Quotes About Night

once I saw you in moonlight and I can tell you - the silvery dust of the stars doesn't shimmer like you...

paint in blue and black...sometimes gray - the colors of night - occasionally I surprise you with a mustard yellow, but then, I am a poet ...

have I told you? - your eyes are a dark poem of dancing snow at midnight ...

I will find once again the light of your beauty - your colored windows in the night...

the religion of the heart is as intimate as a wish breathed to the night sky...

I remember your profile in darkness outlined by stars ...

Deb and I were married on a snowy night - wind cross-wove a veil of snow for her then threw confetti at us as we left the lighted church...

my sacred landscape is the foothills of the stars - I go there often to sleep ...

what else would a poet priest do on an endless night, but write of love?...

I am in love with the stars of night - I have made them audible...

there's nothing more lovely than your lamplight, seen from a dark street...

He dreaded the sound of his father's car in the driveway at night, knowing he would have to protect his mother, and probably be beaten in the process.

As I went through the city by day I saw shadows in sunlight; But in the night I saw everywhere Stars within the darkness.

Here upon earth there is life, and then death, Dawn, and later nightfall, Fire, and the quenching of embers: But why should I not remember that my night is dawn in another part of the world, If the idea fits my fancy?

Wind of the night, Questing, swaying, calling, Rustle of dull grasses, Why do you trouble me?

The rain thickened; then slacked, then came down again in floods; the night crackled and roared with change and iron cold. Drunk with coziness, the pup wallowed beside me and groaned, and I remember wondering, before I slept, a little more about the relationship of storms to man … If, being animal, we ring like guitar strings to nature's furies, what hope can there be for our ultimate, planned peacefulness?

The Night is mother of the Day,The Winter of the Spring,And ever upon old DecayThe greenest mosses cling.

Last night, lost in spaces between star—bays and lakes of clouds, I tossed and turned looking for you

you know the way of the wind in the night—the desolate alleys my soul takes

I love it when the dark bottle of night spills out, and the Moon writes in chalk about us

night, and the moon a blur above— I wonder where the world hides you, and if perhaps you still love me

The mind is a dynamo in the dark, an engine endlessly running, powering nothing. It thrashes in the night, seeking daylight, inventing its own.

A menudo he pensado que la locura es un poco como la noche, debido a las distintas formas en que se extendió durante varios años por mi corazón y mi mente, unas veces con dureza o rapidez, otras con lentitud y sutileza, de modo que apenas era consciente de que estaba dominándome.

Night brings doubt. Darkness sows fears.