The night sky is only a sort of carbon paper, Blueblack, with the much-poked periods of stars Letting in the light, peephole after peephole--- A bonewhite light, like death, behind all things.
Thus fortified I might take my rest in peace. But dreams come through stone walls, light up dark rooms, or darken light ones, and their persons make their exists and their entrances as they please, and laugh at locksmiths.
What if it's the there and not the here that I long for? The wander and not the wait, the magic in the lost feet stumbling down the faraway street and the way the moon never hangs quite the same.
At one moment, his eyes sparkled in the light and in the next they were enshrouded in shadow. What connected those bands of light and dark? Could they indeed have been distinct entities?
If I had to choose a moment in time when I knew my life would be different going forward—when I knew I would be different—this would be it.
Recently I've been dreaming of cursing old people with little provocation, because their culture has a long history of enslaving, raping, and segregating, and they have special lights which prevent us from dancing.
Chief Superintendent Arnot might hold power, but Armand Gamache was the more powerful man.
And in the evening After the fire and the light One thing is certain: Nothing can hold back the light Time is relentless And as the past disappears We're on the verge of all things new
Beyond the veil of suffering is a light that shines bright in every one of us. One does not need glasses to see that light, just compassion
A part of me sought the light in all the people I knew, but with the Shadows, it was like bringing them back from a subterfuge comma. Literally tearing the veil of blackness down and showing them the luminescence of light.
----quick-witted, an open book in her lap; inside her chest pulses something huge, something full of longing, something unafraid.
That something so small could be so beautiful. Worth so much. Only the strongest people can turn away from feelings like that.
There are, he assures her, no such things as curses. There is luck, maybe, bad or good. A slight inclination of each day towards success or failure. But no curses.
It was then, there in the darkness, with only those little pin-points of light to see by, light from a world away where other people with their own problems and their own secrets lived their own lives, that everything in our world changed for good.
the fact that there was this capacity even in a paranoiac for intelligence, even in a devil worshipper for love; the fact that the ground of all being could be totally manifest in a flowering shrub, a human face; the fact that there was a light and t...
He felt the comfort of being part of an eternal cycle symbolized by the gold strips on either side of the black mourning band he wore. Light, dark, light. The dark was just an interval.
Men started praying to you, begging for a taste. That legend of yours spiraled out of control. You gave the people hope. They were told you were all they ever needed.
To be terrified and yet unafraid seems a great paradox of worship, but when one has tasted it, the notion of an eternity spent terrifyingly unafraid like that is remarkably appetizing.
It has been a marvellous age of invention: radio, aeroplane, electric light, the telephone, and fellatio.
A stray fact: insects are not drawn to candle flames, they are drawn to the light on the far side of the flame, they go into the flame and sizzle to nothingness because they're so eager to get to the light on the other side.
We can't find the cat, We don't know where she's at, Oh, where did she go? Does anyone know? Let's ask this walking hat.
