Edna St. Vincent Millay Quotes

Night falls fast. Today is the past.

... but the longest day hath its evening.

The longest Day hath an Eueninge.

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.

Twilight, again. Another ending. No matter how perfect the day is, it always has to end.

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.

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 whisper of the dusk is night shedding its husk.

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's not dark yet But it's getting there

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

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

Oh, how short are the days! How soon the night overtakes us!

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

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.

I hate to see the evening sun go down.

Be the day never so long, Evermore at last they ring to evensong.

We tried not to age, but time had its rage.

Time flies over us, but leaves its shadow behind.

Men shut their doors against a setting sun.

The sun can't shine forever.

Days, pale slices between nights, they blend, not exactly alike, transparencies so lightly tinted that only stacked all together do they darken to a fatal shade.

Outside, daylight was bleeding slowly toward dusk.

Night is falling: at dusk, you must have good eyesight to be able to tell the Good Lord from the Devil.

Twilight fell: The sky turned to a light, dusky purple littered with tiny silver stars.