Quotes About Dawn

But even the longest and darkest of nights passes sooner or later. And when the pale dawn came, they glimpsed the Ivory Tower on the horizon.

Charlie often told me we were living on borrowed time out here. I don't want to borrow any more time. I want time to stop so that tomorrow never comes, so that dawn will never happen.

Half a page --- and the morning is already ancient.

I sing in the morning.

I don't think about Norfolk as I write songs, sadly no! But things like 'High' is a song about watching the dawn come up over the sea, and I've had many of those situations.

I'm an early riser. I get up between five and six, have coffee, and read for a couple of hours before everyone else gets up.

There's nothing that I love more than predawn. I'm with the dogs, I make coffee, and there's no one up.

Even this late it happens: the coming of love, the coming of light.

I love to watch cities wake up, and Paris wakes up more abruptly, more startlingly, than any place I know.

A new life has begun.

In the freakish pink and gray of dawn I took his death to bed with me and his death was my bed and in every corner of the room it hid from the light, and then it was the light of day and the next day and all the days to follow, and it moved into the future like the sharp tip of a pen moving across an empty page.

Serve God and be cheerful, look upward, beyond, beyond the darkness of masks, the surprises of dawn, in the deep green grasses of the blood-stained world.

You come out; it is still dark. The door creaks, or perhaps you sneeze, or the snow crunches under your foot, and hares start up from the far cabbage patch and leap away, leaving the snow criss-crossed with tracks. In the distance dogs begin to howl and it takes a long time before the quieten down. The cocks have finished their crowing and have nothing left to say. Then dawn breaks.

They say that people who are near death die generally at the change to dawn or at the turn of the tide.

As a sad, grey dawn broke over the hillside he came upon a ruined cottage [named Broken-Heart Farm] which did not so much seem to have broken its heart, as its neck.

Even the sun-clouds this morning cannot manage such skirts Nor the woman in the ambulance Whore red heart blooms through her coat so astoundingly .... Oh my God, what am I That these late mouths should cry open In a forest of frost, in a dawn of cornflowers

The wet dawn inks are doing their blue dissolve. On their blotter of fog the trees Seem a botanical drawing. Memories growing, ring on ring, A series of weddings. Knowing neither abortions nor bitchery, Truer than women, They seed so effortlessly! Tasting the winds, that are footless, Waist-deep in history. Full of wings, otherworldliness. In this, they are Ledas. O mother of leaves and sweetness Who are these pietas? The shadows of ringdoves chanting, but chasing nothing.

The brilliance of morning is in sharp contrast with the darkness of night - Woman thou art loosed

Dawn points, and another day Prepares for heat and silence. Out at sea the dawn wind Wrinkles and slides. I am here Or there, or elsewhere. In my beginning.

Unreal City, Under the brown fog of a winter dawn, A crowd flowed over London Bridge, so many, I had not thought death had undone so many.

The morning comes to consciousness

Every moment is a fresh beginning

What is beyond the darkness? Some say chaos and darker night. I say sunrise.

free time is an illusion. It's what you get when you die and the gods reward you for a life spent working from dawn until midnight.