Best 8172 quotes in «night quotes» category

When the sun goes down, melting away his caresses into the sky which consonants with the ocean, lively colors are scattered through the deep pale depth during some short sensuous instants. Later, as by art of magic, light is consumed into the infinite horizon giving space to the poked voidness and its full-cristal-covered vastness. Then, to mystify the night, a marvelous and alluring sentinel rests next to us through the vivid night, just until the next prismatic fest arrives with its celebrating aperture.

When twilight sleeps holding the night In your arms you embrace me tight Runaway hours clenched by kisses More of your love my heart misses

When you are tired and want to sleep for the night. I will take you in my arms and lay you there on the bed. I will lie down next to you, hold you in my arms, and stroke your head. And then we will both fall asleep together and find ourselves in la la land.

When your dreams are clearer and stronger than your sleep, night becomes a mere extension of day

When your partner is regularly going out to bars and nightclubs and does not come home until after sunrise, it is likely that they are engaging in some form of infidelity.

Where all was burnt to ash before them no fires were to be had and the nights were long and dark and cold beyond anything they'd yet encountered. Cold to crack the stones. To take your life.

Where people are gone the night falls upward, black and unmanned.

White-crested waves crash on the shore. The masts sway violently, every which way. In the gray sky the gulls are circling like white flakes. Rain squalls blow past like gray slanting sails, and blue gaps open in the sky. The air brightens. A cold silvery evening. The moon is overhead, and down below, in the water; and all around it-a wide frame of old, hammered, scaly silver. Etched on the silver-silent black fishing boats, tiny black needles of masts, little black men casting invisible lines into the silver. And the only sounds are the occasional plashing of an oar, the creaking of an oarlock, the springlike leap and flip-flop of a fish. ("The North")

Why are we sneaking out in the night?” Jack repeated. “I already explained,” Sam snapped. “If you don’t listen—” Taylor jumped in to say, “Because otherwise Astrid would find some way to stop him.” She mimicked Astrid’s voice, injecting it with steel and a tense, condescending tone. “Sam. I am the smartest, hottest girl in the world. So do what I tell you. Good boy. Down, boy. Down!” Sam remained silent, walking steadily just a few feet ahead. Taylor continued, “Oh, Sam, if only you could be as smart plus as totally goody-goody as I am. If only you could realize that you will never be good enough to have me, me, wonderful me, Astrid the Blond Genius.” “Sam, can I shoot her now?” Dekka asked. “Or is it too soon?” “Wait until we’re over the ridge,” Sam said. “It’ll muffle the sound.” “Sorry, Dekka,” Taylor said. “I know you don’t like talking about boy-girl things.” “Taylor,” Sam warned. “Yes, Sam?” “You might want to think about how hard it would be to walk if someone were to turn off gravity under your feet every now and then.” “I wonder who would do that?” Dekka said. Suddenly Taylor fell flat on her face. “You tripped me!” Taylor said, more shocked than angry. “Me?” Dekka spread her hands in a completely unconvincing gesture of innocence. “Hey, I’m all the way over here.” “I’m just saying: you can see where that could make a long walk just a lot longer,” Sam said. “You guys are so not fun,” Taylor grumped. She bounced instantaneously to just behind Sam. She grabbed his butt, he yelled, “Hey!” and she bounced away innocently. “To answer your question, Jack,” Sam said, “we are sneaking out at night so that everyone doesn’t know we’re gone and why. They’ll figure it out soon enough, but Edilio will have to have more of his guys on the streets if I’m not there playing the big, bad wolf. More stress for everyone.” “Oh,” Jack said. “The big, bad wolf,” Taylor said. She laughed. “So, when you play that fantasy in your head is Astrid Little Red Riding Hood or one of the Three Little Pigs?” “Dekka,” Sam said. “Hah! Too slow!

Why is it that night falls, instead of rising, like the dawn? Yet if you look east, at sunset, you can see night rising, not falling; darkness lifting into the sky, up from the horizon...

Why didn't anyone question "It's been a hard days night" Who talks like that anyway?

Women can go mad with insomnia. The sleep-deprived roam houses that have lost their familiarity. With tea mugs in hand, we wander rooms, looking on shelves for something we will recognize: a book title, a photograph, the teak-carved bird -- a souvenir from what place? A memory almost rises when our eyes rest on a painting's grey sweep of cloud, or the curve of a wooden leg in a corner. Fingertips faintly recall the raised pattern on a chair cushion, but we wonder how these things have come to be here, in this stranger's home. Lost women drift in places where time has collapsed. We look into our thoughts and hearts for what has been forgotten, for what has gone missing. What did we once care about? Whom did we love? We are emptied. We are remote. Like night lilies, we open in the dark, breathe in the shadowy world. Our soliloquies are heard by no one.

With night's Dim veil and blue I will cover my eyes, I will bind close my eyes that are So weary.

Words could be quite enough for magic to occur, when the night was warm enough and the moon waxing.

Working the astronomy night shift required sitting and staring at many computer screens for up to eighteen hours per night for several nights.

Woodget glanced into the dim shadows behind the trees. "What you be hiding fer?" he called. "On such a night as this even the greatest may hide and not be ashamed," came the response.

Work hard in the day; as hard as you can even if no one is watching you! Work harder in the night; as harder as if everyone's eyes are on you.

