Quotes
Quotes about Night
The watch-dog's voice that bay'd the whispering wind, And the loud laugh that spoke the vacant mind: There all in sweet confusion sought the shade, And fill'd each pause the nightingale had made.
The smoke ascends In a rosy-and-golden haze. The spires Shine and are changed. In the valley Shadows rise. The lark sings on. The sun Closing his benediction, Sinks, and the darkening air Thrills with the sense of the triumphing night,-- Night with train of stars And her great gift of sleep.
Now deep in ocean sunk the lamp of light, And drew behind the cloudy vale of night.
At night, to his own dark fancies a prey, He lies like a hedgehog rolled up the wrong way, Tormenting himself with his prickles.
'Tis the witching hour of night, Orbed is the moon and bright, And the stars they glisten, glisten, Seeming with bright eyes to listen- For what listen they?
And the night shall be filled with music And the cares, that infest the day, Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs, And as silently steal away.
I heard the trailing garments of the Night Sweep through her marble halls.
Night time is really the best time to work. All the ideas are there to be yours because everyone else is asleep.
The night walked down the sky with the moon in her hand.
A decision made at night may be changed in the morning.
A man can do only what a man can do. But if he does that each day he can sleep at night and do it again the next day.
Boast during the day; be humble at night.
Don't sleep too much. If you sleep 3 hours less each night for a year, you will have an extra month and a half to succeed in.
I have head the nightingale herself.
Hark! ah, the nightingale-- The tawny-throated! Hark from that moonlit cedar what a burst! What triumph! hark!--what pain! . . . . Again--thou hearest? Eternal passion! Eternal pain!
For as nightingales do upon glow-worms feed, So poets live upon the living light.
It is the hour when from the boughs The nightingale's high note is heard; It is the hour when lovers' vows Seem sweet in every whispered word; And gentle winds, and waters near, Make music to the lonely ear. Each flower the dews have lightly wet, And in the sky the stars are met, And on the wave is deeper blue, And on the leaf a browner hue, And in the heaven that clear obscure, So softly dark, and darkly pure. Which follows the decline of day, As twilight melts beneath the moon away.
'Tis the merry nightingale That crowds, and hurries, and precipitates With fast thick warble his delicious notes, As he were fearful that an April night Would be too short for him to utter forth His love-chant, and disburthen his full soul Of all its music!
Like a wedding-song all-melting Sings the nightingale, the dear one.
The nightingale appear'd the first, And as her melody she sang, The apple into blossom burst, To life the grass and violets sprang.
Where the nightingale doth sing Not a senseless, tranced thing, But divine melodious truth.
Thou wast not born for death, immortal bird! No hungry generations tread thee down; The voice I hear this passing night was heard In ancient days by emperor and clown.
To the red rising moon, and loud and deep The nightingale is singing from the steep.
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.
O nightingale, that on yon bloomy spray Warblest at eve, when all the woods are still; Thou with fresh hope the lover's heart dost fill While the jolly hours lead on propitious May.
