Night, when words fade and things come alive.
Not being able to sleep is terrible. You have the misery of having partied all night... without the satisfaction.
Alcohol is barren. The words a man speaks in the night of drunkenness fade like the darkness itself at the coming of day.
Last night, there came a frost, which has done great damage to my garden.... It is sad that Nature will play such tricks on us poor mortals, inviting us with sunny smiles to confide in her, and then, when we are entirely within her power, striking us to the heart.
Medicine is my lawful wife and literature my mistress; when I get tired of one, I spend the night with the other
At night, when the sky is full of stars and the sea is still you get the wonderful sensation that you are floating in space.
In their dreams at night, people wander around as long as they sleep; just so, they are under the power of the snake Maya, as long as their hearts are filled with ego and duality.
God is day and night, winter and summer, war and peace, surfeit and hunger.
A mistress should be like a little country retreat near the town, not to dwell in constantly, but only for a night and away.
What a thing it is to sit absolutely alone, in the forests, at night, cherished by this wonderful, unintelligible, perfectly innocent speech, the most comforting speech in the world, the talk that rain makes by itself all over the bridges, and the talk of the water courses everywhere in the hollows!Nobody started it, nobody is going to stop it. It will talk as long as it wants, this rain. As long as it talks I am going to listen.
The night was cloudless and absolutely without wind.
The butterflies slept on, and on, and on, with wings tightly folded together
until the rays of sun fell upon them the following morning,
and then as if touched with a magic wand,
the mighty colony wafted into the air.
Last night, ah, yesternight, betwixt her lips and mine
There fell thy shadow, Cynara! thy breath was shed
Upon my soul between the kisses and the wine;
And I was desolate and sick of an old passion,
Yea, I was desolate and bowed my head:
I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion.
I cried for madder music and for stronger wine,
But when the feast is finished and the lamps expire,
Then falls thy shadow, Cynara! the night is thine
The good talk that is inseparable from a wine dinner is even more important than the wines that are being served. Never bring up your better bottles if you are entertaining a man who cannot talk. Keep your treasures for a night when those few who are nearest to your heart can gather round your table, free from care, with latchkeys in their pockets and no last train to catch.
How pleasant is Saturday night,
When I have tried all the week to be good,
And not spoke a word that was bad,
And obliged everyone that I could.
As only New Yorkers know, if you can get through the twilight, you'll live through the night.
The mountains, rivers, earth, grasses, trees, and forests are always emanating a subtle, precious light, day and night, always emanating a subtle, precious sound, demonstrating and expounding to all people the unsurpassed ultimate truth.
One-third to one-half of humanity are said to go to bed hungry every night. In the Old Stone Age the fraction must have been much smaller. This is the era of hunger unprecedented. Now, in the time of the greatest technical power, is starvation an institution. Reverse another venerable formula: the amount of hunger increases relatively and absolutely with the evolution of culture.
The result was that, if it happened to clear off after a cloudy evening, I frequently arose from my bed at any hour of the night or morning and walked two miles to the observatory to make some observation included in the programme.
Sweet the coming on / Of grateful evening mild; then silent night / With this her solemn bird and this fair moon, / And these the gems of heaven, her starry train.
Don't place too much confidence in the man who boasts of being as honest as the day is long. Wait until you meet him at night.
Such a fatigue of adjectives, a drone of alliterations, a huffing of hyphenated words hurdling the meter like tired horses. Such a faded upholstery of tears, stars, bells, bones, flood and blooda thud of consonants in tongue, night, dark, dust, seed, wound and wind.
The night before I left Las Vegas I walked out in the desert to look at the moon. There was a jeweled city on the horizon, spires rising in the night, but the jewels were diadems of electric and the spires were the neon of signs ten stories high.
It's one of the tragic ironies of the theatre that only one man in it can count on steady work -- the night watchman.
A nation can survive its fools, and even the ambitious. But it cannot survive treason from within. An enemy at the gates is less formidable, for he is known and carries his banner openly. But the traitor moves amongst those within the gate freely, his sly whispers rustling through all the alleys, heard in the very halls of government itself. For the traitor appears not a traitor; he speaks in accents familiar to his victims, and he wears their face and their arguments, he appeals to the baseness that lies deep in the hearts of all men. He rots the soul of a nation, he works secretly and unknown in the night to undermine the pillars of the city, he infects the body politic so that it can no longer resist. A murderer is less to fear. The traitor is the plague.