Quotes About Night

Well, she asked, how do you gentlemen like living in a haunted house? It's perfectly fine, Luke said, perfectly fine. It gives me an excuse to have a drink in the middle of the night.

Then there was only the soft night wind and the timeless sea. And the stars above, where it had all been written.

The dream does never trouble itself about things which are not deserving of our concern during the day, and trivialities which do not trouble us during the day have no power to pursue us whilst asleep.

Many different thoughts rise up in the darkness - like those gossamer plants that grow in the lake, oddly bewitching and pretty as they bob and sway; but enticing and sinister, they exert a dark pull as long as they're growing in the living, trickling mire. ANd yet as long as they're nothing but slimey brown clumps when the children pull them in to the boat. So many strange thoughts, both terrifying and enticing, grow in the night.

In the middle of the night she woke up when her father touched her shoulder in the dark. Get up, he said quietly. Do you hear it? Then she heard the singing at the corners of the house - the deep, full tone of the moisture-laden south wind. Water was streaming off the roof, and the rain whispered as it fell on soft, melting snow.

Why I left, I don't know. I have never found a place of more beautiful night sounds, have never found a place where I so completely belonged despite being different.

The heat was thick as curtains. Night was fixing to slide over the world and the cicadas were calming down for that hushed time between daylight and darkness, when crickets rosined their bows.

Some nights he thinks they are just a dream God is having

Then a senior KGB officer appeared and apologised for the misunderstanding. 'Perhaps we can go for a drink to smooth this over,' he suggested. We were all released into the night and agents gave each of us KGB cap badges as souvenirs.

At night I would climb the steps to the Sacre-Coeur, and I would watch Paris, that futile oasis, scintillating in the wilderness of space. I would weep, because it was so beautiful, and because it was so useless.

Ter a porta fechada, os lábios fechados: mas o meu silêncio proclama ordens.tu não dizes nada, e eu vou ou não dizes nada, e eu não vou. Toda a minha presença é palavra. Avança então, avança no lodo da noite. Decide. Eu decidi a tua morte e não estamos pagos. Mais ainda. Queria pedir misericórdia: não há misericórdia.

The death agony is the supreme dark night which is necessary even for the perfect if they are to attain to absolute purity, and for that reason it is better that it should be bitter.

The handsome dining room of the Hotel Wessex, with its gilded plaster shields and the mural depicting the Green Mountains, had been reserved for the Ladies' Night Dinner of the Fort Beulah Rotary Club.

She was like the revolutionist at fifty: not afraid of death, but bored by the probability of bad steaks and bad breaths and sitting up all night on windy barricades.

I say, Watson,' he whispered, 'would you be afraid to sleep in the same room as a lunatic, a man with softening of the brain, an idiot whose mind has lost its grip?' 'Not in the least,' I answered in astonishment. 'Ah, that's lucky,' he said, and not another word would he utter that night.

It came with the wind through the silence of the night, a long, deep mutter, then a rising howl, and then the sad moan in which it died away. Again and again it sounded, the whole air throbbing with it, strident, wild and menacing.

To all, to each, a fair good-night, And pleasing dreams, and slumbers light.

I feel an irrational craving to gaze at his familiar face from this place of safety all night. But I can't. And I'm being stupid, because this isn't old Joe, whom I loved and understood. This is new Joe, who is cruel and inexplicable. They only look the same.

I arrive home at eleven o'clock, exhausted and brain-dead, having got through only about half of Ketterman's

Last night was a night of bad dreams and ambiguous visions.

Blind, lost in the night, endless night that nursed you!

For you have confused the upper and lower worlds. You have thrust the child of this world into living night, You have kept from the gods below the child that is theirs. The one on a grave before her death, the other, Dead, denied the grave. This is your crime.

I tell you the truth, you gave me life my breath leapt up in you and now you bring down night upon my eyes.

I have only one friend, and that is echo. Why is it my friend? Because I love my sorrow, and echo does not take it away from me. I have only one confidant, and that is the silence of night. Why is it my confidant? Because it remains silent.