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And the night shall be filled with music and the cares, that infest the day, Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs, And as silently steal away.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882)
When man reassembles his fragmentary self and grows with the calm of a tree.
Antoine de Saint Exupery (1900-1944) French aviator, writer.
For the night Shows stars and women in a better light.
Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet.
In a real dark night of the soul it is always three O’clock in the morning.
F.Scott Fitzgerald (1896-1940) American author.
The day is done, and darkness falls from the wings of night.
Longfellow.
Earth, turning, from the sun. brings night to man.
Young.
In her starry shade of dim and solitary loveliness, I learn the language of another world.
Byron.
This sacred shade and solitude, what is it? It is the felt presence of the Deity. Few are the faults we flatter when alone; vice sinks in her allurements, in ungilt, and looks, like other objects, black by night. By night an atheist half believes a God.
Young.
The night is made for tenderness so still that the low whisper, scarcely audible, is heard like music, and so deeply pure that the fond thought is chastened as it springs and on the lip is made holy.
N.P.Willis.
The contemplation of night should lead to elevating rather than to depressing ideas. Who can fix his mind on transitory and earthly things, in presence of those glittering myriads of worlds; and who can dread death or solitude in the midst of this brilliant, animated universe, composed of countless suns and worlds, all full of light and life and motion?
Richter.
Night’s silent reign had robbed the world of light, to lend, in lieu, a greater benefit, repose and sleep, when every mortal whom care or grief permitted, took their rest.
Thomas May.
Why does the evening, why does the night, put warmer love in our hearts? Is it the nightly pressure of helplessness? Or is it the exalting separation from the turmoils of life, that veiling of the world in which, for the soul, nothing remains but souls?
Richter.
Wisdom mounts her zenith with the stars.
Mrs. Barbauld.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882)
When man reassembles his fragmentary self and grows with the calm of a tree.
Antoine de Saint Exupery (1900-1944) French aviator, writer.
For the night Shows stars and women in a better light.
Lord Byron (1788-1824) English poet.
In a real dark night of the soul it is always three O’clock in the morning.
F.Scott Fitzgerald (1896-1940) American author.
The day is done, and darkness falls from the wings of night.
Longfellow.
Earth, turning, from the sun. brings night to man.
Young.
In her starry shade of dim and solitary loveliness, I learn the language of another world.
Byron.
This sacred shade and solitude, what is it? It is the felt presence of the Deity. Few are the faults we flatter when alone; vice sinks in her allurements, in ungilt, and looks, like other objects, black by night. By night an atheist half believes a God.
Young.
The night is made for tenderness so still that the low whisper, scarcely audible, is heard like music, and so deeply pure that the fond thought is chastened as it springs and on the lip is made holy.
N.P.Willis.
The contemplation of night should lead to elevating rather than to depressing ideas. Who can fix his mind on transitory and earthly things, in presence of those glittering myriads of worlds; and who can dread death or solitude in the midst of this brilliant, animated universe, composed of countless suns and worlds, all full of light and life and motion?
Richter.
Night’s silent reign had robbed the world of light, to lend, in lieu, a greater benefit, repose and sleep, when every mortal whom care or grief permitted, took their rest.
Thomas May.
Why does the evening, why does the night, put warmer love in our hearts? Is it the nightly pressure of helplessness? Or is it the exalting separation from the turmoils of life, that veiling of the world in which, for the soul, nothing remains but souls?
Richter.
Wisdom mounts her zenith with the stars.
Mrs. Barbauld.
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