Best 135 quotes in «moonlight quotes» category

Midnight sail and moonlight. I remember sunset, and gentle breeze. Leaving the city lights behind, and gazing at the moon. Mountains of clouds. Waves slapping our boat. It was easy to forget that love has no direction, or need for compass. Let it guide you to its destination. ~ Fidelis O Mkparu, 2016

Moon is a superstar to a neon light Both are in doubt of their lifeless plight One envies the sun, the other one’s scared But to face the dark they’re always prepared

Moon is the light from a lantern in heaven

moonlight disappears down the hills mountains vanish into fog and i vanish into poetry.

Moonlight does things to a street scene that no other natural or man-made phenomenon can effect. People walk slower, their smiles lingering on contended faces. Horses that usually move along fast enough to stir up the dust off the street plod lazily in the clear, cool night. And in dark corners where people forget to look, the goons come out.

...Moonlight possesses no alchemy to transmute good motives to base, but it does excite love magic...

Negativity may misguide a person to see daylight as moonlight; and then he goes to sleep instead of rising up to work. No every irresponsible act is caused by laziness; negative attitudes take a bigger share!

Night is my time...am not a vampire but i am a Night Rider....!

Once a month, ripe with psychic energy, the moon grows to Her zenith. Blazing full with the sun's rays through the night sky, it is with great compassion and love for her children that she luminesces.

...once I saw you in moonlight and I can tell you - the silvery dust of the stars doesn't shimmer like you...

Only the moon's smile can cure the unseen scars of darkness

On wings of moonlight Beneath the stars Breathing time I shall find Your eyes (fragment from "Beatitude", chapter Hope)

Moonlight signifies a time when there is hope in darkness, but you have to focus on that hope.

Perhaps everything can be solved by a walk in moonlight.

Overhead the sliver of a moon barely illuminated anything and shadows slunk on every corner.

¿Qué dice el río? Historias que se tejen en la danza a la luz de la luna de un amor delicado de la inclinada palmera de la llama de la lámpara que alimenta la oscuridad. ماذا يقول النهرُ؟ أقصوصةٌ يَنْسجُها من رَقْص ضوءِ القَمرْ يَنْسجُها من غَزَلِ ناعم يُداعب النَخْلُ به المنحدَرْ من نور مصباح يُغدِّي الدجى De què parla el riu? D'històries que es teixen en la dansa a la llum de la lluna d'un amor delicat de la inclinada palmera de la flama que alimenta la foscor.

She doesn't know where she is going. She doesn't know when the next demons will appear. But she will keep on walking. She will follow the moon.

Reflection is a good reminder of the truth! You may turn your eyes away from the truths, but the reflections will remind them to you! And anything which describes a truth well is a reflection of that truth! Turn your eyes away from the Moon, then the lake will remind the Moon to you, the shadows of the wolves howling against the Moon will remind the truth to you, even in the eyes of a frog, you shall see the Moon! Thus, if you turn your face away from the truth, it will never work! Because the reminders of truth are everywhere and they are as strong as the truth itself!

Rejoice with glitters of ashes tonight Sparkling for moon's spiced silver bite Upon skin of darkness, loving night more Storm begins unlocking cold wind's door

On the misty window of her room, she let her finger trace a broken line. She was that line.

She was so pale she could have been moonlight.

Sometimes, I doubt the courage My bones are made of And then, A breath finds her way in And her way out The half-way-almost-full moon Smiles down; My heart sighs And quietly whispers: I remember.

Some say that you should turn your face from the light of the moon. They say it makes you mad. I turn my face towards it and I laugh. Make me mad, I whisper. Go on, make Mina mad. I laugh again. Some people think that she's already mad, I think.

Success is the moon and happiness is moonlight.

Tane used to say that her soul was made of sunshine and her eyes shown with moonlight

The bluish, pale face of the house rises above me like a wall of ice and the distant, solitary barking of an owl floats toward me. I half close my eyes. Over the damp dark of the garden flowers swing back and forth like small balloons. The solemn trees, each buried in a cloud of leaves, seem lost in sleep. It is late. I like in the grass, smoking, feeling at ease, pretending the end will be like this. Moonlight falls on my flesh. A breeze circles my wrist. I drift. I shiver. I know that soon the day will come to wash away the moon's white stain, that I shall walk in the morning sun invisible as anyone.

The dancing Sun the dancing moon the dancing stars and the dancing galaxies are the direct expression of our divine Self.

The full Moon's light poured into the room like a stroke from a wide paintbrush...

