Best 218 quotes in «midnight quotes» category

I force myself to get up and lock my eyes on the painting, my birthday gift. It’s the essence of everything I want to remember about us. I pick it up and imagine the stars shimmering over us and the brisk air on our skin. The way the cold dissipated when we touched and nothing else mattered, how perfect it was.

I felt like I was riding into infinity, and soon I forgot I existed as the sky surrounded us in a blanket of stars, constellations the texture of slushies, swirling blue and violet and gold. I was swallowed b the universe, riding on a white horse in a midnight dream...

Imagine if you were performing at your full potential, the lives you would change - including yours. Just imagine...

I'm just an insomniac struggling for a night where I don't dream of you anymore.

It waited for her. Standing resolute in the moonlight, it had stood for a hundred years. Yet it waited just for her. Shadows passed across the moon, a cool breeze ruffled the leaves around it. Yet still it waited for her. Ancient tombs glowed in shimmery moonlight, row upon row of cold silent witnesses.

I'm saddened by the loss of Black Diamonds that we bury by the thousands every year never knowing the brilliance they possess. I call you my brother and we embrace with such sincerity while our mother's tears saturate the grounds where our diamonds lay at rest. My question to you, is this innate or hate? We are greater than the current narrative. We must allow the diamonds to shine. May they shine from above.

In between waking up from bed in the morning and going back in the evening, let something happen. God will bless that “something” for you.

In this life you will have some trials and tribulations. You cannot allow what happens to you to dictate who and what you become. Make a decision to do better and be better.

I suddenly felt the way Cinderella might have felt if she hadn’t had that convenient midnight curfew: my feet were hurting, my hair was slipping free from its pins, and my makeup was getting all smudged from sweat. I was unbelievably tired, undeniably depressed, and I just wanted charming.

It is at midnight, not midday, that stars shine the brightest.

It was late now; so late that it could once again be called early—that surreal, enchanted, twilight hour between the end of a party and the unfurling of a new day. The hour when reality grows dim and hazy at the edges, when nearly anything seems possible.

I was never afraid of the dark and I spent my youth walking through empty playgrounds at midnight, worried mothers telling girls to be careful and ”the world is an ugly place and not everyone wants you well”. But I was not afraid and I wished for adrenaline to make my veins pulsate in that way that puts them more on the outside of my skin than inside. After the first night with you I never walked alone at night again because suddenly I had something to lose. Something to save.

I was sitting here staring at the trees in my parents yard and wondering - season after season the trees continue to grow no matter what the weather. I guess they are just grounded and rooted and don't concern themselves with the seasons. When are we going to truly get rooted and grounded so that we continue to grow regardless?

Looking toward the future. It's as bright as you make it.

Love, be mystical as the flickering blue flame of night as the fully-awoken moon beneath cobwebs of passing clouds amidst chanting high-tides fuzzy, as my blanket big enough to illuminate a hundred thousand billion galaxies and just small enough to fit into my embrace.

I want to be intoxicated by the darkened ether of midnight, running through my fingers as sparkling stardust. I crave the taste of the ocean's salty tears, as her temperamental tides crash and break against the rocks. I yearn for the sweet scent of sun on my skin and the earthy musk of dirt giving way under my bare feet. I want to lay naked in golden fields, as i gaze up at an endless sky, dreaming my dreams, as Mother Nature's love washes over me like spiritual sunshine.

Midnight" The hours glide Like drops of water on a window pane Midnight silence Fear unrolls in the air And the wind hides at the bottom of the well OH It's a leaf We think the earth is going to end Time stirs in the shadow Everyone is asleep A SIGH Inside the house someone has just died

Midnight! the outpost of advancing day! The frontier town and citadel of night! The watershed of Time, from which the streams Of Yesterday and To-morrow take their way, One to the land of promise and of light, One to the land of darkness and of dreams!

MIDNIGHT SONG OF WU In Chang'an city is the disk of the moon, The sound of pounding clothes in ten thousand households. The autumn wind is blowing without cease, All the time I think of Yuguan pass. When will we pacify the pillaging Hu, So my husband can end his long journey?

Moon in the sky, stars out, the wide-open expanse of nothing: it made him feel free and alive as the daytime never did.

MOTHER TIME: Life goes by so very fast, my dears, and taking the time to reflect, even once a year, slows things down. We zoom past so many seconds, minutes, hours, killing them with the frantic way we live that it's important we take at least this one collective sigh and stop, take stock, and acknowledge our place in time before diving back into the melee. Midnight on New Year's Eve is a unique kind of magic where, just for a moment, the past and the future exist at once in the present. Whether we're aware of it or not, as we countdown together to it, we're sharing the burden of our history and committing to the promise of tomorrow.

I want to hear his laugh. I want to see him smile. I want to watch him look at the stars and to see the stars in his eyes.

Maybe life is all about twirling under one of those midnight skies, cutting a swathe through the breeze and gently closing your eyes.

Midnight's the only time where you can be both in the past, present, and future.

MURRY: Why do we even celebrate the New Year? It's just this arbitrary quirk of how we measure time in years, right? Midnight tonight is the very same transition from day to day that we do every 24 hours. But this thing in my hands, it feels real in a way the numbered calendar box never does. Why? What makes midnight tonight any different?

No one can ever bring the morning back at midnight

Price and Cost. Sometimes we pay more. Sometimes we pay less. You've got to determine what you are willing to pay for success.

