Dusk Quotes - Page 7

I reached this level by sheer dint of hard work, toiling away at scores of tricks and experiments. I used to play with the ball from dawn till dusk and just kept practising. If I wasn't playing matches, it was trying out one on one or two against two with a tennis ball. Then I used to try aiming at certain targets. That's the only way to learn. And if I missed the target, I kept trying until I scored

Zinedine Zidane

Hard Work, Two, Play

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You said I was your number-one pick." "And you are. In our hearts. Alphabetically, though, Dusk comes before you.

Derek Landy

Heart, Numbers, Said

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O'er folded blooms On swirls of musk, The beetle booms adown the glooms And bumps along the dusk.

James Whitcomb Riley

Bumps, Swirls, Musk

James Whitcomb Riley (1993). “The Complete Poetical Works of James Whitcomb Riley”, p.148, Indiana University Press

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Prometheus, I have no Titan's might,
Yet I, too, must each dusk renew my heart,
For daytime's vulture talons tear apart
The tender alcoves built by love at night.

Philip Jose Farmer

Life, Heart, Night

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Why do I write today? The beauty of the terrible faces of our nonentities stirs me to it: colored women day workers- old and experienced- returning home at dusk, in cast off clothing faces like old Florentine oak.

William Carlos Williams

Home, Writing, Faces

William Carlos Williams (1991). “The Collected Poems of William Carlos Williams”, p.70, New Directions Publishing

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Spring scarce had greener fields to show than these Of mid September; through the still warm noon The rivulets ripple forth a gladder tune Than ever in the summer; from the trees Dusk-green, and murmuring inward melodies, No leaf drops yet; only our evenings swoon In pallid skies more suddenly, and the moon Finds motionless white mists out on the leas.

Edward Dowden

Summer, Spring, Moon

Edward Dowden (1877). “Poems”

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what makes us so afraid is the thing we half see, or half hear, as in a wood at dusk, when a tree stump becomes an animal and a sound becomes a siren. And most of that fear is the fear of not knowing, of not actually seeing correctly.

Edna O'Brien

Fear, Animal, Knowing

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The prey of fear, he, always curtailed, extinguished, thwarted by the dusk, work partly done, says to the alternating blaze, "Again the sun! anew each day; and new and new and new, that comes into and steadies my soul."

Marianne Moore

Fear, Soul, Done

Marianne Moore (1994). “Complete Poems”, p.120, Penguin

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Earthly joy can take but a bat-like flight, always checked, always limited, in dusk and darkness. But the love of Christ breaks through the vaulting, and leads us up into the free sky above, expanding to the very throne of Jehovah, and drawing us still upward to the infinite heights of glory.

Frances Ridley Havergal

Break Through, Sky, Drawing

Frances Ridley Havergal (1892). “Golden Thoughts from the Life and Works of Frances Ridley Havergal ...”

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Heat lingers
As days are still long;
Early mornings are cool
While autumn is still young.
Dew on the lotus
Scatters pure perfume;
Wind on the bamboos
Gives off a gentle tinkling.
I am idle and lonely,
Lying down all day,
Sick and decayed;
No one asks for me;
Thin dusk before my gates,
Cassia blossoms inch deep.

Bai Juyi

Lonely, Morning, Lying

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How heron comes It is a negligence of the mind not to notice how at dusk heron comes to the pond and stands there in his death robes, perfect servant of the system, hungry, his eyes full of attention, his wings pure light

Mary Oliver

Eye, Light, Wings

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She was coming. I watched the slight figure grow out of the dusk between the trees, and the darkness in which I had walked of late fell away. The wood that had been so gloomy was a place of sunlight and song; had red roses sprung up around me I had felt no wonder. She came softly and slowly with bent head and hanging arms, not knowing that I was near. I went not to meet her - it was my fancy to have her come to me still - but when she raised her eyes and saw me I fell upon my knees.

