Mortals were such fickle creatures. They called into the dark, demanded answers and attention from forces they could not comprehend, and yet when they had that attention and those answers, they complained about them.
In the dark, I seem to stretch. Without a body to witness, I grow and grow with my pleasure. I feel like a constellation, a concept hung on a scattering of stars.
It’s dark at night, yet people still drive. So I don’t see why people get so upset that I drive blindfolded during the day.
My life story is too long to tweet. Too long by two characters—and by characters I don’t mean Dora J. Arod and Dark Jar Tin Zoo.
This night felt like a last hurrah, like we could blaze our brightest, at the apex of our insane adolescence. This was our Mardi Gras before the dark days of Lent.
At times everything grows misty and dark before my eyes, and I feel that the strength of my whole body is oozing away through my finger tips.
The sunlight blinded her. She felt purified by its rays. She had been in the dark for so long, and in so many ways.☥ Children of Ankh series
The autumn twilight turned into deep and early night as they walked. Tristran could smell the distant winter on the air--a mixture of night-mist and crisp darkness and the tang of fallen leaves.
I’m not sure. But – unless I’m struggling with the darkness within – I like to sustain the illusion that death is actually much further from me than it really is.
I was wrenched awake at the tail-end of a stifled scream. I fought my way up from a deep dark dream. The scream had been mine.
Outside, the sun shines. Inside, there’s only darkness. The blackness is hard to describe, as it’s more than symptoms. It’s a nothing that becomes everything there is. And what one sees is only a fraction of the trauma inflicted.
Shakespeare's Iago could be played as a soul in hell, driven, dark and desperate, willing to do anything, willing to use anyone, in order to escape from that hell.
The world is dark, and light is precious. Come closer, dear reader. You must trust me. I am telling you a story.
No one realized that, being left out in the cold, I was also very much in the dark.
Shit," Drake rubbed a hand over his face. Shit, shit, shit... "Shit," Drake said again.... "That about sums it up," Gabriel muttered.
(In my sleep I dreamed this poem) Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness. It took me years to understand that this, too, was a gift.
The light lulls you into a false sense of security. But if the dark should come suddenly and silently, you’d stand out like black on night.
Once I knew the depth where no hope was, and darkness lay on the face of all things. Then love came and set my soul free.
Did we not look out together upon the dark waters of the lake And behold there the constellations Of both hemispheres at once? -Love Songs of the Cinnamon Wastes
I shot through my twenties like a luminous thread through a dark needle, blazing toward my destination: Nowhere.
Mackenzie glanced through the glass doors. It was dark outside, except for the dim light from the front entrance. A night breeze swooshed leaves throughout the parking lot.
