"Can you see the sunset real good on the West side? You can see it on the East side too."
— S.E. Hinton

"Harry looked down and saw deep green mountains and lakes, coppery in the sunset."
— J.K. Rowling (Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows)

"Sunset is the saddest light there is."
— Sue Monk Kidd (The Secret Life of Bees)

"I'm like a bad tempered prom queen at a homecoming dance, And I claim I'm not excited with my life any more. So I blame this town, this job, these friends. The truth is it's myself… By the time I get things figured out, I've change the whole dang plan… Talking shit about a pretty sunset. Blanketing opinions I’ll probably regret soon. Ive changed my mind so much I can’t even trust it. I’ve changed me so much I can’t even trust myself"
— Modest Mouse

"Soon it got dusk, a grapy dusk, a purple dusk over tangerine groves and long melon fields; the sun the color of pressed grapes, slashed with burgandy red, the fields the color of love and Spanish mysteries."
— Jack Kerouac (On the Road)

"Scarcely has night arrived to undeceive, unfurling her wings of crepe (wings drained even of the glimmer just now dying in the tree-tops); scarcely has the last glint still dancing on the burnished metal heights of the tall towers ceased to fade, like a still glowing coal in a spent brazier, which whitens gradually beneath the ashes, and soon is indistinguishable from the abandoned hearth, than a fearful murmur rises amongst them, their teeth chatter with despair and rage, they hasten and scatter in their dread, finding witches everywhere, and ghosts. It is night... and Hell will gape once more."
— Charles Nodier (Smarra & Trilby)

"The sky, at sunset, looked like a carnivorous flower."
— Roberto Bolaño (2666)

"…she remembered watching a summer sunset from this very spot. Not so long ago; just a lifetime."
— Sharon Kay Penman (When Christ and His Saints Slept)

"Mine is the sultry sunset when the skies
Tremble with strange, intolerable thunder:
And at the dead of an hushed night, these eyes
Draw down the soaring oracles winged with wonder"
— Lionel Johnson

"Bright colours in the west, giant butterflies dancing as night crept like a cripple toward the east."
— Roberto Bolaño (2666)

"One might fancy that day, the London day, was just beginning. Like a woman who had slipped off her print dress and white apron to array herself in blue and pearls, the day changed, put off stuff, took gauze, changed to evening, and with the same sigh of exhilaration that a woman breathes, tumbling petticoats on the floor, it too shed dust, heat, colour; the traffic thinned; motor cars, tinkling, darting, succeeded the lumber of vans; and here and there among the thick foliage of the squares an intense light hung. I resign, the evening seemed to say, as it paled and faded above the battlements and prominences, moulded, pointed, of hotel, flat, and block of shops, I fade, she was beginning. I disappear, but London would have none of it, and rushed her bayonets into the sky, pinioned her, constrained her to partnership in her revelry."
— Virginia Woolf (Mrs. Dalloway)