Quotes About Night

A black star appears, a point of darkness in the night sky's clarity. Point of darkness and gateway to repose. Reach out, pierce the fine fabric of the sheltering sky, take repose.

Someone once had said to her that the sky hides the night behind it, shelters the person beneath from the horror that lies above. Unblinking, she fixed the solid emptiness, and the anguish began to move in her. At any moment the rip can occur, the edges fly back, and the giant maw will be revealed.

the sky here's very strange. I often have the sensation when I look at it that it's a solid thing up there, protecting us from what's behind . . . [from] nothing, I suppose. Just darkness. Absolute night.

The indigo sky is strewn with stars, which cluster in countless thousands close over our heads. The rising moon is a thin crescent disc of silver light. On our left the evening fireflies are making the compound grove radiant, and above them the plumed heads of tall palms stand out in black silhouette against the sky. My adventure in self-metamorphosis is over …

Your hair waves once more when I weep. With the blue of your eyes you lay the table of love: a bed between summer and autumn. We drink what somebody brewed, neither I nor you nor a third: we lap up some empty and last thing. We watch ourselves in the deep sea's mirrors and faster pass food to the other: the night is the night, it begins with the morning, beside you it lays me down. ("The Years From You To Me")

EINMAL, da hörte ich ihn da wusch er de Welt, ungesehn, nactlang, wirklich. Eins und Unendlich, Vernichtet, Ichten. Licht war. Rettung.

Schwarze Milch der Frühe wir trinken dich nachts wir trinken dich mittags und morgens wir trinken dich abends wir trinken und trinken

BEFORE YOUR LATE FACE, a loner wandering between nights that change me too, something came to stand, which was with us once already, un- touched by thoughts.

For safety's sake, I try not to go to the ATM at night. I also try not to go with my four-year-old who screams, "We've got money! We've got money!"

He's like fire and ice and rage. He's like the night, and the storm in the heart of the sun. He's ancient and forever. He burns at the center of time and he can see the turn of the universe. And... he's wonderful. - Tim Latimer

What a city, what a night, what a crowd, what a bomb, what a mistake, what a wanker you have for a President.

Yes, it is true: that night the angels began a song that will never ever end. The Savior who rescued your heart now claims your song. Have you joined the choir?

It was night now, bright with moon fragment and stars and northern glow.

Perplexed and distressed, he fled the palace under the cover of night, leaving behind his wife and child

Never get married in the morning, because you never know who you'll meet that night.

The most terrifying thing I can think of is being alone - and I mean utterly alone, like no one else in the world alone - at night. That's the nucleus of the first story in my collection and it's also where the title came from for the book.

There is a way of looking at things when you are alone in the woods at night. You see more clearly the things at the corner of the eye, and hear all the little crackling noises, the saw of your own breath, even the thumping of your heart. All so clear. It is as though on stepping out of the city an older part of the brain starts to work again. The part that remembers flint and bone and ice.

Dawn An angel, robed in spotless white, Bent down and kissed the sleeping Night. Night woke to blush; the sprite was gone. Men saw the blush and called it Dawn.

Forty-eight, okay? I don't put my teeth in a jar and I still drive at night.

To seek the breast of darkness and be suckled by the night.

Come, speak low. The dark is not so dark.

They do not seem to believe in their good fortune, And their song mingles with the moonlight.

Night. Rain. A livid sky pierces the lacework Of spires and towers, the silhouette of a Gothic Town dim in the gray distance.

Everyone dreams, but not all equally. Those who dream at night in the misty recesses of their mind, often wake to find that it was unfulfilled passion: but day dreamers are dangerous folk, for they may open their eyes, to make dreams possible.