Mary Johnston

Love, Song, Eye

Mary Johnston (1857). “To Have and to Hold”, p.339, Library of Alexandria

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Blessed is he who like Joshua (cf. Josh. 10:12-13) keeps the Sun of righteousness from setting in himself throughout the whole day of his present life, not allowing it to be blotted out by the dusk of sin and ignorance. In this way he will truly be able to put to flight the cunning demons that rise up against him.

Maximus the Confessor

Christian, Blessed, Ignorance

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No sun, no moon, no morn, no noon, No dawn, no dusk, no proper time of day, . . . . . . No road, no street, no t' other side the way, . . . . . . No shade, no shine, no butterflies, no bees, No fruits, no flowers, no leaves, no buds.

Thomas Hood

Flower, Butterfly, Moon

Thomas Hood, “No!”

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Looking about I see no cherry blossoms And no crimson leaves A straw-thatched hut by a bay In the autumn dusk.

Fujiwara no Teika

Autumn, Cherry Blossom, Cherries

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Death is only an old door Set in a garden wall; On quiet hinges it gives, at dusk When the thrushes call. Along the lintel are green leaves, Beyond, the light lies still; Very weary and willing feet Go over that sill. There is nothing to trouble any heart; Nothing to hurt at all. Death is only an old door In a garden wall.

Nancy Byrd Turner

Hurt, Wall, Lying

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Lovely are the curves of the white owl sweeping
Wavy in the dusk lit by one large star.
Lone on the fir-branch, his rattle-note unvaried,
Brooding o'er the gloom, spins the brown eve-jar.

George Meredith

Stars, Sunset, Night

1851 Poems,'Love in the Valley', stanza 5. The poemwas revised and republished in1878.

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That evening, rowing on the quiet river as sunset turned to dusk, I saw an occasional smoky smudge on the towpath, always slightly ahead of me, like a dark star guiding me home.

Deborah Harkness

Stars, Home, Sunset

Deborah Harkness (2014). “All Souls Trilogy”, p.63, Penguin

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My sobriety isn't up for discussion, but as for vices, I seem to hack away at them with my invisible machete from dawn till dusk. The vice of 'more' is an ongoing theme.

Anthony Kiedis

Sobriety, Dawn, Vices

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I was young, and by instinct of self-preservation I had to collect my energy on something, if I were not to be whirled away with the dusk on the farm-roads, or the smoke on the plain. I begun in the evenings to write stories, fairy-tales, and romances, that would take my mind a long way off, to other countries and times.

Isak Dinesen

Country, Writing, Self

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And as the years have passed, the time has grown longer. The sad truth is that what I could recall in five seconds all too needed ten, then thirty, then a full minute - like shadows lengthening at dusk. Someday, I suppose, the shadows will be swallowed up in darkness.

Haruki Murakami

Years, Darkness, Shadow

FaceBook post by Haruki Murakami from Feb 08, 2016

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... But I'm annoying you to no purpose with my arguments. A person whose house is only open on the west can't see the sun rise at dawn; it's only seen when the sun sets at dusk. If one tries to compare the color and appearance of the two, one will go on arguing forever... ...The fault lies not with the vision but with the closed windows. If you look out of only one opening till the day you die, you'll ever see anything new.

Sarat Chandra Chattopadhyay

Lying, Color, Two

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He no longer dreamed of storms, nor of women, nor of great occurrences, nor of great fish, nor fights, nor contests of strength, nor of his wife. He only dreamed of places now and the lions on the beach. They played like young cats in the dusk and he loved them as he loved the boy. He never dreamed about the boy. He simply woke, looked out the open door at the moon and unrolled his trousers and put them on.

Ernest Hemingway

Beach, Cat, Fighting

Ernest Hemingway (1995). “The old man and the sea”, p.9, Hueber Verlag

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A little knowledge is a dangerous thing." - Harkat Mulds (Hunters of the Dusk)

Darren Shan

Hunters, Littles, Dangerous

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Home is the wallpaper above the bed, the family dinner table, the church bells in the morning, the bruised shins of the playground, the small fears that come with dusk, the streets and squares and monuments and shops that constitute one's first universe.

Henry Anatole Grunwald

Morning, Fear, Home

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