Quotes About Night

La primera pareja humana, creada en un jardín el sexto día, tuvo por encima de ella la primera noche inconmensurable. Sin saberlo elllos, despuntó en sus cuerpos el apetito, la sed, el entusiasmo y el soeño. (...) no sabian si regresaría el sol, de modo que se abrazaron. Las bocas se vieron juntas e inventaron el beso, el primer fruto del conocimiento.

Nos encaminamos a la playa de los pescadores, despejada por la noche. Las barcas en seco alineadas ofrecían un apoyo para la espalda y entre ellas toda la quietud que hacía falta. Nos sentamos en la arena muy cerca, hombro con hombro, no nos entraban ganas de hablar. Algunas boces salian de las habitaciones de los pescadores. Del mar no, que hacía cosquilas a la orilla.

I have heard African lions roar and the hacksaw cough of leopards just outside my safari tent, but neither of these is as haunting, as unsettling, as the savage symphony of gray wolves on a cold, still, northern night.

When he cannot sleep, he reads poetry to me. His deep voice covers the top half of my sky—

I wasn't a girl anymore. Just before they shoved me through the curtained doorway, I looked up into the night sky and saw the silvery moon that Artemis ruled. Now the moon ruled me.

By the time I got home at night, my eyes were so chlorinated I saw rings around every light.

Silence is the creation of space, a space that memory needs to use . . . an incubator. We're dealing here with dimensions, stretching our inner muscles, pushing aside any interference. We're dealing with numbers, but not counting. Silence demands the nature of night, even in full day, it demands shadows.

Words melt in reflections; that's why there's a uselessness to this night, to my missing the river, to the delaying of love... light is picking up momentum in the vicinity of the oaks that cover this property, this silence.

Night is an element of love; like fog. It liberates space, lets freshness cross it. Its magic elevates the body, brings to the surface the mystery of just being alive, being. With or without stars and galaxies, the sky becomes a private territory—the imagination's own scope. These are moments when one reaches all there is between the moon and oneself. — Etel Adnan, Etel Adnan: on Love and the Cost We Are Not Willing to Pay Today (Hatje Cantz Verlag GmbH & Co KG, 2011)

A typical thought by way of example: at night, when we say we're going to sleep, and we get into bed and shut our eyes, we're not really asleep. We're just pretending. We shut our eyes and breathe rhythmically, pretending to be asleep, until the deceit grows slowly real. And maybe that's how it is with death.

For the night was not impartial. No, the night loved some more than others, served some more than others.

Pela noite adiante, com a morte na algibeira, cada homem procura um rio para dormir, e com os pés na lua ou num grão de areia enrola-se no sono que lhe quer fugir. Cada sonho morre às mãos doutro sonho. Dez-réis de amor foram gastos a esperar. O céu que nos promete um anjo bêbado é um colchão sujo num quinto andar.

Life has only one expression, the one where the rooster crows, the one where you listen to it, moved, knowing that the night cannot contain it.

Around you this night a thousand million firefly anatomies breathe in and out in their slow-burning liturgical glow.

My mother was accursed the night she bore me,and I am faint with envy of all the dead.

The day for honest men, the night for thieves.

It was a night to dream about: windless, warm and scented, with a streak of gold and amethyst still lingering in the sky.

Knowing it was her last night on the Arabella , Maia fought against sleep. She must remember it all--the lapping of the water against the side of the boat, the white moths, the fireflies… Finn, too, was awake. "When we're grown up I'll come back for you, I promise. No one can stop us then.

La neve cadde tutta la notte. Cadde senza fare rumore e coprì il terreno gelato e le foglie morte sotto l'acero, e piegò i rami delle conifere, e per ore e ore cadde come farina dalle nuvole alte color madreperla.

When she of the night Drinks from he of the day The curse of the moon May the sun's curse allay. When she succumbs To the were's Scarlet Heat And is bred by the wolf Then meat may she eat And nevermore fear The sun's golden light When she drinks from the one Who howls in the night.

I remember when I made 'A Scanner Darkly,' going, 'I hope people see it in theater - but I think it's going to be seen in someone's room at two in the morning.' It's that kind of movie. And I would have loved if it had been available on multiple formats at the moment it opened.

After everyone's gone to bed, I still find myself sitting at the computer writing songs. It's a nice reminder that this has always been a kind of hobby that I get on with because I really love it.

I hate light... I feel like at night, it's safer. If anything happens, there's a way to hide at night. Another thing I hate about light is it reminds me about being in a refugee camp and being outside.

Use coconut oil to remove makeup, and do it before going to bed.