Charles Dickens Quotes

The wolf was at the door. His shadow spilled into the room, taking it over.

Only one ship is seeking us, a black-Sailed unfamiliar, towing at her backA huge and birdless silence. In her wakeNo waters breed or break.

I know the night is not the same as the day: that all things are different, that the things of the night cannot be explained in the day, because they do not then exist, and the night can be a dreadful time for lonely people once their loneliness has started.

I am the shadow on the moon at night/Filling your dreams to the brim with fright.

The night is quiet. Like a camp before battle. The city beset by a thing unknown and will it come from forest or sea? The murengers have walled the pale, the gates are shut, but lo the thing's inside and can you guess his shape? Where he's kept or what's the counter of his face? Is he a weaver, bloody shuttle shot through a time warp, a carder of souls from the world's nap? Or a hunter with hounds or do bone horses draw his dead cart through the streets and does he call his trade to each? Dear friend he is not to be dwelt upon for it is by just such wise that he's invited in

Dread of night. Dread of not-night.

The most terrifying thing I can think of is being alone - and I mean utterly alone, like no one else in the world alone - at night. That's the nucleus of the first story in my collection and it's also where the title came from for the book.

I don't like the dark. I really am afraid of the dark.

See you in the darkness.

We are readying ourselves to enter a long tunnel full of blood and darkness.

Even the sheep are afraid of me.

No one but Night, with tears on her dark face, watches beside me in this windy place.

Those who cannot be aggressive are hunted down while they shiver and hide because the night is dark.

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

Once a month I wake in the night, slippery with terror. I'm afraid, not because there's someone in the room, in the dark, in the bed, but because there isn't. I'm afraid of the emptiness, which lies beside me like a corpse.

More than fear of loving bears or birds bigger than cows, I fear pathless nights. How, I wonder, can I find you in the dark?

At two o'clock in the morning, if you open your window and listen, You will hear the feet of the Wind that is going to call the sun. And the trees in the Shadow rustle and the trees in the moonlight glisten, And though it is deep, dark night, you feel that the night is done.

For in the night, unseen, a single warrior, In sombre harness mailed, Dreaded of man, and surnamed the Destroyer, The rampart wall has scaled. He passed into the chamber of the sleeper, The dark and silent room, And as he entered, darker grew, and deeper, The silence and the gloom.

Leave me in the night but please don't leave me in the dark

There was a hand in the darkness, and it held a knife.

I'm alone, stumbling through the city in the dark, trying not to let the night freeze my blood.

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.

The candle flame gutters. Its little pool of light trembles. Darkness gathers. The demons begin to stir.

And whiter grows the foam, The small moon lightens more; And as I turn me home, My shadow walks before.