Best 8172 quotes in «night quotes» category

Two-thirty in the morning was kind of a bitch as times went. It fell into the in-between, nowhere land. Too late to get a really good night's sleep, but much too early to start the day.

Twilight ... Say, who you are !! The dusk before the night Or the dawn before the light (Page 73)

Twilight was laying claim to the cité, and the sky was a deepening shade of lavender, spangled with stars and fleecy clouds the colour of plums.

Ukienda katika kituo cha watoto yatima halafu watoto wakakulilia shida zao na ukaondoka bila kuwasaidia chochote, hutalala vizuri usiku.

Ukikosana na mwanamke usimpige mchana. Mpige usiku. Ukimpiga mchana watu watasema umemwonea. Ukimpiga usiku watu watasema huenda alikuwa na makosa. Wanawake hawatakiwi kupigwa.

Under a night’s sky Filled with a hundred billion stars Is it so crazy to believe Our paths were destined to cross?

Under her thick pancake makeup, her skin had been pockmarked, but he would stare at her adoringly from his cot at night and imagine her scars were constellations, a secret map to a far-off, happy place.

Un feu, une nuit d'encre, les escarbilles mêlées aux étoiles: décor propice aux confidences. N'a-t-on jamais remarqué que, devant les flammes, les secrets se révèlent, et surgissent les souvenirs?

Uni on varannut heidät itselleen koko yöksi

Up here it seems we have only the stars, but even they seem small in the midst of that terrifying night sky...I suppose even monsters can be afraid of the dark.

Upon the honey’d middle of the night,

Usually, when I dream of flying I am simply flapping my arms and somehow I lift off and glide through the sky. Last night was different. I missed you so much and my yearning was so powerful that I sprouted wings like a phoenix and soared to reach you. And now I finally understand: if you see lovers on a roof, do not worry. Surely, love has metamorphosed them.

Very high altitude extreme night shift work is a class 2A carcinogen that may result in lifelong disabling sleep disorders, high cholesterol, radiation sickness and heart, lung and brain damage.

Viktor looked at the older man’s nightshirt, robe, and nightcap. His lips quirked into a smile. “The hour is late, and the household sleeps. How is it that you are still awake?” “I knew you would be knocking on the door sooner or later.” Pickles looked down his long nose at him. “You have passed the previous six nights with Her Ladyship.” “You are observant, my good man.” “No, Your Highness, I am the one who locks the door at night.” Pickles reached into his robe’s pocket and produced a key. He passed it to the prince, saying, “After tonight, let yourself into the house.” Viktor grinned at the majordomo and lifted the key out of his hand. “Your trust honors me.” “You are unlikely to abscond with the silver,” Pickles drawled.

Wakiwa na suti nzito za kijani na madoa meusi (‘Ghillie Suits’) kwa ajili ya kupigania porini; Vijana wa Tume walikuwa na kofia za chuma, miwani ya kuonea usiku (iliyokuwa na uwezo wa kubinuka chini na juu), redio na mitambo ya mawasiliano migongoni mwao juu ya vizibao vya kuzuia risasi, vitibegi vya msalaba mwekundu (‘Blowout Kits’ – katika mapaja ya miguu yao ya kulia, ndani yake kukiwa na pisto na madawa ya huduma ya kwanza), vitibegi vya kujiokolea (‘Evasion Kits’ – katika mapaja ya miguu yao ya kushoto, ndani yake kukiwa na visu na pesa na ramani ya Meksiko) na bunduki za masafa marefu. Kadhalika, Vijana wa Tume waliamua kuchukua Punisher – waliyoafikiana baadaye kuwa ilikuwa nzuri kuliko RPG-7, ‘Rocket Propelling Gun’, ambayo Mogens alipendekeza waitumie kubomolea Kiwanda cha Dongyang Pharmaceuticals; kwa sababu hakutaka kuleta madhara kwa watu waliokuwa hawana hatia.

Walking through a deserted city in the hours before dawn is sobering way beyond the undoing of the effects of alcohol. Every thing is familiar, and everything is strange. It's as if you are the only survivor of some mysterious calamity which has emptied the place of its population, and yet you know that behind the shuttered and curtained windows people lie sleeping in their tens of thousands, and all their joys and disasters lie sleeping too. It makes you think of your own life, usually suspended at that hour, and how you are passing through it as if in a dream. Reality seems very unreal.

Walk with this tomorrow night. If nothing happens, then don’t come back. Forget about us, this place, but if you feel the Nightwalker in you awaken, then return to where you belong. Return to me, and the streets will run red with blood.

Walk with me now into this very bright night, and revere with me in silence what must be God-given and what is surely God-taken.

War is like night, she said. It covers everything.

Watching the sun set is like watching a beautiful kid die for a good cause.

we have forgotten what night tastes like, salted by full moon silver rupturing the dark. we have forgotten how the skin sings when the lunar fervor unfurls across its follicles.

We are simple creatures seeking love who triumph in the dark and wilt against the light.

We can’t tell if ever night falls asleep Our slumber veils many secrets: deep The moonlit visage of this city life Shines through the blade from a glistening knife From the poem "City Night

We need to know that a dark night is always followed by a nice morning

We must take sides. Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim. Silent encourages the tormentor, never the tormented.

What did I fear, and why? — I, to whom the night had been a more familiar face than that of man — I, in whom that element of hereditary superstition from which none of us is altogether free had given to solitude and darkness and silence only a more alluring interest and charm!

We’re on the wrong side of night,” Red murmurs inside the mirror, and she’s right.

