Top Dusk Quotes

Browse top 222 famous quotes and sayings about Dusk by most favorite authors.

Favorite Dusk Quotes

101. "So this was betrayal. It was like being left alone in the desert at dusk without water or warmth. It left your mouth dry and will broken. It sapped your tears and made you hollow."
Author: Anna Godbersen
102. "There is no dusk to be, There is no dawn that was, Only there's now, and now, And the wind in the grass."
Author: Archibald MacLeish
103. "Sometimes after dinner, he would walk into the woods that began behind the house. He would stretch down on the ground on his stomach, his elbows, planted before him, his hands propping his chin and he would watch the patterns of veins on the green blades of grass under his face, he would blow at them and watch the blades tremble then stop again. He would roll over on his back and lie still, feeling the warmth of the earth under him. Far above, the leaves were still green as if the color were condensed in the last effort before the dusk coming to dissolve it. The leaves hung without motion against a sky of polished lemon yellow, its luminous pallor emphasized that its light was failing. He pressed his hips, his back into the earth under him, the earth resisted, but it gave way; it was a silent victory; he felt a dim, sensuous pleasure in the muscles of his legs."
Author: Ayn Rand
104. "If you are in the mountains alone for some time, many days at minimum, & it helps if you are fasting. The forest grows tired of its weariness towards you; it resumes its inner life and allows you to see it. Near dusk the faces in tree bark cease hiding, and stare out at you. The welcoming ones and also the malevolent, open in their curiosity. In your camp at night you are able to pick out a distinct word now and then from the muddled voices in creek water, sometimes an entire sentence of deep import. The ghosts of animals reveal themselves to you without prejudice to your humanity. You see them receding before you as you walk the trail their shapes beautiful and sad."
Author: Charles Frazier
105. "A good day is one where I can not just read a book, but write a review of it. Maybe today I'll be able to do that. I get for some reason somewhat stronger when the sun starts to go down. Dusk is a good time for me. I'm crepuscular."
Author: Christopher Hitchens
106. "The dust the party raised was quickly dispersed and lost in the immensity of that landscape and there was no dust other for the pale sutler who pursued them drives unseen and his lean horse and his lean cart leave no track upon such ground or any ground. By a thousand fires in the iron blue dusk he keeps his commissary and he's a wry and grinning tradesman good to follow every campaign or hound men from their holds in just those whited regions where they've gone to hide from God."
Author: Cormac McCarthy
107. "The crumpled butcherpaper mountains lay in sharp shadowfold under the long blue dusk and in the middle distance the glazed bed of a dry lake lay shimmering like the mare imbrium and herds of deer were moving north in the last of the twilight, harried over the plain by wolves who were themselves the color of the desert floor."
Author: Cormac McCarthy
108. "You said I was your number-one pick.""And you are. In our hearts. Alphabetically, though, Dusk comes before you."
Author: Derek Landy
109. "Her hair gives dawn it's fire, her eyes give dusk her soul"He knew how to use his voice to melt a girl's heart, to make a girl want to believe. I steeled myself against the seductive words. "Excuse me?" "It's a line of poetry describing a beautiful girl, one who doesn't seem to know it."
Author: Elizabeth Chandler
110. "How the unforgettable faces of dusk would blend to her, the myriad footsteps, a thousand overtures, would blend to her footsteps; and there would be more drunkenness than wine in the softness of her eyes on his."
Author: F. Scott Fitzgerald
111. "At dusk a broken wheel appeared, Held by a hand I could not see, And I knew that someone I feared, Had discovered an empty room in me" ~ 1951"
Author: Gavin Maxwell
112. "I know something of shame...How can we not all feel it? We are all small-minded people, creeping about the earth grubbing for our own adventure and making the very mistakes for which we want to humiliate our neighbors......I think we wake up every day with high intentions and by dusk we have routinely fallen short. Sometimes I think God created the darkness just so he didn't have to look at us all the time." Major Pettigrew"
Author: Helen Simonson
113. "It had begun to be present to him after the first fortnight, it had broken out with the oddest abruptness, this particular wanton wonderment: it met him there--and this was the image under which he himself judged the matter, or at least, not a little, thrilled and flushed with it--very much as he might have been met by some strange figure, some unexpected occupant, at a turn of one of the dim passages of an empty house. The quaint analogy quite hauntingly remained with him, when he didn't indeed rather improve it by a still intenser form: that of his opening a door behind which he would have made sure of finding nothing, a door into a room shuttered and void, and yet so coming, with a great suppressed start, on some quite erect confronting presence, something planted in the middle of the place and facing him through the dusk."
