Quotes
Quotes about Midnight
Come, let's have one other gaudy night. Call to me. All my sad captains. Fill our bowls once more. Let's mock the midnight bell.
LightWinged Smoke Lightwinged Smoke, Icarian bird, Melting thy pinions in thy upward flight, Lark without song, and the messenger of dawn, Circling above the hamlets as thy nest; Or else, departing dream, and shadowy form Of midnight vision, gathering up thy skirts; By night star-veiling, and by day Darkening the light and blotting out the sun; Go thou my incense upward from this hearth, And ask the gods to pardon this clear flame. -Henry David Thoreau-.
But she is vanish'd to her shady home Under the deep, inscrutable; and there Weeps in a midnight made of her own hair.
Have you the heart? When your head did but ache, I knit my handkercher about your brows-- The best I had, a princess wrought it me-- And I did never ask it you again; And with my hand at midnight held your head, And like the watchful minutes to the hour, Still and anon cheered up the heavy time, Saying, 'What lack you?' and 'Where lies your grief?'
He was my North, my South, my East and West, My working week and Sunday rest, My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song; I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.
Is there not A tongue in every star that talks with man, And wooes him to be wise? nor wooes in vain; This dead of midnight is the noon of thought, And wisdom mounts her zenith with the stars.
I stood on the bridge at midnight, As the clocks were striking the hour, And the moon rose over the city, Behind the dark church tower.
Midnight! the outpost of advancing day! The frontier town and citadel of night!
O wild and wondrous midnight, There is a might in thee To make the charmed body Almost like spirit be, And give it some faint glimpses Of immortality.
Soon as midnight brought on the dusky hour Friendliest to sleep and silence.
The iron tongue of midnight hath told twelve. Lovers, to bed; 'tis almost fairy time.
Midnight, yet not a nose From Tower Hill to Piccadilly snored!
Midnight, and yet no eye Through all the Imperial City closed in sleep.
And bear about the mockery of woe To midnight dances and the public show.
How like a queen comes forth the lonely Moon From the slow opening curtains of the clouds Walking in beauty to her midnight throne!
Tomorrow is the most important thing in life. Comes into us at midnight very clean. It's perfect when it arrives and puts itself in our hands. It hopes we've learned something from yesterday.
My steps have pressed the flowers, That to the Muses' bowers The eternal dews of Helicon have given: And trod the mountain height, Where Science, young and bright, Scans with poetic gaze the midnight-heaven. Yet have I found no power to vie With thine, severe necessity!
What bird so sings, yet does so wail? O, 'tis the ravish'd nightingale-- Jug, jug, jug, jug--tereu, she cries, And still her woes at midnight rise.
A song to the oak, the brave old oak, Who hath ruled in the greenwood long; Here's health and renown to his broad green crown, And his fifty arms so strong. There's fear in his frown when the Sun goes down, And the fire in the West fades out; And he showeth his might on a wild midnight, When the storms through his branches shout.
Good-night! good-night! as we so oft have said Beneath this roof at midnight, in the days That are no more, and shall no more return. Thou hast but taken up thy lamp and gone to bed; I stay a little longer, as one stays To cover up the embers that still burn.
In the black of my midnight you're the star for me.
Of all the horrid, hideous notes of woe, Sadder than owl-songs or the midnight blast; Is that portentous phrase, "I told you so."
Theology is never any help; it is searching in a dark cellar at midnight for a black cat that isn't there. Theologians can persuade themselves of anything.
Light Winged Smoke Lightwinged Smoke, Icarian bird, Melting thy pinions in thy upward flight, Lark without song, and the messenger of dawn, Circling above the hamlets as thy nest; Or else, departing dream, and shadowy form Of midnight vision, gathering up thy skirts; By night star-veiling, and by day Darkening the light and blotting out the sun; Go thou my incense upward from this hearth, And ask the gods to pardon this clear flame. -Henry David Thoreau-.
The iron tongue of midnight hath told twelve. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act v. Sc. 1.
