Larry McMurtry Quotes

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.

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.

Men shut their doors against a setting sun.

The day is done, and the darkness Falls from the wings of Night, As a feather is wafted downward From an eagle in his flight.

It was early evening when they walked outside, the sky the color of pink lemonade.

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

The sky grew darker, painted blue on blue, one stroke at a time, into deeper and deeper shades of night.

the redness had seeped from the day and night was arranging herself around us. Cooling things down, staining and dyeing the evening purple and blue black.

Day, like a weary pilgrim, had reached the western gate of heaven, and Evening stooped down to unloose the latchets of his sandal shoon.

The whisper of the dusk is night shedding its husk.

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

We stay this way until twilight colours the window and the hour calls me home

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

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

There midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow, And evening full of the linnet's wings.

Night falls fast. Today is in the past.

The longest Day hath an Eueninge.

The sun's rim dips; the stars rush out: At one stride comes the dark; With far-heard whisper o'er the sea, Off shot the spectre-bark.

Softly the evening came /with the sunset/.

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.

In the full light of day, I don't want to think about the sunset.

Night falls fast. Today is in the past. Blown from the dark hill hither to my door Three flakes, then four Arrive, then many more.

Outside, daylight was bleeding slowly toward dusk.

The day is done; and slowly from the scene the stooping sun upgathers his spent shafts, and puts them back into his golden quiver!

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