Quotes About Night

It's not for Zeus's daughter to be A prey to common fears, I never feel Chill fingered panic's touch. But the horrors Creeping out of Old Night's womb Since the first beginnings of all things, 8940 With shapes as many as the fiery vapors Billowing from a crater's fiery mouth, Make even heroes' hearts turn faint. When

Alike to the slave and his oppressor cometh night with sweet refreshment, and half of the life of the most wretched is gladdened by the soothings of sleep.

Never shall I forget that night, the first night in camp, which has turned my life into one long night, seven times cursed and seven times sealed.

Still let my tyrants know, I am not doomed to wear Year after year in gloom, and desolate despair; A messenger of Hope comes every night to me, And offers for short life, eternal liberty.

All writers have this vague hope that the elves will come in the night and finish any stories.

It is a very funny thing that the sleepier you are, the longer you take about getting to bed.

Long is the night to him who is awake; long is a mile to him who is tired; long is life to the foolish who do not know the true law.

The saddest of all failures is that of a soul, with its capabilities and possibilities, failing of life everlasting, and entering upon that night of death upon which morning never dawns.

The short span of life forbids us to spin out hope to any length. Soon will night be upon you, and the fabled Shades, and the shadowy Plutonian home.

The serene, silent beauty of a holy life is the most powerful influence in the world, next to the night of God.

The darker the night, the brighter the stars.

The night is just a part of the day

It is spring, moonless night in the small town, starless and bible-black.

They dance between their arclamps and our skull,Impose their shots, throwing the nights away.We watch the show of shadows kiss or kill,Flavoured of celluloid give love the lie.

It is spring, moonless night in the small town, starless and bible-black, the cobbledstreets silent and the hunched courters'-and-rabbits' wood limping invisible down to the sloeblack, slow, black, crowblack, fishingboat-bobbing sea.

Looking through my bedroom window, out into the moonlight and the unending smoke-colored snow, I could see the lights in the windows of all the other houses on our hill and hear the music rising from them up the long, steadily falling night. I turned the gas down, I got into bed. I said some words to the close and holy darkness, and then I slept.

Time passes. Listen. Time passes. Come closer now. Only you can hear the houses sleeping in the streets in the slow deep salt and silent black, bandaged night.

And nightly under the simple stars As I rode to sleep the owls were bearing the farm away All the moon long I heard, blessed among stables, the nightjars Flashing into the dark.

And you, my father, there on the sad height, Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray. Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

My first thought when jumping out of bed in the middle of the night was going to throw myself into the sea from the cliff top.

O for the night that was ending, for the sleep and the wakefulness, the toughness and tenderness mixed, the sweet temper, the safety in darkness. Would such a night ever return?

my father moved through dooms of lovethrough sames of am through haves of give,singing each morning out of each nightmy father moved through depths of height

We looked at the sky. So many stars, it seemed like a celebration, a grand, illicit party the galaxy was holding after the humans had been put to bed.

So many stars, it seemed like a celebration, a grand, illicit party the galaxy was holding after the humans had been put to bed.