Quotes About Night

As night falls the city extricates itself from the work of the day and the stars prepare to come out. These were not the stars I was used to in the skies of my town and in the Land of Israel, but they are stars nevertheless. I'm grateful to them because even in a strange land they console me.

Was she being too bold? Too shameless? Too daft? She was daft, to be standing half-dressed like this in a stable, when all it would take was a groom coming down from his room above to turn this into the most mortifying night of her life.

Se echó a reír. Vaya, pensé, la noche es día. Así que todo era teatro.

Amplified by the still of night, the book opened -- a gust of wind.

The night is mine, my own time, to do with it as I will, as long as I am quiet. As long as I don't move. As long as I lie still. The difference between lie and lay . Lay is always passive.

What breaks in daybreak? Is it the night? Is it the sun, cracked in two by the horizon like an egg, spilling out light?

Why is it always such a surprise? thinks Toby. The moon. Even though we know it's coming. Every time we see it, it makes us pause, and hush.

But unshed tears can turn rancid. So can memory. So can biting your tongue. My bad nights were beginning. I couldn't sleep.

Why is it that night falls, instead of rising, like the dawn? Yet if you look east, at sunset, you can see night rising, not falling; darkness lifting into the sky, up from the horizon...

The moon. Even though we know it's coming. Every time we see it, it makes us pause, and hush.

In the daylight we know what's gone is gone, but at night it's different. Nothing gets finished, not dying, not mourning;

Now, it's full night, clear, moonless and filled with stars, which are not eternal as we once thought, which are not where we think they are. If they were sounds, they would be echoes, of something that happened millions of year ago: a word made of numbers. Echoes of light, shining out of the midst of nothing. It's old light, and there's not much of it. But it's enough to see by.

She longs for tonight, she longs to skip the day that's just begun and plunge headlong into the night as if into a pool; a pool with the moon reflected in it. She longs to swim in liquid moonlight.

The night is mine, my own time, to do with it as I will, as long as I am quiet. As long as I don't move. As long as I lie still.

Maybe night falls because it's heavy, a thick curtain pulled up over the eyes.

At night, Toby breathed herself in. Her new self. Her skin smelled like honey and salt. And earth

Night falls. Or has fallen. Why is it that night falls, instead of rising, like the dawn?

Now it's full night, clear, moonless and filled with stars, which are not eternal as was once thought, which are not where we think they are. If they were sounds, they would be echoes, of something that happened millions of years ago: a word made of numbers. Echoes of light, shining out of the midst of nothing. It's old light, and there's not much of it. But it's enough to see by.

Why is it that night falls, instead of rising, like the dawn? Yet if you look east, at sunset, you can see night rising, not falling; darkness lifting into the sky, up from the horizon, like a black sun behind cloud cover. Like smoke from an unseen fire, a line of fire just below the horizon, brushfire or a burning city. Maybe night falls because it's heavy, a thick curtain pulled up over the eyes.

There were places you didn't want to walk, precautions you took that had to do with locks on windows and doors, drawing the curtains, leaving on lights. These things you did were like prayers; you did them and you hoped they would save you. And for the most part they did. Or something did; you could tell by the fact that you were still alive. But all of that was pertinent only in the night, and had nothing to do with the man you loved, at least in daylight.

O, lente, lente currite noctis equi!

Are you an evening bird Watching the moon Singing Alone, Alone, Singing Dead Too Soon?

And it's late at night: a cloudless night, as I observed while walking here. The full moon is out, casting her equivocal corpse-glow over all.

She is the witch you burned by daylight and crept from your home to consult & bribe at night. The love that tortured you you blamed on her.