Howard Thurman 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.

The evening sings in a voice of amber, the dawn is surely coming.

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

Why is it called 'after dark' when it really is 'after light'?

Fading light buttered the ridges until shadows licked them clean and they were lost to nightfall.

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

It's the hour when night breaks away from the day, my dove, let me go.

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

The whole of the day should not be daytime; there should be one hour, if not more, which the day did not bring forth.

When you get up, the night and day is a contradiction. But you get up at 4 a.m. — that first blush of blue is where the night and day are trying to find harmony with each other.

I am going to notice the lights of the earth, the sun and the moon and the stars, the lights of our candles as we march, the lights with which spring teases us, the light that is already present.

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

I've been present at birth, and death is just as present and in equal balance. And I've been present at death, and birth is just as present, again in equal balance.

Even though it was six o'clock, there was no sense of approaching dawn.

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.

...she woke up in time to see the sun sending up spies ahead of him to mark out the road through the dark. He peeped up over the door sill of the world and made a little foolishness with red.

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.

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

Dawn comes slowly but dusk is rapid.

Night wasn't so much falling as sharpening its claws.

What breaks in daybreak? Is it the night? Is it the sun, cracked in two by the horizon like an egg, spilling out light?

The sun was set; the night came on apace, And falling dews bewet around the place; The bat takes airy rounds on leathern wings, And the hoarse owl his woeful dirges sings.

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.