Quotes About Night

The host is rushing 'twixt day and night, And where is there hope or deed as fair? Caoilte tossing his burning hair, And Niamh calling Away, come away.

From man's blood-sodden heart are sprung Those branches of the night and day Where the gaudy moon is hung. What's the meaning of all song? "Let all things pass away.

Never leave the door open at this hour, or evil may come to you.

I can remember meeting of a Sunday night Charles Whibley, Kenneth Grahame, author of 'The Golden Age,' Barry Pain, now a well known novelist, R. A. M. Stevenson, art critic and a famous talker, George Wyndham, later on a cabinet minister and Irish chief secretary, and Oscar Wilde, who was some eight years or ten older than the rest.

The other was out on the road late at night waiting for her young man, when something came flapping and rolling along the road up to her feet. It had the likeness of a newspaper, and presently it flapped up into her face, and she knew by the size of it that it was the Irish Times. All of a sudden it changed into a young man, who asked her to go walking with him. She would

Whether to play, or to ride Those winds that clamour of approaching night.

For he would be thinking of love Till the stars had run away And the shadows eaten the moon.

Philadelphia, wonderful town, spent a week there one night

Into flowers, into women, I have awakened. Too weak to think of strength, I have thought all day, Or dozed among standing friends. I lie in night, now, A small mound under linen like the drifted snow. from "The Operation

Follow, poet, follow right To the bottom of the night, With your unconstraining voice Still persuade us to rejoice; With the farming of a verse Make a vineyard of the curse, Sing of human unsuccess In a rapture of distress; In the deserts of the heart Let the healing fountain start, In the prison of his days Teach the free man how to praise.

For the others, like me, there is only the flash Of negative knowledge, the night when, drunk, one Staggers to the bathroom and stares in the glass To meet one's madness

The stars are not wanted now, put out every one Pack up the moon & dismantle the sun.

Defenceless under the night Our world in stupor lies; Yet, dotted everywhere, Ironic points of light Flash out wherever the Just Exchange their messages: May I, composed like them Of Eros and of dust, Beleaguered by the same Negation and despair, Show an affirming flame.

One of the best reasons I have for knowing That Fascism is bogus is that it is too much like the kinds of Utopias artists plan over cafe tables very late at night.

this is the white wind that you cannot believe here it is and the owl sails out to see whose turn it is tonight to be changed

here is the known hand again knowing remembering at night after the doubting and the news of age

Looking East at Night" Death White hand The moths fly at in the darkness I took you for the moon rising Whose light then do you reflect As though it came out of the roots of things This harvest pallor in which I have no shadow but myself

Utterance" Sitting over words Very late I have heard a kind of whispered sighing Not far Like a night wind in pines or like the sea in the dark The echo of everything that has ever Been spoken Still spinning its one syllable Between the earth and silence

When I behold, upon the night's starr'd face, Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance, And think that I may never live to trace Their shadows, with the magic hand of chance.

The moon is quite a show off given the chance. The stars make a sound when they shine so bright. Water so blue and so black.

I never believed in Santa Claus because I knew no white dude would come into my neighborhood after dark.

O little town of Bethlehem, how still we see thee lie! Above thy deep and dreamless sleep the silent stars go by.

A good many things go around in the dark besides Santa Claus.

0 little town of Bethlehem How still we see thee lie! Above thy deep and dreamless sleep The silent stars go by.