Author: Henry James
114. "But the recurrent ambiguity of the American tale of the supernatural reveals both a fascination with the possibility of numinous experience and a perplexity about whether there was, in fact, anything numinous to be experienced. Writers often delighted in leading readers into, but not out of, the haunted dusk of the borderland."
Author: Howard Kerr
115. "WAKING AT NIGHTThe blue river is grey at morningand evening. There is twilightat dawn and dusk. I lie in the darkwondering if this quiet in me nowis a beginning or an end."
Author: Jack Gilbert
116. "Dad called this the shadow time. The sun sucks colour from the world, he'd said. He'd taught her to see the softer colours of the dusk, the green and orange bark, the purple shadows. At times like this Flinty felt her edges vanish, leaving her part of the mountains, like the wallaby pulling wonga vine down from a thorn bush, or the sleepy possum peering from a tree."
Author: Jackie French
117. "All day the blanket snapped and swelledon the line, roused by a hot spring wind....From there it witnessed the first sparrow,early flies lifting their sticky feet,and a green haze on the south-sloping hills.Clouds rose over the mountain....At duskI took the blanket in, and we slept,restless, under its fragrant weight."
Author: Jane Kenyon
118. "Our troubles are but mayflies, rising and falling between the turn of dawn and dusk. And then they are gone to the houses of memory, you and I will remain, Yukiko."
Author: Jay Kristoff
119. "...when evening fell and the grey twilight spread its dusky robe upon the waters, she stretched her arms out to the silent river that had known her sorrow and her joy. And the old river had taken her into its gentle arms, and had laid her weary head upon its bosom, and had hushed away the pain."
Author: Jerome K. Jerome
120. "A large drop of sun lingered on the horizon and then dripped over and was gone, and the sky was brilliant over the spot where it had gone, and a torn cloud, like a bloody rag, hung over the spot of its going. And dusk crept over the sky from the eastern horizon, and darkness crept over the land from the east."
Author: John Steinbeck
121. "Dusk falls. There is nothing gentle about the sky."
Author: Juan Ramón Jiménez
122. "She could see Sylvie and her friends on the lawn below, their dresses fluttering like moths in the encroaching dusk."
Author: Kate Atkinson
123. "She went and stood at an open window and looked out upon the deep tangle of the garden below. All the mystery and witchery of the night seemed to have gathered there amid the perfumes and the dusky and torturous outlines of flowers and foliage. She was seeking herself and finding herself in just such sweet, half-darkness which met her moods. But the voices were not soothing that came to her from the darkness and the sky above and the stars. They jeered and sounded mournful notes without promise, devoid even of hope."
Author: Kate Chopin
124. "Snow falls, dusk descends,a holy quiet blankets all things in a silent prayer"
Author: Kate Mullane Robertson
125. "Courage~ What makes the flag on the mast to wave? What makes the elephant charge his tusk in the misty mist, or the dusky dusk? What makes the muskrat guard his musk? Courage! What makes the sphinx the seventh wonder? Courage! What makes the dawn come up like thunder? Courage! What makes the Hottentot so hot? What puts the "ape" in apricot?~Cowardly Lion from the Wizard of Oz"
Author: L. Frank Baum
126. "The wind was off shore, and only broke the sea's surface in to long, silvery ripples, and sent sheeny shadows flying out across it, from every point and headland, like transparent wings. The dusk was hanging a curtain of violet gloom over the sand-dunes and the headlands where gulls were huddling. The sky was faintly filmed over with scarfs of silken vapor. Cloud fleets rode at anchor along the horizons. An evening star was watching over the bar."
Author: L.M. Montgomery
127. "Why did dusk and fir-scent and the afterglow of autumnal sunsets make people say absurd things?"
Author: L.M. Montgomery
128. "A hundred years or more, she's bent her crownin storm, in sun, in moonsplashed midnight breeze.surviving all the random vagariesof this harsh world. A dense - twigged veil drifts downfrom crown along her trunk - mourning slow woodthat rustles tattered, in a hint of windthis January dusk, cloudy, purplingthe ground with sudden shadows. How she broods -you speculate - on dark surprise and loss,alone these many years, despondent, bent,her bolt-cracked mate transformed to splinters, moss.Though not alone, you feel the sadness of atwilight breeze. There's never enough love;the widow nods to you. Her branches moan."
