I need to call it a night. But only because I don’t know what else to call it. What’s in between evening and morning?
Nothing worse than someone who goes to the dance, is excited to dance, dances all night, and then complains all the next day about his feet being sore.
As the sky faded to night, her anger dissipated—but not in a healing way, just dulled, like forged iron sizzling in a cold pail of water.
As she’d walked along this street, a million stars stretched across an indigo canvas, holding all the freedom she’d yearned for every night.
Everything was an adventure, at night, when you were where you shouldn't be, even if it was somwhere you could go perfectly well in daylight, and it was then only ordinary.
I get that. For you, it’s more than following a bunch of rules—no sex, no booze, no swear words, pray every night and twice on Sunday.
I wanna explore your body. I wanna kiss my way up and down it all night long.
The night was white-blind with fog, and Kate staggered over every stone and stumbled in every puddle, but she pushed on as fast as she could.
I guess I can't blame him for feeling bitter. Going from being the terror of Bulgarian nights to a janitor would kinda suck
It was a good apple too. A good apple, picked by a madman on a full moon night.
I’ve always loved the night, when everyone else is asleep and the world is all mine. It’s quiet and dark—the perfect time for creativity.
On Friday night, I was reading my new book, but my brain got tired, so I decided to watch some television instead.
If that was the last event of the night, it would have made a terrible ending. It was just the beginning, though.
What he could bear in the waking world he could not by night and he sat awake for fear the dream would return.
The last night of retreat, after Mass, the hundreds of them sat by candlelight in the huge gymnasium. It smelled like incense and whatever hope was made out of.
Well, God give them wisdom that have it; and those that are fools, let them use their talents.
New friends can often have a better time together than old friends.
He’d pushed it back, where he’d kept the thought for weeks, but it wouldn’t stay. Wouldn’t stop. Wouldn’t let him go.
He was in love with every pretty woman he saw now, their forms at a distance, their shadows on the walls.
The unwelcome November rain had perversely stolen the day's last hour and pawned it with that ancient fence, the night.
There’s a lot of June birthdays in June. There’s also a few in May and July. Reminds me of that one night with April. That was a long month.
