Night Quotes

Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could. Some blunders and absurdities have crept in; forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is  a new day. You shall begin it serenely and with too high a spirit to be encumbered with your old nonsense.

Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could. Some blunders and absurdities have crept in; forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is  a new day. You shall begin it serenely and with too high a spirit to be encumbered with your old nonsense.

Clear eyes. Full hearts. Can't lose.

All men dream, but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds wake in the day to find that it was vanity: but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act out their dream with open eyes, to make it possible.

I’m always amazed at friends who say they try to read at night in bed but always end up falling asleep. I have the opposite problem. If a book is good I can’t go to sleep, and stay up way past my bedtime, hooked on the writing. Is anything better than waking up after a late-night read and diving right back into the plot before you even get out of bed to brush your teeth?

Make me a willow cabin at your gate,
And call upon my soul within the house;
Write loyal cantons of contemned love,
And sing them loud even in the dead of night;
Holla your name to the reverberate hills,
And make the babbling gossip of the air
Cry out.

Why does one feel so different at night? Why is it so exciting to be awake when everybody else is asleep? Late-it is very late! And yet every moment you feel more and more wakeful, as though you were slowly, almost with every breath, waking up into a new, wonderful, far more thrilling and exciting world than the daylight one.

If people sat outside and looked at the stars each night, I’ll bet they’d live a lot differently.

Have you ever, on a cloudless night, looked down from a passing aircraft flying over Canada? Endless, glowing strings of cities, towns, and homesteads. Stretching on and on, one province to the next. With only the stars in the distance.

The stars went out and so did the moon.
The singer stopped playing and went to bed
While the Weary Blues echoed through his head.
He slept like a rock or a man that's dead.

The night is beautiful,
So are the faces of my people.

I like the dark part of the night, after midnight and before four-thirty... Then I can breathe, and can think while others are sleeping, in a way can stop time, can have it so – this has always been my dream – so that while everyone else is frozen, I can work busily about them, doing whatever it is that needs to be done, like the elves who make the shoes while children sleep.

In our town there is a secret spot where you can still see the stars at night, believe it or not. It is the only spot like that left, unclouded by the dwindling skyscrapers rising nearby [....] Follow the little hill that rises from the park to a small clearing which overlooks [a] statue [...], most of us later remember this spot as the first place we knew we might be in love.

I have been one acquainted with the night.

The night has a thousand eyes,
And the day but one.

Some are born to sweet delight,
Some are born to endless night.

The day Thou gavest, Lord, is ended,
The darkness falls at Thy behest.

So, while the light fails
On a winter's afternoon, in a secluded chapel
History is now and England.

Joy rul'd the day, and Love the night.

In a real dark night of the soul it is always three o'clock in the morning, day after day.