Now the evening's at its noon, its meridian. The outgoing tide has simmered down, and there's a lull-like the calm in the eye of a hurricane - before the reverse tide starts to set in. The last acts of the three-act plays are now on, and the after-theater eating places are beginning to fill up with early comers; Danny's and Lindy's - yes, and Horn & Hardart too. Everybody has got where they wanted to go - and that was out somewhere. Now everybody will want to get back where they came from - and that's home somewhere. Or as the coffee-grinder radio, always on the beam, put it at about this point: 'New York, New York, it's a helluva town, The Bronx is up, the Battery's down, And the people ride around in a hole in the ground. Now the incoming tide rolls in; the hours abruptly switch back to single digits again, and it's a little like the time you put your watch back on entering a different time zone. Now the buses knock off and the subway expresses turn into locals and the locals space themselves far apart; and as Johnny Carson's face hits millions of screens all at one and the same time, the incoming tide reaches its crest and pounds against the shore. There's a sudden splurge, a slew of taxis arriving at the hotel entrance one by one as regularly as though they were on a conveyor belt, emptying out and then going away again. Then this too dies down, and a deep still sets in. It's an around-the-clock town, but this is the stretch; from now until the garbage-grinding trucks come along and tear the dawn to shreds, it gets as quiet as it's ever going to get. This is the deep of the night, the dregs, the sediment at the bottom of the coffee cup. The blue hours; when guys' nerves get tauter and women's fears get greater. Now guys and girls make love, or kill each other or sometimes both. And as the windows on the 'Late Show' title silhouette light up one by one, the real ones all around go dark. And from now on the silence is broken only by the occasional forlorn hoot of a bogged-down drunk or the gutted-cat squeal of a too sharply swerved axle coming around a turn. Or as Billy Daniels sang it in Golden Boy: While the city sleeps, And the streets are clear, There's a life that's happening here. ("New York Blues")

Places I love come back to me like music, Hush me and heal me when I am very tired; I see the oak woods at Saxton's flaming In a flare of crimson by the frost newly fired; And I am thirsty for the spring in the valley As for a kiss ungiven and long desired. I know a bright world of snowy hills at Boonton, A blue and white dazzling light on everything one sees, The ice-covered branches of the hemlocks sparkle Bending low and tinkling in the sharp thin breeze, And iridescent crystals fall and crackle on the snow-crust With the winer sun drawing cold blue shadows from the trees. Violet now, in veil on veil of evening, The hills across from Cromwell grow dreamy and far; A wood-thrush is singing soft as a viol In the heart of the hollow where the dark pools are; The primrose has opened her pale yellow flowers And heaven is lighting star after star. Places I love come back to me like music– Mid-ocean, midnight, the eaves buzz drowsily; In the ship's deep churning the eerie phosphorescence Is like the souls of people who were drowned at sea, And I can hear a man's voice, speaking, hushed , insistent, At midnight, in mid-ocean, hour on hour to me.

Put in the work. Reap the rewards

Se había asegurado a sí misma que había una diferencia entre querer algo y necesitarlo...

Sometimes we miss our blessings in life because they do not arrive the way we think they should. Because our minds are so shallow, so limited, we think our blessings have to come a certain way and sometimes we miss them walking up and down the street. Open your mind: get your blessing.

The dream is free - to live it requires HUSTLE.

The Good, the Bad and the Ugly: I was watching an old western and started thinking the Good, the Bad and the Ugly are present in all of us. What determines which one dominates is the one that is fed. Which one are you feeding?

My thoughts produce emotions which produces action; thus, the action is the outcome of the thought. Show me a man's actions and I can tell you of his thoughts. What are your thoughts?

She would have given up every Gathering from now until she went to join StarClan, if only she could have been sure that her sister was safe.

TA truly successful leader is a reluctant leader. Not one whose every word is greeted with frenzied cheering either - after all what happens to the mind of such a leader, after such scenes are repeated again and again? A growing certainty, a belief in one's own infallibility, and onward goes the march into disaster. No, Bugg I won't have anyone kissing my feet ــــ, ' I'm relieved to hear that master, since those feet have not known soap in a long time'.

The nature of your outcome or problem in large part depends upon you. Results are what you get when you follow the rules. Consequences are the results of negative choices. Your thoughts become your actions. Your thoughts should be focused on what you desire.

The night, cold and silent, Held a warmth and sound That echoed through my thoughts. It wasn’t deafening as it crashed All around, only mildly amusing. The shadows devoured the light Which gracefully enhanced Their deep rich darkness. The world circled and danced, Leapt and ran, swimming Throughout the witching hour.

The pressures of life and influence of society have caused many to become something and someone they are not. Remove the layers. Dig through the dust and debris. Find the genuine jewel - YOU.

The problem is people want help, but when help arrives you want to tell the help how to help you. Learn to RECEIVE help.

The man’s words were as deep and dark as midnight

There are different kinds of darkness, and Joe Solomon knew them all. From the black that lives behind blindfolds to the deep shadows of prison cells built underground. He’d seen everything. But he never could get used to how the darkness of midnight always feels different from the darkness of dawn. One marks the end and the other the beginning, but as he sat beside the perfectly still water and watched the sky begin to brighten, he honestly didn’t know which one was coming.

There are problems and conditions of this world that man nor woman can solve; it requires His grace and mercy.

There seemed to be handfuls of stars tossed right above the rooftops in Haddan, keeping the town still alight at midnight.

The more one knows, the sooner one grows old,” Midnight returned cheerfully.

These are NOT times for dramatization and talking, but meditation and praying.

These were always the weirdest trips for me, when it was midnight or even later, and we pulled up to a dark house, trying to be quiet. Like a robbery in reverse, creeping around to leave something rather than take it.

This storm we are in concerns me greatly. Even in the midst of the storm I know the Son shines from behind the clouds and will eventually break through completely. There is hope. Let's impact this change together.

There are places and spaces you will never see or know, unless you move NOW!!