We should live, my Lesbia, and love And value all the talk of stricter Old men at a single penny. Suns can set and rise again; For us, once our brief light has set, There's one unending night for sleeping. Give me a thousand kisses, then a hundred, Then another thousand, then a second hundred, Then still another thousand, then a hundred; Then, when we've made many thousands, We'll muddle them so as not to know Or lest some villain overlook us Knowing the total of our kisses. (Translated by Guy Lee)

We take a last look out of the window at the night, and I send a silent wish to everyone out there for this kind of warmth.

We will join our palms together, fingers intertwined in each other, and look at the stars in the night sky!

What a night it was! The jagged masses of heavy dark cloud were rolling at intervals from horizon to horizon, and thin white wreaths covered the stars. Through all the rush of the cloud river the moon swam, breasting the waves and disappearing again in the darkness. I walked up and down, drinking in the beauty of the quiet earth and the changing sky. The night was absolutely silent. Nothing seemed to be abroad. There was no scurrying of rabbits, or twitter of the half-asleep birds. And though the clouds went sailing across the sky, the wind that drove them never came low enough to rustle the dead leaves in the woodland paths. Across the meadows I could see the church tower standing out black and grey against the sky. ("Man Size In Marble")

What a fucking gorgeous night!

Whatever you value, it becomes your sun! If you value a calm night, your own sun will rise with the sunset on the horizon!

We’re under the same starry sky,” I say. “We always are.” “Not together,” I argue. “I think we’ve always been together, even when we were apart,” he says, slipping his hand around mine. “I know it’s a cliché, but sometimes I would look up at the stars and wonder if you were ever looking at them at the same time,” I admit. “When I looked up at the stars, I saw us. You were the stars, and I was the dark sky behind you.

We sat in the car & the night dropped down until the only sounds were the crickets & the dance of our voices & for a moment the world became small enough to roll back & forth between us.

What darkness swirls inside your head? You are the Pinot Noir beside my bed.

When darkness falls, beauty is lit from within.

...what will happen to us this night will resemble a flame consuming the icy desert, a shower of stars reflected in a piece of a mirror that in the darkness suddenly fell out of its frame to warn its owner about the proximity of death. It'll resemble the shepherd's pipe and the music that has not been written yet.

When darkness peeps, Daunting thoughts creeps, Loneliness strangles, 'Him' I seek, My vision goes bleak, My voice squeaks, The thoughts of my dream, A love, a hug, a kiss, a whisper, a song, a compliment, I am entangled. Slowly opening the knots... Saying it will be just fine. I close by eyes. Next darkness to sing the same rhyme.

What your mind sees when you close your eyes marks the entrance to an endless universe: your imagination.

When daylight is here i dream of the night, The stars of a country sky that shine so bright. A night sky without clouds, for the moon to hide under, Revealing every twinkle and every beam, of the Milky Way's wonder. I grow sad in the morning, And i pay the day no mind. Every time i see the light coming, I know the sunset's not far behind.

When everyone was busy playing their cards, guessing others hands and counting chips, we took a deck and a bottle and a corner table. At the end of that dreamy night, rattles stopped, bottles emptied, everyone gone. But there on our table was this beautiful house erected of cards, stories, hopes and secrets. Something we built quite unknowingly. She looked at me with starry eyes and whispered – “Can we keep it?” The curious inn keeper, from a distance answered – “No”. She made a face and looked at me and I said – “We shall come back tomorrow and make a new one everyday”. And we never did.

When he appeared before the lord, his lordship was smitten immediately with the boy's unadorned beauty, like a first glimpse of the moon rising above a distant mountain. The boy's hair gleamed like the feathers of a raven perched silently on a tree, and his eyes were lovely as lotus flowers. One by one his other qualities became apparent, from his nightingale voice to his gentle disposition, as obedient and true as a plum blossom.

When I am gone, break the night. Set my remains on fire, so I can still be your light. For I am forever indebted to you. O people of the world, O love, I am eternally yours.

When I did finally speak, I surprised myself by saying exactly what was on my mind.
“You must hate me.” She stared a long time at me. I did,” she said slowly, “But it’s mostly myself I hate.” Don’t,” I said. And why the hell shouldn’t I hate myself? Everybody else hates me.

when I finally begin to drift into sleep your memory is the...first and the moonlight the last, to kiss my face.

When I finally lie down, I find sleep elusive. The same thoughts that trouble me during the day are only compounded by the stillness of night.

When he woke in the woods in the dark and the cold of the night he'd reach out to touch the child sleeping beside him. Nights dark beyond darkness and the days more gray each one than what had gone before. Like the onset of some cold glaucoma dimming away the world.

When it happens and it hits hard, we decide certain things, and realize there's truth in all those dark, lonely days" He had an instantaneous look about him, a glimmer and a glint over those eyes, he knew how the world worked, and took pleasure in its wickedness. He would give a dime or two to those sitting on the street, he would tell them things like: "It won't get any better," and "Might as well use this to buy your next fix," and finally "It's better to die high than to live sober," His suit was pressed nicely, with care and respect, like the kind a corpse wears, he'd say that was his way of honoring the dead, of always being ready for the oncoming train, I liked him, he never wore a fake smile and he was always ready to tell a story about how and when "We all wake up alone," he said once, "Oftentimes even when sleeping next to someone, we wake up before them and they are still asleep and suddenly we are awake, and alone." I didn't see him for a few days, a few days later it felt like it'd been weeks, those weeks drifted apart from one another, like leaves on a pond's surface, and became like months. And then I saw him and I asked him where he'd been, he said, "I woke up alone one day, just like any other, and I decided I didn't like it anymore.

When I was researching the book Toxic Electricity, I would see biological reactions for up to a week afterwards. They are typically strong in the first day or two after the electromagnetic field (EMF) exposures and tail off as the week goes on. I would feel fine during the EMF exposures and start seeing weird health effects usually during sleep that night. Extended time around high voltage power lines & power poles were the worst for provoking reactions, followed by wifi and transmitting utility meters.