Daniel Woodrell Quotes

The approach of night The skies yet blushing with departing light, When falling dews with spangles deck'd the glade, And the low sun had lengthen'd ev'ry shade.

In that dilated moment after sunset when the sky holds all the light.

I’ve always felt that night doesn’t fall. Night rises.

A moment, and its glory was no more. The sun went down beneath the long dark lines of hill and cloud which piled up in the west an airy city, wall heaped on wall, and battlement on battlement; the light was all withdrawn; the shining church turned cold and dark; the stream forgot to smile; the birds were silent; and the gloom of winter dwelt on everything.

A large drop of sun lingered on the horizon and then dripped over and was gone, and the sky was brilliant over the spot where it had gone, and a torn cloud, like a bloody rag, hung over the spot of its going. And dusk crept over the sky from the eastern horizon, and darkness crept over the land from the east.

After the sunset on the prairie, there are only the stars

Twilight - a time of pause when nature changes her guard. All living things would fade and die from too much light or too much dark, if twilight were not.

Night comes to the desert all at once, as if someone turned off the light.

The twilight is long fingers and black hair.

It's not dark yet But it's getting there

Night falls. Or has fallen. Why is it that night falls, instead of rising, like the dawn? Yet if you look east, at sunset, you can see night rising, not falling; darkness lifting into the sky, up from the horizon, like a black sun behind cloud cover. Like smoke from an unseen fire, a line of fire just below the horizon, brushfire or a burning city. Maybe night falls because it’s heavy, a thick curtain pulled up over the eyes. Wool blanket.

Suddenly the day was gone, night came out from under each tree and spread.

Now are the woods all black, But still the sky is blue.

When the spent sun throws up its rays on cloud And goes down burning into the gulf below, No voice in nature is heard to cry aloud At what has happened. Birds, at least must know It is the change to darkness in the sky. Murmuring something quiet in her breast, One bird begins to close a faded eye; Or overtaken too far from his nest, Hurrying low above the grove, some waif Swoops just in time to his remembered tree. At most he thinks or twitters softly, 'Safe! Now let the night be dark for all of me. Let the night be too dark for me to see Into the future. Let what will be, be.

The sun was already declining and each of the trees held a premonition of night.

Night falls fast. Today is the past.

Vast and deep the mountain shadows grew.

The whisper of the dusk is night shedding its husk.

... there are shadows because there are hills.

The sky slowly pulled up its blue dress to reveal night.

Night was coming on in, borrowing the light. It had started out borrowing just a few cents worth of the light, but now it was borrowing thousands of dollars worth of the light every second. The light would soon be gone, the bank closed, the tellers unemployed, the bank president a suicide.

Finish, good lady; the bright day is done, And we are for the Dark.

Patrick started running after the sunset. And Sam immediately followed him. And I saw them in silhouette. Running after the sun.

Night falls fast. Today is in the past.