Dean Koontz Quotes

Night, having Sleep, the brother of Death.

Sleep is a little death, dreams the whisperings of the Other, who would drag us all into his eternal night.

Night, the mother of fear and mystery, was coming upon me.

Now entertain conjecture of a time When creeping murmur and the poring dark Fills the wide vessel of the universe.

Night, when words fade and things come alive.

The night will close the door & fasten my anchor within the veil and I shall go away to sleep.

A house is never still in darkness to those who listen intently; there is a whispering in distant chambers, an unearthly hand presses the snib of the window, the latch rises. Ghosts were created when the first man awoke in the night.

The rest, is silence.

When I lie where shades of darkness Shall no more assail mine eyes.

Amplified by the still of night, the book opened -- a gust of wind.

There was no wind; there was no passing shadow on the deep shade of the night; there was no noise. The city lay behind him, lighted here and there, and starry worlds were hidden by the masonry of spire and roof that hardly made out any shapes against the sky. Dark and lonely distance lay around him everywhere, and the clocks were faintly striking two.

Composer” is a word which here means “a person who sits in a room, muttering and humming and figuring out what notes the orchestra is going to play.” This is called composing. But last night, the Composer was not muttering. He was not humming. He was not moving, or even breathing. This is called decomposing.

Half our days we pass in the shadow of the earth; and the brother of death exacteth a third part of our lives.

Care-charmer Sleep, son of the sable Night, Brother to Death, in silent darkness born; Relive my languish, and restore the light.

The first thing he noticed was how quiet it was. This was nothing like the kind of quiet he heard when he woke up in the middle of the night after a bad dream. When that happened, there were always strange, unidentifiable sounds seeping into his room from the tiny gaps where the windowpanes weren't sealed together correctly. At those moments he could always tell there was life outside, even if all that life was fast asleep. It was a silence that wasn't silence at all.

Dust into Dust, and under Dust to lie, Sans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer, and-sans End!

Once upon a midnight dreary

Black is like the silence of the body after death, the close of life.

At night, here in the library, the ghosts have voices.

O mysterious Night! thou art not silent; many tongues halt thou.

There are moments of despair that come sometimes, when night sets in and a white fog presses against the windows. Then our house changes its shape, rears up and becomes a place of despair. Then fear and rage run simply--and the thought of Death as a friend. This is the simplest of thoughts, that Death must come when we call, although he is a god.

The snow had begun in the gloaming, and busily all the night had been heaping field and highway with a silence deep and white.

Darkness now rose, as daylight sunk, and brought in low'ring Night her shadowy offspring.