Against a dark sky, all flowers look like fireworks.— Gilbert K. Chesterton
Useful Dark Sky quotations
I know you think this world is too dark to even dream in color, but I’ve seen flowers bloom at midnight. I’ve seen kites fly in gray skies and they were real close to looking like the sunrise, and sometime it takes the most wounded wings the most broken things to notice how strong the breeze is, how precious the flight.
The offing was barred by a black bank of clouds, and the tranquil water-way leading to the uttermost ends of the earth flowed somber under an overcast sky--seemed to lead into the heart of an immense darkness.
True love is night jasmine, a diamond in darkness, the heartbeat no cardiologist has ever heard. It is the most common of miracles, fashioned of fleecy clouds -- a handful of stars tossed into the night sky.
The first time I ever saw your face, I thought the sun rose in your eyes and the moon and the stars were the gifts you gave to the dark and empty sky, my love.
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.
She says nothing at all, but simply stares upward into the dark sky and watches, with sad eyes, the slow dance of the infinite stars.
We shall go wild with fireworks...And they will plunge into the sky and shatter the darkness. We don't have any fireworks that big
She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that's best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes.
If we look on idly, heaven and earth will never be joined.
To join heaven and earth, some decisive deed of purity is necessary. To accomplish so resolute an action, you have to stake your life, giving no thought to personal gain or loss.
Superstition! that horrid incubus which dwelt in darkness, shunning the light, with all its racks, and poison chalices, and foul sleeping draughts, is passing away without return. Religion cannot pass away. The burning of a little straw may hide the stars of the sky; but the stars are there and will reappear.
A child's fear is a world whose dark corners are quite unknown to grownup people; it has its sky and its abysses, a sky without stars, abysses into which no light can ever penetrate.
Nothing beats a haunted moonlit night on All Hallows Eve.
... And on this fatal night, at this witching time, the starless sky laments black and unmoving. The somber hues of an ominous, dark forest are suddenly illuminated under the emerging face of the full moon.
How fragile we are under the sheltering sky.
Behind the sheltering sky is a vast dark universe, and we're just so small.
When you walk through the storm, hold your head high And don't be afraid of the dark! At the end of the storm is a golden sky And the sweet song of the lark. Walk on through the wind Walk on through the rain Though your dreams be tossed & blown Walk on, walk on, with hope in your heart And you'll never walk alone!
I see trees of green, red roses too. I see them bloom for me and you. And I think to myself what a wonderful world. I see skies of blue and clouds of white. The bright blessed day, the dark sacred night. And I think to myself what a wonderful world
It is one of the secrets of Nature in its mood of mockery that fine weather lays heavier weight on the mind and hearts of the depressed and the inwardly tormented than does a really bad day with dark rain sniveling continuously and sympathetically from a dirty sky.
There were hints of sunrise on the rim of the sky, yet it was still dark, and the traces of morning color were like goldfish swimming in ink.
Far clouds of feathery gold, Shaded with deepest purple, gleam Like islands on a dark blue sea.
Only in silence the word, only in dark the light, only in dying life: bright the hawk's flight on the empty sky.
A black star appears, a point of darkness in the night sky's clarity.
Point of darkness and gateway to repose. Reach out, pierce the fine fabric of the sheltering sky, take repose.
Scrape the grey sky clean, realize that every dark cloud is a smokescreen meant to blind us from the truth
I'll always want him. Until every sun goes dark in every sky, until I am nothing more than long-forgotten cosmic dust, I will want him. And even then I suspect my particles will long for his.
Dark economic clouds are dissipating into an emerging blue sky of opportunity.
Against a dark sky all flowers look like fireworks.
There is something strange about them, at once vivid and secret, like flowers traced in fire in the phantasmal garden of a witch.
We have been travelling through a cloud. The sky has been dark ever since the war began.
Earthbound souls know only the underside of the atmosphere in which they live .
. . but go higher - above the dust and water vapor - and the sky turns dark until one can see the stars at noon.
I have long thought that anyone who does not regularly - or ever - gaze up and see the wonder and glory of a dark night sky filled with countless stars loses a sense of their fundamental connectedness to the universe.
Earthly joy can take but a bat-like flight, always checked, always limited, in dusk and darkness. But the love of Christ breaks through the vaulting, and leads us up into the free sky above, expanding to the very throne of Jehovah, and drawing us still upward to the infinite heights of glory.
A weakened mind always sees everything through a black veil.
The soul makes its own horizons; your soul is dark, which is why you see such a cloudy sky.
When a strong wind blows, the clouds vanish and blue sky appears.
Similarly, when the powerful wisdom that understand the nature of the mind arises, the dark clouds of ego disappear.
With rushing winds and gloomy skies The dark and stubborn Winter dies: Far-off, unseen, Spring faintly cries, Bidding her earliest child arise; March!
I suppose there were moonless nights and dark ones with but a silver shaving and pale stars in the sky, but I remember them all as flooded with the rich indolence of a full moon.
This house has been far out at sea all night, The woods crashing through darkness, the booming hills, Winds stampeding the fields under the window Floundering black astride and blinding wet Till day rose; then under an orange sky The hills had new places, and wind wielded Blade-light, luminous black and emerald, Flexing like the lens of a mad eye.
The sky was dark and gloomy, the air was damp and raw, the streets were wet and sloppy. The smoke hung sluggishly above the chimney-tops as if it lacked the courage to rise, and the rain came slowly and doggedly down, as if it had not even the spirit to pour.