I like the night. Without the dark, we'd never see the stars.
Everyone wants to understand art. Why don't we try to understand the song of a bird? Why do we love the night, the flowers, everything around us, without trying to understand them? But in the case of a painting, people think they have to understand.
The night whose sable breast relieves the stark, White stars, is no less lovely being dark
They say night's beauties fade at dawn, and the children of wine are oft disowned in the morning light.
One could not count the moons that shimmer on her roofs, Or the thousand splendid suns that hide behind her walls.
The healing of the world is in its nameless saints. Each separate star seems nothing, but a myriad scattered stars break up the night and make it beautiful.
Night is beautiful when you are happy--comforting when you are in grief--terrible when you are lonely and unhappy.
Here in this moment we are beautiful, nocturnal creatures and our thoughts and words are jewels guarded by the moon.
