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Quotes About Dusk

Quotes tagged as "dusk" (showing 1-24 of 24)
J.K. Rowling
“Twilight fell: The sky turned to a light, dusky purple littered with tiny silver stars.”
J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

“The pale stars were sliding into their places. The whispering of the leaves was almost hushed. All about them it was still and shadowy and sweet. It was that wonderful moment when, for lack of a visible horizon, the not yet darkened world seems infinitely greater—a moment when anything can happen, anything be believed in.”
Olivia Howard Dunbar, The Shell of Sense

H. Rider Haggard
“The moon went slowly down in loveliness; she departed into the depth of the horizon, and long veil-like shadows crept up the sky through which the stars appeared. Soon, however, they too began to pale before a splendour in the east, and the advent of the dawn declared itself in the newborn blue of heaven. Quieter and yet more quiet grew the sea, quiet as the soft mist that brooded on her bosom, and covered up her troubling, as in our tempestuous life the transitory wreaths of sleep brook upon a pain-racked soul, causing it to forget its sorrow. From the east to the west sped those angels of the Dawn, from sea to sea, from mountain-top to mountain-top, scattering light from breast and wing. On they sped out of the darkness, perfect, glorious; on, over the quiet sea, over the low coast-line, and the swamps beyond, and the mountains above them; over those who slept in peace and those who woke in sorrow; over the evil and the good; over the living and the dead; over the wide world and all that breathes or as breathed thereon.”
H. Rider Haggard, She

“As the station wagon pulled back onto the highway, the sun was slowly sinking below the horizon like a leaky boat. Well, except for that fact that boats are not generally round, orange and on fire. Hmm. Come to think of it, in no way whatsoever did the sun, in this instance, resemble a leaky boat. My apologies. That was a dreadful attempt at simile. Please allow me to try again.
As the station wagon pulled back onto the highway, the sun was slowly sinking below the horizon like a self-luminous, gaseous sphere comprised mainly of of hydrogen and helium.”
Cuthbert Soup, A Whole Nother Story

Charles Baudelaire
“I love to watch the fine mist of the night come on,
The windows and the stars illumined, one by one,
The rivers of dark smoke pour upward lazily,
And the moon rise and turn them silver. I shall see
The springs, the summers, and the autumns slowly pass;
And when old Winter puts his blank face to the glass,
I shall close all my shutters, pull the curtains tight,
And build me stately palaces by candlelight.”
Charles Baudelaire, Les Fleurs du Mal

Stephen King
“Outside, daylight was bleeding slowly toward dusk.”
Stephen King, The Running Man

“...dusk is the time when men whisper of matters about which they remain silent in the full light of the sun.”
Simon Raven

Charles Nodier
“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

Franz Kafka
“People who walk across dark bridges, past saints,
with dim, small lights.
Clouds which move across gray skies
past churches
with towers darkened in the dusk.
One who leans against granite railing
gazing into the evening waters,
His hands resting on old stones.”
Franz Kafka

Ed Gorman
“There's a special quality to the loneliness of dusk, a melancholy more brooding even than the night's.”
Ed Gorman, Everybody's Somebody's Fool

Kaitlin Bevis
“[Hades] returned his attention to the playlist while I eased the car back on the road. His fingers flipped deftly over the screen. 'Orpheus...Dusk...Orpheus...Dusk...do you have anything on here that doesn't make people want to jump off a cliff?'
... 'I'm driving. When you learn to drive something more modern than a horse and buggy, we can listen to your music.'
'I can drive!'
'Did they even have cars the last time you can to the surface?' I teased.
'Yes.'
'Not counting the minute and a half you spent rescuing me last year?'
Hades fell silent, and I laughed. 'I didn't think so.”
Kaitlin Bevis

Ellen Glasgow
“The afternoon slipped away while we talked -- she talked brightly when any subject came up that interested her -- and it was the last hour of day -- that grave, still hour when the movement of life seems to droop and falter for a few precious minutes -- that brought us the thing I had dreaded silently since my first night in the house.”
Ellen Glasgow, The Shadowy Third

Cornell Woolrich
“It's six o'clock; my drink is at the three-quarter mark - three-quarters down not three-quarters up - and the night begins.

("New York Blues")”
Cornell Woolrich, Night and Fear: A Centenary Collection of Stories

Elizabeth Gaskell
“There was a filmy veil of soft dull mist obscuring, but not hiding, all objects, giving them a lilac hue, for the sun had not yet fully set; a robin was singing ... The leaves were more gorgeous than ever; the first touch of frost would lay them all low to the ground. Already one or two kept constantly floating down, amber and golden in the low slanting sun-rays.”
Elizabeth Gaskell, North and South

Marisha Pessl
“...somewhere, nearby voices filled with dusk, cabs and panhandlers and one drunken girl screeching like a wounded bird - all of it flushed with a warmth and sad beauty I'd never noticed before.”
Marisha Pessl, Night Film

Paul Gallico
“The setting sun had turned the blue sky a brilliant orange, then soft pink merging to pearl; the plum velvet of night had come out of the east, spangled with stars. (from Ludmila)”
Paul Gallico, Three Legends: The Snow Goose, the Small Miracle, Ludmila

Anne Enright
“And dusk fell because it suited his skin.”
Anne Enright, What are You Like?

Victoria Kahler
“The sun was still out, wouldn’t even start to set for an hour, but the early evening still had that “magic hour” feeling. The air was warm and breezy. The houses looked sparkling with windows reflecting the still bright sun.”
Victoria Kahler, Luisa Across the Bay

Walter de la Mare
“There was still an hour or two of daylight - even though clouds admitted only a greyish light upon the world, and his Uncle Timothy's house was by nature friendly to gloom.

("Out Of The Deep")”
Walter de la Mare, Great Tales of Terror and the Supernatural

Vicki Covington
“It was deep afternoon when shadows begin to grow, light becomes gold, and you realize that this particular day has reached its destiny. Like old age, it’s not yet over, but there’s no denying the time of day.”
Vicki Covington, Bird of Paradise

Michael Connelly
“Bosch knew the dawn had nothing on the dusk. Dawn always came up ugly, as if the sun was clumsy and in a hurry. The dusk was smoother, the moon more graceful. Maybe it was because the moon was more patient. In life and nature, Bosch thought, darkness always waits.”
Michael Connelly, The Closers
tags: dawn, dusk, moon, sun

Rodney Ross
“I just wait to go elsewhere but I get there and it’s the same dusk.”
Rodney Ross, The Cool Part of His Pillow
tags: dusk

Soar
“If you don't look before the dusk and beyond the dawn, you won't be able to see the sun. (Soar)”
Soar, Yours, poetically: Special Deluxe Edition of Selected Poems and Quotes

James Salter
“That night she heard the branches tapping against the house and the window frames rattle. She sat alone and thought of the geese, she could hear them out there. It had gotten cold. The wind was blowing their feathers. They lived a long time, ten or fifteen years, they said. The one they had seen on the lawn might still be alive, settled back into the fields with the others, in from the ocean where they went to be safe, the survivors of bloody ambushes. Somewhere in the wet grass, she imagined, lay one of them, dark sodden breast, graceful neck still extended, great wings striving to beat, bloody sounds coming from the holes in its beak. She went around and turned on the lights. The rain was coming down, the sea was crashing, a comrade lay dead in the whirling darkness.”
James Salter, Dusk and Other Stories
tags: dusk

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