Quotes About Dawn

Wait until morning," Leila told me. "That's when the choir comes out. Sometimes I think I should have called this place the Bird Hotel.

Bat Wraps Up" Belly full, he drops down from the echoing room of night. One last swift swoop, one bug plucked from the air with cupped tail, scooped neatly to mouth. As dark grows thin and body heavy, he tumbles to tree and grasps bark, folds that swirl of cape tipped with tiny claws and snags the spot that smells like home, Then ...upside flip, lock on grip... stretch, hang, relax, yawn... dawn.

El día empieza a medianoche, en mitad de la oscuridad. Y luego todo es luz.

Silence which in breaking up at dawn will speak differently.

I breathed in and out, perfume and smoke, perfume and smoke, and we lay like that for a long time, until I heard the seagulls crying, sadder than a funeral, and I knew it was almost morning.

I'm told I was born at dawn. The priest in the church, the maulvi in the mosque, the Hindu monks in the dharamshala prayed for me. An early overdose of religion, which might explain why I turned out to be an atheist.

Draußen verwässert erstes Morgenlicht das satte Nachtschwarz des Himmels. Es ist der Moment, in dem Gestern zu Morgen wird und es für eine kurze Zeit kein Heute gibt.

In Australia, the dawn is an arsonist who pours petrol along the horizon, throws a match on it and watches it burn.

Kathleen Mavourneen! the gray dawn is breaking,The horn of the hunter is heard on the hill.

el Barrio de las Letras, el barrio en el que habían establecido su residencia estudiantes, artistas, escritores, pintores, el barrio donde Madrid no cierra ni siquiera al amanecer.

The slanted light of dawn was rippling through the windowpane, and Miss Anne Sainsbury was huddled beneath her thin blanket, wondering, as she often did, where she would find money for her next meal." That was really good. Even he wanted to know what happened to Miss Sainsbury, and he was making it up.

If this morning wasn't enjoyable, at least it was...shall we say...interesting, and my clothing was worth the sacrifice if it means we've reached a truce of sorts. I have no wish to be awakened before dawn next week only to be informed I have to single-handedly slaughter a cow." Her eyes widened. How did he know?

Anthony knew he was being fanciful, but when he gazed upon her face, he could not help thinking of the new dawn, of that exact moment when the sun was creeping over the horizon, painting the sky with its subtle palette of peaches and pinks.

So it's conceivable I'll do something insane, or more insane than Dawn of the Dead. If that's possible.

I felt more comfortable in TV than in the film world where the players were more erudite and intellectual.

I would hold the rosy, slender fingers of the dawn for you.

Alba As cool as the pale wet leaves of lily-of-the-valley She lay beside me in the dawn.

It's always the darkest just before the glorious dawn.

The weeping of the guitar begins. The goblets of dawn are smashed. The weeping of the guitar begins. Useless to silence it. Impossible to silence it. It weeps monotonously as water weeps as the wind weeps over snowfields. Impossible to silence it. It weeps for distant things. Hot southern sands yearning for white camellias. Weeps arrow without target evening without morning and the first dead bird on the branch. Oh, guitar! Heart mortally wounded by five swords.

La aurora de Nueva York tiene cuatro columnas de cieno y un huracán de negras palomas que chapotean las aguas podridas

I see fetal sciences in you, mummified poems, and bones of my romantic secrets and old innocence. Shall I hang you on the wall of my emotional museum, beside the dark, chill, sleeping irises of my evil? Or shall I spread you over the pines ?suffering book of my love? so you can learn about the song the nightingale offers the dawn?...

Ya suben los dos compadres hacia las altas barandas. Dejando un rastro de sangre. Dejando un rastro de lágrimas. Temblaban en los tejados farolillos de hojalata. Mil panderos de cristal herían la madrugada. Now the two friends climb up, up to the high balconies. Leaving a trail of blood. Leaving a trail of teardrops. Tin bell vines were trembling on the roofs. A thousand crystal tambourines struck at the dawn light.

The labyrinths that time creates vanish. (Only the desert remains.) The heart, fountain of desire, vanishes. (Only the desert remains.) The illusion of dawn and kisses vanish. Only the desert remains. Undulating desert.

The night above. We two. Full moon. I started to weep, you laughed. Your scorn was a god, my laments moments and doves in a chain. The night below. We two. Crystal of pain. You wept over great distances. My ache was a clutch of agonies over your sickly heart of sand. Dawn married us on the bed, our mouths to the frozen spout of unstaunched blood. The sun came through the shuttered balcony and the coral of life opened its branches over my shrouded heart. - Night of Sleepless Love