Best 5862 quotes in «dark quotes» category

Goodness works in mysterious ways. Even in the deepest dark, you’ll find a light to shine your way through.

Good rises when evil falls.

Guard your mortal heart.

Had pretended to be Abbadon of the Dark, when always he had been working for the Light.

Hakikatleri örten bir perdedir karanlık. Onun saklı dünyasına tek tanıklık edense peşinden ayrılmayan gölgesidir.

Hang in. We’ll make it. We all have each other.

Gray. The overcast skies had the colour of deadened stones, and seemed closer than usually, as though they were phlegmatically observing my every movement with their apathetic emptily blue-less eyes; each tiny drop of hazy rain drifting around resembled transparent molten steel, the pavement looked like it was about to burst into disconsolate tears, even the air itself was gray, so ultimate and ubiquitous that colour was everywhere around me. Gray...

Hate plays in the dark, but love rests in the light.

Hate plays in the dark; love rests in light.

Have a look around, my pretty, we are surrounded by Death in all forms – just the two of us are still alive –

Have you ever tried wind dancing? - The Malwatch

(...) ha! what is hope? a butterfly in a box of demons, and nothing escapes the dark untainted, a mockery of politics and greed stamped with treason and dipped in myths and force-fed brainwashing going off after a time for the grand massacre of faith, humanity, and still we search, scorched feet for life but find only fake plastic trees satirical, ludicrous, and ironic

He begins to want. He begins to crave. He wants to possess. His mind finally begins to process, to think and plan...He gives her his darkest, most serious look. He's telling her 'get ready, here we go.

He belongs to a whorehouse, not in my heart

Goths do not hate the world. They just learned to accept the world that refuses to understand them.

Hardened scales protect against dangers, but they are also heavy, and weight you down. Don't plate your hide with more than you need to survive in life, or you will find it a struggle to go anywhere. - The Malwatch

Harden your heart.

Hatred is unavoidable until everyone recognizes that their ideal reality is not the same as anyone else's ideal reality. - The Malwatch

Hatchlings should roam far and wide, by whatever means of travel they prefer. - The Malwatch

Hearts aren't created hard. They grow that way when they're repeatedly used and abused. It's a survival mechanism. - The Malwatch

HEARTWORK Each day is born with a sunrise and ends in a sunset, the same way we open our eyes to see the light, and close them to hear the dark. You have no control over how your story begins or ends. But by now, you should know that all things have an ending. Every spark returns to darkness. Every sound returns to silence. And every flower returns to sleep with the earth. The journey of the sun and moon is predictable. But yours, is your ultimate ART.

Hearts aren't content just to beat a steady rhythm until they whither and die. Let them race in wonder. - The Malwatch

He didn’t like the idea of leaving unfinished business behind. He had wanted definite answers about the heart attacks to be able to turn the page on who or what caused so many of his brothers to die.

He gets away with it because he's strong.' 'This is the story of mankind.' 'I thought you were going to be a priest at one point.' 'Yes. But then I read the newspaper.

He had to get inside. It was essential that he know everything, the routes she took, her schedule, and the lay of the land. The silver moon glowed overhead, mocking him. Somewhere in the trees an owl hooted its laughter at his failure. Randy--from Spring Cleaning--Coming Summer 2012

He kissed me. He kissed me like a thousand promises were being exchanged through that one kiss.

He doesn't have a soul?" she shrieked, horrified. "That explains why he's such a dick," Tree muttered.

He kissed her, and the magic that had been building up steadily around them exploded, raining down in arcs of silver fire that made her half-remember a prophecy from her dreams. One by one, they all will die. Something had been set into motion.

Hell's got high waters ever since humans tried to free it over. - The Malwatch

He may take long walks in the raining dark almost aimlessly to a spot of soaked grass in a neighbor’s open field. He’s decided this is the place for you and him to meet again.

He placed his hands to his belt buckle and undid it. “Just be careful, Red. This isn’t a fairytale. No one will save you, if you decide to see how sharp the wolf’s teeth really are.

He peered into the night-dark windows of the afflicted girls, whispering names and stirring fits into their dreams until their own screams awakened them. The girls concocted fantastic stories of witches and curses and torture at the hands of specters. More accusers joined their ranks without his nurturing, puppets of their own envy. Such imagination, such dedication to the destruction of their own. And all in his name. It touched his dark soul.

He laughed then. It was the first time I’d ever heard his laugh, a lovely dark sound that rippled through the air. “Well, that part definitely isn’t true.

He preferred to give in the light,because when it was dark, he was afraid his giving would go unnoticed

Her exceptional beauty also helps her to keep her secrets. Most people tend to think the best of those who are blessed with beauty; we have difficulty imagining that physical perfection can conceal twisted emotions or a damaged mind.

Here’s another big symbol,” she says, still crouched and looking up at me. “These flowers will be rotten in a couple hours. Birds will crap on them. The smoke here will make them stink, and tomorrow a bulldozer will probably run over them, but for right now they are so beautiful.

Her life has seen little light. She is twelve years old but has a woman’s weathered poise. Her abyss-blue eyes have a piercing focus that some adults find unsettling. [...] She has fired a gun into a human head. She has watched a pile of bodies set alight. She has starved and thirsted, stolen food and given it away, and glimpsed the meaning of life by watching it end over and over.

Her screams spiraled up into the night air

Heritage was everything: it was a golden skeleton key, gleaming with power, able to get the wielder through any number of locked doors; it was the christening of the marriage bed with virgin blood on snow-white sheets; it was the benediction of a pristine pedigree, refined through ages of selective breeding and the occasional mercy culling. It was life, and death, and all that spanned between. It was his birthright.

He’s drowning, suffocating under the weight of my darkness and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.

He sat beside the window in the dark, with his eyes closed. Hearing to the sound of the rain. The whisky in his glass burnt his throat, while the smoke of his cigarette filled his lungs and the fire inside his heart consumed his soul slowly.

He smiled and captured my hand..... I attempted to pull my hand away. He tightened his grip just a little and kept my hand encased in his. A warmth spread through to me.

He sped down Melrose Avenue, skating from shade to shade to the deeper darkness along the north-facing shops. Papers fluttered and leaves trembled in his wake. Outside a dress boutique two girls turned, startled by the change in air he had caused. They glanced at each other and laughed. The dark pretty one whispered, "Someone just walked over our graves." That made them laugh again, but Stanton sensed more. He twirled back and savored their fear. He wanted to drop into his body and become solid in front of them but he didn't have time. Instead he whispered, "Death is riding on the wind." Their eyes shot open and he sucked in that terror.

He’s in a side room alone with her and it’s far too fucking hot.

He stopped and leaned against a pole and looked up at the deaf and swollen sky. It was a movement of dark shapes, a hurrying, a running. He closed his eyes. ("Hunger")

He stood on the ice, his teeth chattering in the cold, a cold that seemed to come not from the lake water or icy wind, but from a direct transmission from outer space.

He was a phoenix of blood, rising from the ashes of those who had fallen and suffered before him.

Here we are, at the place where I get to beg for it. Where I get to say ‘Please, for just one night, will you lay down next to me? We can leave our clothes on, we can stay all buttoned up?’ But we both know how it goes – I say I want you inside me and you hold my head underwater. I say I want you inside me and you split me open with a knife.

He was the monster that no one thought to look for in the light of day. It was a common mistake. People often believed they were safer in the light, thinking monsters only came out at night. But safety - like light - is a facade. Underneath, the whole world is drenched in darkness.

He was sort of beautiful. In his own dark, depressing way, but still. She was going to miss that stupid fucking beautiful face.