Would you be my reason to wake up in the morning? Let's begin by you being the reason why I don't want to sleep.

You don't look very happy." Tally tried to smile. David had shared his biggest secret with her; she should tell him hers. But she wasn't brave enough to say the words. "It's been a long night. That's all." He smiled back. "Don't worry, it won't last forever.

you clutter my mind thoughts of you, thoughts of me with you thoughts that keep me from rest that ull me to sleep at night your words are like butter they're smooth and they're rich and they make the bitter bits better

You don’t need a sad soul to feel the beauty of a dead grave Just stay with the pale moon when darkness wants the night to be brave

You found me under the thousand stars, shining above us at the night. You found me and you wanted me to shine for you.

You get a peculiar outlook at night. You feel an oddity, and are quite content to be one.

You have to choose whether to go to a restless sleep or to stay awake and fight for a blissful night rest.

You have not lived until you have fled a city in a country where you do not speak the language in the middle of the night.

You kissed me that morning as if you’d never done it before and never would again and now I write another letter that I will never dare to send, collecting memories of loss like chains tight around my chest, and if you see a fire from the shore tonight it’s my chains going up in flames.

You'll become that devil overnight, if you want to become that celebrity overnight.

You know you love him when you can't sleep at night and get up early to talk to him the next morning.

You live through each memory you have hidden inside me. Through the places, we had been to and through the songs, which only we have sung and heard. Every night, I lie down and look at the sky gazing the universe in its eye. Watching the breeze and the stars carry the pieces of us and deliver it to the infinity and every time I wonder if you are doing the same somewhere.

You may think you see plenty of stars, friend reader, but you are wrong. Night is both blacker and more brilliant than you can imagine, and the sky a glory that puts to shame the most splendid jewels at Renwick's.

You know those nights where the day has unfolded in such a way that now, in the night, you can feel all the gaps in your body and you can see all the reasons you’re not who you wish you were - you know those nights where the only sound is of you drinking and the people outside who have each other to drink with - those nights when you’re unable to think or be or do because of the paralyzing loneliness - it feels like a hundred of those nights - stitched together and squared - and they come to me in a blush.

You never get tired of looking at the stars

Your skin is a thousand stars being born at once. I want to drown in your light. Pour. Pour the light of your body on me. Your hair is the night’s skirt whose folds hide a thousand moons. I want to drown in your night. Pour. Pour the night of your body on me. Your eyes have orphaned me from certainty: Oh, the freedom of knowing nothing! I only understand this moment that contains all of eternity. This moment that you are here and I am here and we make a world. This moment is all we need to know. You and I were always made for this moment. Let life have us. And pour. Pour the life of your body on me.

You speak in night, not because it’s night, but because it’s dark enough in theory that no one will see you.

Your tenderness has pervaded into the very pore of my being. Last night I inhaled the fragrance of the moon!

You slip in night because darkness is a type of coldness. A temperature where you feel somewhat safe. By feeling safe, you feel like you. You blend in with the night causing your shades to become temporary enough to expose them.

1,000 cows in the U.S. are alive at night and dead in the morning. These cows on the ground are ground into feed, making their fellows not only carnivores but cannibals. Europe after Mad Cows' Disease has banned this practice. The U.S has not yet.

1lb beefstak, with 1pt bitter beer every 6 hours. 1 ten-mile walk every morning. 1 bed at 11 sharp every night. And don't stuff your head with things you don't understand.

2.2 billion worth of military equipment had been stripped from U.S. Forces in West Germany and America and shipped to Israel in an unprecedented day and night airlift.

You will never really get, how really everything works in my world. How the colour of the sky changes every now and then, and how deep the sea gets in there. How volcanoes and rivers flow together, and how demons and angels fall in love in there. How stormy a night can get and how bright a day can be. How ruined the home is, but how vibrant the feelings are in there.

A 45-year old looks a lot like a 25-year old who's been out all night. And feels just as good about having survived the experience.

25 years later, you know, I haven't really put too much emphasis on any kind of individual goal, other than trying to win any particular night, trying to find a way to do that.

A beaver is about like the ninjas the suckers only work at night and they're hard to find.

A black-crowned night heron stood on an apron of wet sand, looking across the channel. The feather plume at the back of his head lifted in a faint breeze. Out there the channel churned its cyclonic eddies counterclockwise. Schools of anchovies, halibut, and sea bass came and went: silver flashes, small storms that well up from the inside of the sea but are short-lived, like lightning.

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.

(about Kindles) I have one and I use it most nights. I always imagine the books staring and whispering, Traitor!

About a year after I moved to Los Angeles, I decided I wanted to be a joke writer for a late night talk show. So I met with a late night joke writer and he told me that I should start by doing stand-up comedy, because that would really hone my sense of humor and joke writing ability. Eventually I took a stand-up class and a few months later I had a seven-minute act.

[About her boyfriend Barrie] We kick each others asses. We give each other input every night.

A breeze passes in the night. When did it spring up? Whence does it come? Whither is it going? No man knows.

Abruptly, she knew that after this night she was never going to be the same again. Nothing was ever going to be the same. Oh, yes, the man could define himself as the dawning of an epoch if he wanted to. There was, quite simply, before Adam and after Adam.