Quotes About Night

Each and every day, I get One letter like a bride. I'm responding to my friend, Writing late at night: "On my way into the dark, I've stopped in white death's den. My dear, don't leave an evil mark On another man." And a brilliant star gleams Between two trees at night, Calmly promising that dreams Will soon be satisfied.

Insomnia is when both sides of the pillow feel hot

Now the pillow's Hot on both sides. A second candle Dies, the ravens cry Endlessly. No sleep all night, Too late to think of sleep… How unbearably white The blind's white deep. Hello, Morning!

If you were a star, I would gaze by the window till dawn

Then everyone leaves, and you are left, each night, to your own devices with a crowd of interesting people - most of whom you don't know - sitting in the dark.

And then she took her wishes with her into her sleep.

But in Potsdam people come up and say'—he puts on a small sorry voice—'"You were right. Capitalism is even worse than you told us it would be. In the GDR you could go out alone at night as a woman! You could leave your apartment door open!"' You didn't need to, I think, they could see inside anyway.

Se pasó todo el trayecto pensativo, contemplando la noche por la ventanilla... Se había enamorado.

Niemand fragt, was in dieser Nacht auf allen Straßen, in allen Winkeln und entlegenen Wäldern im ganzen Land geschiet. Es ist eine Nacht ohne Gesetz. Es gibt kein Verbrechen, weil es keine Ankläger gibt. Es gibt keine Untat, denn keiner fordert Rechenschaft. Niemand hört, niemand sieht. Die Nacht hält sich die Ohren zu. Die Nacht macht sich im Dunkeln blind. Es wird nicht Morgen. Es dämmert nicht. Es wird nicht Tag.

During the sleepless hours of the night a thought came to me that seemed important. I got up in the dark and wrote it down. In the morning I read: 'I went looking for loneliness. But it found me.

And in the night my own mother came to the window to meet me, strange, solitary; splendid with countless stars; my mother Night; mine, lovely, mine. My home…

Night is the worst time, when her vitality sinks to its lowest ebb and she's frightened of everything. Unable to read or do anything else, she wanders about the house like a woman living with ghosts, who can't find the way or the will to return to the living world.

It is not easy to describe my mother. Remote and starry, her sad stranger's grace did not concern the landscape of the day. Should I say that she was beautiful or that she did not love me? Have shadows beauty? Does the night love her child?

transparent as the shadows of icicles, incorporated in the night-plasma.

started here. Helen walked back to her hotel slowly, enjoying the cool of the night and the beauty of Paris. The streets were busy, and even in the side street where she crossed to her hotel there were people in the pavement cafés. She toyed with the idea of having one for the road, but decided to call it a night. She had a flight to Grand

The stars shine only in darkness

Darkness was already coming down like a cloak on the deserted streets,

You do not feel like dancing and there are no daffodils, only walls, your bedroom door, and the quiet of the house, tucked asleep in the night's thick cover. You wait for dawn. You wait for your dreams. You wait in the night, and you hunger.

She had a hot date instead of a long, numb night with her mobile.

Nothing wrong with the way your mother looks. First thing in the morning, last thing at night, and every hour in between, she looks just fine.

But during the day... that was life. The collection of small details that made up a shared day were what gave richness to what happened in the bed at night.

He slid into bed, turned off the light…and groaned as an image of a wise, skinny old crone filled his mind. No, he begged the still night. Sweet Darkness, heed the prayer of one of your sons. Now that she's so close, let her be young enough to want me. Let her be young enough to need me. The night gave him no answer, and the sky was a predawn gray before he finally slept." - Daemon

No matter how fancy it all looked or how large the city, humans were still closing the equivalent of stockade doors at night and shivering in fear of what watched them from the woods and fields.

Mother Night and May The Darkness Be Merciful!