Quotes About Night

Now come days of begging, days of theft. Days of riding where there rode no soul save he. He's left behind the pinewood country and the evening sun declines before him beyond an endless swale and dark falls here like a thunderclap and a cold wind sets the weeds to gnashing. The night sky lies so sprent with stars that there is scarcely space of black at all and they fall all night in bitter arcs and it is so that their numbers are no less.

They came to know the night skys well. Western eyes that read more geometric constructions than those names given by the ancients.

In the nights sometimes now he'd wake in the black and freezing waste out of softly colored worlds of human love, the songs of birds, the sun.

Lejos, en la llanura, en la noche sin orilla, podían ver como en un reflejo de su propio fuego en un lago oscuro el fuego de los vaqueros a unos ocho kilómetros. Por la noche llovió y la lluvia silbó en el fuego y los caballos se acercaron desde la oscuridad con sus ojos rojos parpadeando inquietos y por la mañana hacía frío y todo era gris y el sol tardó mucho en salir.

It was still dark and the fire had long since died, still dark and quiet with that silence that seems to be of itself listening

The horrors of the past lose their edge, and in the doing they blind us to a world careening toward a darkness beyond the bitterest speculation. It's sure to be interesting. When the onset of universal night is finally acknowledged as irreversible even the coldest cynic will be astonished at the celerity with which every rule and stricture shoring up this creaking edifice is abandoned and every aberrancy embraced. It should be quite a spectacle. However brief.

To seek out the upright. No fall but preceded by a declination. He took great marching steps into the nothingness, counting them against his return. Eyes closed, arms oaring. Upright to what? Something nameless in the night, lode or matrix. To which he and the stars were common satellite. Like the great pendulum in its rotunda scribing through the long day movements of the universe of which you may say it knows nothing and yet know it must.

I jumped for it and lit in a snowbank and what I'm goin to tell you you'll think peculiar but it's the god's truth. That was in nineteen and thirty one and if I live to be a hunnerd year old I dont think I'll ever see anything as pretty as that train on fire goin up that mountain and around the bend and them flames lightin up the snow and the trees and the night.

They went on. In the nights sometimes now he'd wake in the black and freezing waste out of softly colored worlds of human love, the songs of birds, the sun.

The night was cold and clear and the sparks rising from the fire raced hot and red among the stars.

With full dark he came forth, a solitary traveler going south. He walked all night.

They wont ride at night, said Brown. The recruit looked back at the figures gathered about the keg in that scoured and darkening waste. Why wont they? he said. Brown spat. Because it's dark, he said.

He slept little and he slept poorly.

The dream wakes us to tell us to remember. Maybe there's nothing to be done. Maybe the question is whether the terror is a warning about the world or about ourselves. The night world from which you are brought upright in your bed gasping and sweating. Are you waking from something you have seen or from something that you are?

Talih hiç de böyle bir ÅŸey olmayabilirdi. Karanl?kta yatm?? ölülere haset etmediÄŸi geceler nadirdi.

They camped that night on the foreplain at the foot of a talus slope and the murder that had been reckoned upon took place.

The moon was already a quarter ways up. All but day bright. He felt like something in a jar.

The world will take your life. But above all and lastly the world does not know that you are here. You think that you understand this. But you don't. Not in your heart you don't. If you did you would be terrified. And you're not. Not yet. And now, good night.

There was a paper bag on the night table that held things he'd

Recurrences of dreams he'd had in the mountains came and went and the second night he woke from uneasy sleep and lay in the world alone.

We might have very different notions about the nature of the oncoming night. But as darkness descends does it matter?

Night fell long and cool through the woods about him and a spectral quietude set in. As if something were about that crickets and nightbirds held in dread.

The world will take your life. But above all and lastly the world does not know that you are here. You think that you understand this. But you dont. Not in your heart you dont. If you did you would be terrified. And you're not. Not yet. And now, good night.

The streetlamps stood in globes of vapor and the buildings were dark and sweating. At times the city seemed older than Nineveh.