Author: Lauren Lipton
129. "Things are either devolving toward, or evolving from, nothingness. As dusk approaches in the hinterlands, a traveler ponders shelter for the night. He notices tall rushes growing everywhere, so he bundles an armful together as they stand in the field, and knots them at the top. Presto, a living grass hut. The next morning, before embarking on another day's journey, he unknots the rushes and presto, the hut de-constructs, disappears, and becomes a virtually indistinguishable part of the larger field of rushes once again. The original wilderness seems to be restored, but minute traces of the shelter remain. A slight twist or bend in a reed here and there. There is also the memory of the hut in the mind of the traveler — and in the mind of the reader reading this description. Wabi-sabi, in its purest, most idealized form, is precisely about these delicate traces, this faint evidence, at the borders of nothingness."
Author: Leonard Koren
130. "I was a shadow among shadows brooding over the fate of other shadows that I alone strove to summon up out of the all-pervading dusk."
Author: Loren Eiseley
131. "Tonight - I am alone in the night,a homeless and sleepless nun!Tonight I hold all the keys to thisthe only capital cityand lack of sleep guides me on my path.You are so lovely, my dusky Kremlin!Tonight I put my lips to the breastof the whole round and warring earth.Now I feel hair - like fur - standing on end:the stifling winds blow straight into my soul.Tonight I feel compassion for everyone,those who are pitied, along with those who are kissed."
Author: Marina Tsvetaeva
132. "You do somethin' for me? Go tell Twink I'll meet her at the old grove Tuesday about dusk-dark."Jody was frozen.He burst out, "I won't do it. I hate her. Ol' yellow-headed somethin'."
Author: Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings
133. "And did I pass?" The face of the old woman on my right was unreadable in the gathering dusk. On my left the younger woman said, "You don't pass or fail at being a person, dear."
Author: Neil Gaiman
134. "I will write in words of fire.I will write them on your skin.I will write about desire.Write beginnings, write of sin.You're the book I love the best,your skin only holds my truth, you will be a palimpsest lines of age rewriting youth. You will not burn upon the pyre. Or be buried on the shelf. You're my letter to desire: And you'll never read yourself. I will trace each word and comma As the final dusk descends, You're my tale of dreams and drama, Let us find out how it ends."
Author: Neil Gaiman
135. "With a starry brush, paint the dusk Venetian blue"
Author: Owl City
136. "The desert landscape is always at its best in the half-light of dawn or dusk. The sense of distance lacks: a ridge nearby can be a far-off mountain range, each small detail can take on the importance of a major variant on the countryside's repetitious theme. The coming of day promises a change; it is only when the day had fully arrived that the watcher suspects it is the same day returned once again--the same day he has been living for a long time, over and over, still blindingly bright and untarnished by time."
Author: Paul Bowles
137. "I left the bed as she had left it, unmade and rumpled, coverlets awry, so that her body's print might rest still warm beside my own.Until the next day I did not go to bathe, I wore no clothes and did not dress my hair, for fear I might erase some sweet caress.That morning I did not eat, nor yet at dusk, and put no rouge nor powder on my lips, so that her kiss might cling a little longer.I left the shutters closed, and did not open the door, for fear the memory of the night before might vanish with the wind."
Author: Pierre Louÿs
138. "At this slower pace the journey took a couple of days, and I fought off a few minor threats along the way --griffins, carnivorous plants, giant serpents, hostile centaurs, that sort of thing, purely routine --and I was beginning to get bored when at last the dusky towers of Castle Roogna hove into view."
Author: Piers Anthony
139. "Or I would be the rain itself, wreathing over the island, mingling in the quiet of moist places, filling its pores with its saturated breaths. And I would be the wind, whispering through the tangled woods, running airy fingers over the island's face, tingling in the chill of concealed places, sighing secrets in the dawn. And I would be the light, flinging over the island, covering it with flash and shadow, shining on rocks and pools, softening to a touch in the glow of dusk. If I were the rain and wind and light, I would encircle the island like the sky surrounding earth, flood through it like a heart driven pulse, shine from inside it like a star in flames, burn away to blackness in the closed eyes of its night. There are so many ways I could love this island, if I were the rain."
