets, the smooth beetles on the blades of grass, the warm evenings in the cool, dim rooms, the black mysterious trees of the twilight, the stars and the flowing waters, dreams, and long sleep - O Life, life, life!

Die Worte wehten im Zwielicht hin und her, sie waren ohne Bedeutung, und das, was von Bedeutung war, war ohne Worte.

When the long shadows have all merged into one and the stars begin to gleam out over the lake and the domes of the palaces of the White City.

La medianoche se acerca, el fuego se marchita. Me quedaré un rato todavía, siempre me salen mejor las rimas junto a un fuego que se apaga.