Quotes About Night

Together they knitted whole the fabric of night where violence had rent it. Everything was always changing and everything was always the same.

Fleming doubted all this but he listened anyway and thought with a kind of sardonic amusement that before the night was over life itself might grasp him by the scruff of the neck and jerk him out of the doldrums he seemed grounded in and into its swifter currents.

When the plane exploded fire went streaking down the wall of night like trails of phosphorous from a firework of unreckonable magnitude and cascaded away in a shower of falling stars, touching the velvet balsams with a profound and eerie beauty.

the near dark streets where Friday night's business began to accomplish itself, strolling couples, arm in arm, girls bright as just pricked flowers, halfdrunk belligerent men herded homeward by fierce women with bitter persecuted faces...

Prayer must be the key of the morning and lock of the night.

He nodded, sagely, at the lot of us, and yawned; then glanced at the clock. "Out you go!" he said, in friendly fashion, using the recognised formula. "I want a sleep." We rose, shook him by the hand, and went out presently into the night and the quiet of the Embankment; and so to our homes.

Immanuel Kant is credited with saying, "If the stars came out only once in a lifetime, we'd stay up all that night." Now we stay up late in Plato's cave just to watch the enervated stars on The Tonight Show.

When darkness comes over your soul, it doesn't come in light shades; it descends with all the black of a moonless night.

and the smoke from the fire rose straight up toward the arc of the heavens, which was sugared with stars.

I sat on the steps of my father's church thinking how much I loved the dark. The taste of what it offered sweet on the tongue of my imagination. The delicious burn of trespass on my conscience. I was a sinner. I knew that without a doubt. But I was not alone. And the night was the accomplice of us all.

I loved the dark. The taste of what it offered sweet on the tongue of my imagination. The de licious burn of trespass on my conscience. I was a sinner. I knew that without a doubt. But I was not alone. And the night was the accomplice of us all.

When darkness comes over your soul, it doesn't come in light shades; it descends with all the black of a moonless night.

There is something about a fire on a dark night, a fire shared with others, that pulls the gloom right out of you. We sat around the cheery little blaze with the branches popping as they burned with the flames dancing, and although we hadn't eaten that day, I could feel our spirits rise along with the smoke that drifted toward the stars.

It's so quiet you can hear the dark sliding down the sky.

I was a sinner. I knew that without a doubt. But I was not alone. And the night was the accomplice of us all.

Long after dark, the moon rose, full. All the stars around it vanished as if the moon were a bucket that had scooped them up, filling itself to overflowing with their silver light.

The affection of young ladies is of as rapid growth as Jack's beanstalk, and reaches up to the sky in a night.

I was born an insomniac and that's the way I'll die, wasting thousands of hours along the way longing for unconsciousness.

I was born an insomniac and that's the way I'll die, wasting thousands of hours along the way longing for unconsciousness, longing for a rubber mallet to crack me in the head, not so hard, not hard enough to do any damage, just a good whack to put me down for the night.

The band in heaven, they play my favorite songPlay it once againPlay it all night long

know that without night there is no day; without lies, no truth;without despair,no hope. Beware above all of hate, but call to its opposite too. For all things have an opposite and, if you choose it, with will and care, you may turn one thing into its reflection.

So quiet that house was in the night, so quiet all the other little homes around it were that held the elderly in them and the old alone or still in couples sleeping early, waking, lying awake and thinking about the past. So much past every night in the silence settling over those houses that all looked much the same on a hillside creeping up against the rock and gorse and tipping down to the river where it widened, widened and ended in the sea.

In the night, in the utter silence of the nights among those little houses where old people live, she felt him leave the bed and in the pitch-black reach his dressing gown and leave the room. She let him go. How it troubled her, all this. Not much to ask, peace of mind at nights and a bit of ordinary cheerfulness in the day, some conversation, something to laugh about and doing nobody any harm. And not all this. A slit of light came on under the bedroom door.

The only reason there's such a thing as a morning in the first place is to keep night and afternoon from bumping into each other. -Kheldar