Author: Richard Nelson
140. "A man could rant and smash and grapple with the State Police, and still the sprinklers whirled at dusk on every lawn and the television droned in every living room."
Author: Richard Yates
141. "A HaltLie still, my soul, the Sun of GraceIs warm within this garden spaceBeneath tall kindly trees.The quiet light is green and fair;A fragrance fills the swooning air;Lie still, and take thine ease.This silent noon of Jesu's loveIs warm about thee and above-A tender Lord is He.Lie still an hour- this place is HisHe has a thousand pleasaunces,And each all fair and fragrant is,And each is all for thee.Then, Jesu, for a little spaceI rest me in this garden place,All sweet to scent and sight.Here, from this high-road scarce withdrawn,I thrust my hot hands in the lawnCool yet with dew of far-off dawnAnd saturate with light.But ah, dear Saviour, human-wise,I yearn to pierce all mysteries,To catch Thine Hands and see Thine EyesWhen evening sounds begin.There, in Thy white Robe, Thou wilt waitAt dusk beside some orchard gate,And smile to see me come so late,And, smiling, call me in."
Author: Robert Hugh Benson
142. "There's something about a humid, dusky evening that's kind of sexy."
Author: Sam Trammell
143. "You've found that there is something that can make you feel, and make you feel present: sex. Not the routine, dusk-and-dawn sex of a trusted, established relationship, but illicit, dangerous sex. Sex that is novel and leaves you sore; that is experienced in the gaps between your mundane, moral life; that is strange and breathless and addictive."
Author: Sarah Hall
144. "Asleep by the SmithsVapour Trail by RideScarborough Fair by Simon & GarfunkelA Whiter Shade of Pale by Procol HarumDear Prudence by the BeatlesGypsy by Suzanne VegaNights in White Satin by the Moody BluesDaydream by Smashing PumpkinsDusk by Genesis (before Phil Collins was even in the band!)MLK by U2Blackbird by the BeatlesLandslide by Fleetwood MacAsleep by the Smiths (again!)-Charlie's mixtape"
Author: Stephen Chbosky
145. "Mazie sits with a sense of non-being over her – of it being someone other than she sitting there timeless, suspended in a dusky room, feeling a voice gathering around her, kind still hands of sound flaring into words meaningless and strange, meaningless when one tries to understand, but meaningful for a fleeting second."
Author: Tillie Olsen
146. "For a long while- for many years, in fact- he had not thought of how it was before he came to the farm. His memory of those times was like a house where no one lives and where the furniture has rotted away. But tonight it was as if lamps had been lighted through all the gloomy dead rooms. It had begun to happen when he saw Tico Feo coming through the dusk with his splendid guitar. Until that moment he had not been lonesome. Now, recognizing his loneliness, he felt alive. He had not wanted to be alive. To be alive was to remember brown rivers where the fish run, and sunlight on a lady's hair."
Author: Truman Capote
147. "Why, from the very windows, even in the dusk, you see a swelling run through the street, an aspiration, as with arms outstretched, eyes desiring, mouths agape. And then we peaceably subside. For if the exaltation lasted we should be blown like foam into the air. The stars would shine through us. We should go down the gale in salt drops- as sometimes happens. For the impetuous spirits will have none of this cradling. Never any swaying or aimlessly lolling for them. Never any making believe, or lying cosily, or genially supposing that one is much like another, fire warm, wine pleasant, extravagance a sin."
Author: Virginia Woolf
148. "He got out of bed and peeped through the blinds. To the east and opposite to him gardens and an apple-orchard lay, and there in strange liquid tranquility hung the morning star, and rose, rilling into the dusk of night the first grey of dawn. The street beneath its autumn leaves was vacant, charmed, deserted."
Author: Walter De La Mare
149. "I could smell the curves of the river beyond the dusk and I saw the last light supine and tranquil upon tideflats like pieces of broken mirror, then beyond them lights began in the pale clear air, trembling a little like butterflies hovering a long way off."
Author: William Faulkner
150. "Something in me vibrates to a dusky, dreamy smell of dying moons and shadows."
Author: Zelda Fitzgerald

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In the vocabulary of certain radical theorists contradictions are given the status of some deadly disease to which their opponents alone can succumb. But contradictions are the very stuff of life. If there had been a little dash of contradiction among the Gadarene swine some of them might have been saved from drowning."
Author: Chinua Achebe

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