Their wedding night was in all truth a thing of beauty: the splendor of the celebrations, the hushed intimacy of a private walk under the cryptic light of a large moon, the unexpected delight discovered in the reflection of a candle's flicker in a decanter of aged wine, finally the silent weeping in each other's arms through a night that seemed infinite in its innumerable dimensions.

The meeting of the two lonely souls is the meeting of the dark sea with the moonlight.

The moon can never breathe, but it can take our breath away with the beauty of its cold, arid orb.

[The moon] ... is an example of practiced stability … it wanes when it must, and reliably returns to full strength … it is a humble model of reasonable potential that I can emulate, and follow.

The moonlight gave us courage and the fire made us rebels.

The moonlight covered the tombstones with an ethereal glow, and the statues above the tombs stood like silent guards waiting for something to happen.

The moon was coming slowly up over the hill in front of them. The countryside was bathed in light, pale and cold and silvery. Everything could be seen quite plainly, and Lotta and Jimmy thought it was just like daytime with the colours missing.

The moon was up now and the trees were dark against it, and he passed the frame houses with their narrow yards, light coming from the shuttered windows; the unpaved alleys, with their double rows of houses; Conch town, where all was starched, well-shuttered, virtue, failure, grit and boiled grunts, under-nourishment, prejudice, righteousness, inter-breeding and the comforts of religion; the open-doored, lighted Cuban boilto houses, shacks whose only romance was their names

The moon rose up that evening and shot her silver arrows at the house under the artu tree. The house was empty. Then the moon came across the sea and across the reef. She lit the lagoon to it's dark, dim heart. She lit the coral brains and sand spaces, and the fish casting their shadows on the sand and the coral. The keeper of the lagoon rose to greet her, and the fin of him broke her reflection on the mirror-like surface into a thousand glittering ripples. She saw the white staring ribs of the form on the reef. Then, peeping over the trees, she looked down into the valley, where the great stone idol had kept it's solitary vigil for five thousand years, perhaps, and more. At this base, in his shadow, looking as if under his protection, lay two human beings, naked, clasped in each other's arms and fast asleep. One could scarcely pity his vigil, had it been marked sometimes through the years by such an incident as this. The thing had been conducted just as the birds conduct their love affairs. An affair absolutely natural, absolutely blameless and without sin. A marriage according to Nature, without feasts or guests, consummated with accidental cynicism under the shadow of a religion a thousand years dead.

The moon seems unaware of night's dark hitting on the damp warm rain misguiding owl's spitting A thunder light of love raising hearts beating while weather learns more from rain lovers meeting

The moon was low but not full. The men set out along the dock in conversation. As they dropped onto the dark beach, Simmons declared, ‘There can be no better place in the world than this.’ Henderson had to agree. The beach was beautiful. The stars lit the sand and balmy air rode in as the waves washed up on paradise

The night was nippy and a few stars were out, dimmed by the grin of a crescent moon.

The one created thing which we cannot look at is the one thing in the light of which we look at everything. Like the sun at noonday, mysticism explains everything else by the blaze of its own victorious invisibility. Detached intellectualism is (in the exact sense of a popular phrase) all moonshine; for it is light without heat, and it is secondary light, reflected from a dead world. But the Greeks were right when they made Apollo the god both of imagination and of sanity; for he was both the patron of poetry and the patron of healing. Of necessary dogmas and a special creed I shall speak later. But that transcendentalism by which all men live has primarily much the position of the sun in the sky. We are conscious of it as of a kind of splendid confusion; it is something both shining and shapeless, at once a blaze and a blur. But the circle of the moon is as clear and unmistakable, as recurrent and inevitable, as the circle of Euclid on a blackboard. For the moon is utterly reasonable; and the moon is the mother of lunatics and has given to them all her name.

There is a moon, that rests in the quiet corners of a lover’s lips.

There was something of the wildwood in the man who came and went illusive as moonlight moving through the branches.

She had a new secret, the strenght of the moon, looking at her

There was something in the moonlight tonight. It was stroking the stonework and spires, leaning into cracks between the cobblestones, caressing the stained-glass windows. She felt her heart lift with magic.

The sharp light of the stars and moon sliced away her misconceptions and pared down their layers until the feelings that had always existed between them lay bare.

The soft moonlight, The shimmering sky, The rays of the moon, and Bunch of sparkling stars.

The splendid beauty of this living world,and its subtle moonlight glint wakes a mild youth’s mind,whose colors are of pensive green,and tranquil white to ink his visions keen.

Things are just things, they can't bring back the dead.It just makes me feel better. - Hiiragi

This time, I wanted to enjoy the passion that burned between us until we were both about to combust.