Quotes About Night

Die Trichter Zwei Trichter wandeln durch die Nacht. Durch ihres Rumpfs verengten Schacht fließt weißes Mondlicht still und heiter auf ihren Waldweg u.s. w.

A fool I was to sleep at noon, And wake when night is chilly Beneath the comfortless cold moon; A fool to pluck my rose too soon, A fool to snap my lily. My garden-plot I have not kept; Faded and all-forsaken, I weep as I have never wept: Oh it was summer when I slept, It's winter now I waken. Talk what you please of future spring And sun-warm'd sweet to-orrow: Stripp'd bare of hope and everything, No more to laugh, no more to sing, I sit alone with sorrow.

The stars rise, the moon bends her arc, Each glowworm winks her spark

Rest, rest, for evermore Upon a messy shore; Rest, rest at the heart's core Till time shall cease: Sleep that no pain shall wake, Night that no morn shall break Till joy shall overtake Her perfect peace.

A Daughter of Eve... A fool I was to sleep at noon, And wake when night is chilly Beneath the comfortless cold moon; A fool to pluck my rose too soon, A fool to snap my lily.

That night the rain began to fall so thickly and heavily, it seemed as though the bowl of the ocean had risen into the sky and upended itself.

Let no one despair, even though in the darkest night the last star of hope may disappear.

Stood off and on during the night, determining not to come to anchor till morning, fearing to meet with shoals continued our course in the morning and as the island was found to be six or seven leagues distant, and the tide was against us, it was noon when we arrived there.

I've only one small silver night to spend So show me no luxuries. It will be enough If you spare me a spider, and when it spins I'll see The six days of Creation in a web And a fly caught on the seventh. And if the dew Should rise in the web, I may well die a Christian.

Only tragedies arrived with such urgency in the small hours before dawn.

The beauteous eyes of the spring's fair night With comfort are downward gazing.

The foolish race of mankind are swarming below in the night; they shriek and rage and quarrel -- and all of them are right.

skate across the icy sea of oilcloth between me and the bookcase. I kneel up in bed and put on Rob's coat. Its thick, stiff wool is becoming supple again from the heat of my body night after night. I put the sleeve to my face and

The fire melts into velvety blackness. There are stars in the blackness, and I want to count them one by one, but they're dancing too fast...

The stars wire the sky together and the crickets fill the shadows of the earth with their breath.

writing those lines in his small kitchen, the light wet on the oilskin tablecloth, the night close against the window.

Streets are like children, David thought; the small ones go to bed first.

Down at the edge of Mexican town, where the pavement gave out and the yellow dust drifted ankle-deep over the hard-packed adobe, a radio was moaning a dreamy beat into the night. It was the kind of music that needs two people, but only one was listening...

Most nights she went with the moon, and when it was round she stayed in my biggest bedroom and wouldn't answer the thing that asked her to let it out (let you out from where? let me out from the small, the hot, the take me out of the fire i am ready i am hard like the stones you ate, bitter like those husks) the moonlight striped her, marked out places where the whispering thing would slip through and she would unfold.

maybe she grew one more in the night and that's why the night sleep was so deep, it was a matching pair of sleeps. —

A library at night is full of sounds: The unread books can't stand it any longer and announce their contents, some boasting, some shy, some devious. But the sound I heard wasn't the sound of a book.

Was turning it this way and that in order to catch fireflies in the billowing, transparent left sleeve of her gown.

The stormy night turned the window of Lucy's room into a door;

Since neither of us needs sleep we take night buses, sharing earphones and listening to knitting podcasts. If anyone else on the bus notices anything about us they assume it's because they're drunk. I've