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Midnight Quotes

Browse 538 quotes about Midnight.

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Midnight Quotes

“I won't give in to despair while stars are beautiful in the night sky and know we cannot leave here while it is always midnight, and there is only that hope that we grasped and pulled down from these skies. Here where it is midnight we cling to the play of children lining up little tiny drops of joy, small shimmers we hap to wish upon for two blooms in spring, three sparrows to sing to me, and four kisses in the sudden flash of summer.”

HopeDespairMidnightTwo Three And Four
Book:The Bones of the Poor
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“When you left you left behind a field of silent flowers under a sky full of unstirred clouds...you left a million butterflies mid-silky flutters You left like midnight rain against my dreaming ears Oh and how you left leaving my coffee scentless and my couch comfortless leaving upon my fingers the melting snow of you you left behind a calendar full of empty days and seasons full of aimless wanders leaving me alone with an armful of sunsets your reflection behind in every puddle your whispers upon every curtain your fragrance inside every petal you left your echoes in between the silence of my eyes Oh and how you left leaving my sands footless and my shores songless leaving me with windows full of moistened moonlight nights and nights of only a half-warmed soul and when you left... you left behind a lifetime of moments untouched the light of a million stars unshed and when you left you somehow left my poem...unfinished. (Published in Taj Mahal Review Vol.11 Number 1 June 2012)”

WritingPainPoetryLossLove QuotesSilenceSadnessEmotionalPoemRainSilentLeavingPoetry QuotesPoemsMidnightUnfinishedIndian AuthorsFree VerseWhispersShores
Author:Sanober Khan
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“MOTHER TIME: Life goes by so very fast, my dears, and taking the time to reflect, even once a year, slows things down. We zoom past so many seconds, minutes, hours, killing them with the frantic way we live that it's important we take at least this one collective sigh and stop, take stock, and acknowledge our place in time before diving back into the melee. Midnight on New Year's Eve is a unique kind of magic where, just for a moment, the past and the future exist at once in the present. Whether we're aware of it or not, as we countdown together to it, we're sharing the burden of our history and committing to the promise of tomorrow.”

LifeTimeMagicTomorrowTraditionBusyGoalsYesterdayHolidayNew YearMidnightThe PastNew Years EveTraditionsResolutionsBeing BusyNew Year S ResolutionsThe PresentNew YearsSlowing DownNew Year S EveNew Year STaking Stock
Book:New Year's Thieve
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“He kissed my mitten. “Then we’ll get you to New York,” he said. He described Manhattan as an epicenter of creativity, a midnight tar-paved island where the young artists of the world go to pursue themselves. Listening, growing warmer, I peered up through the tent’s mesh roof at faraway stars, faint glitter, giddy.”

StarsCreativityNew YorkNew York CityMidnightArtistsManhattanCampingArtists LifeTent
Book:Your Blue Is Not My Blue: A Missing Person Memoir
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“Let's just enjoy it for ourselves. Dawn is such a private hour, don't you think? Such a solitary hour. One always hears that said of midnight, but I think of midnight as remarkably companionable—everyone together, sleeping in the dark.' 'I am afraid I am interrupting your solitude,' Anna said. 'No, no,' the boy said. 'Oh, no. Solitude is best enjoyed in company.' He grinned at her, quickly, and Anna smiled back. 'Especially the company of one other soul,' he added, turning back to the sea. 'It's dreadful to feel alone and really be alone. But I love to enjoy the feeling when I'm not.”

SolitudeAloneDawnMidnightPrivateEleanor CattonThe LuminariesAlone Together
Book:The Luminaries
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“I was never afraid of the dark and I spent my youth walking through empty playgrounds at midnight, worried mothers telling girls to be careful and ”the world is an ugly place and not everyone wants you well”. But I was not afraid and I wished for adrenaline to make my veins pulsate in that way that puts them more on the outside of my skin than inside. After the first night with you I never walked alone at night again because suddenly I had something to lose. Something to save.”

WorldLovePoetryNightGirlDarkGrowing UpSocietyYouthMomWalkingLosingEmptyScaredSavingWorriedProseNot AfraidMidnightBreak UpAfraidLoseWanderingProse PoetryAt Night
Author:Charlotte Eriksson
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“প্রতি পূর্ণিমার মধ্যরাতে একবার আকাশের দিকে তাকাই গৃহত্যাগী হবার মত জোছনা কি উঠেছে ? বালিকা ভুলানো জোছনা নয়। যে জোছনায় বালিকারা ছাদের রেলিং ধরে ছুটাছুটি করতে করতে বলবে ― ও মাগো, কি সুন্দর চাঁদ । নব দম্পত্তির জোছনাও নয় । যে জোছনা দেখে স্বামী গাঢ় স্বরে স্ত্রীকে বলবেন ― দেখো দেখো নীতু, চাঁদটা তোমার মুখের মতই সুন্দর । কাজলা দিদির স্যাঁতস্যাতে জোছনা নয় । যে জোছনা বাসি স্মৃতিপূর্ণ ডাষ্টবিন উল্টে দেয় আকাশে । কবির জোছনা নয় । যে জোছনা দেখে কবিরা বলবেন ― কি আশ্চর্য রূপার থালার মত চাঁদ । আমি সিদ্ধার্থের মত গৃহত্যাগী জোছনার জন্য বসে আছি । যে জোছনা দেখা মাত্র গৃহের সমস্ত দরজা খুলে যাবে ― ঘরের ভেতর ঢুকে পড়বে বিস্তৃত প্রান্তর । প্রান্তরে হাঁটব, হাঁটব আর হাঁটব ― পূর্ণিমার চাঁদ স্থির হয়ে থাকবে মধ্য আকাশে । চারদিক থেকে বিবিধ কন্ঠ ডাকবে ― আয় আয় আয় ।”

PoetrySkyMoonMidnightMoonlightMoon Magic
Book:কবি
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“Who will you be, my Little Ones? Will you dance for the fires of your youth and run at midnight to water’s edge, diving into summer’s heat? Will you ride a wild mare to any thought or dream or love of your making? Will you seek the artistry of your own infatuations and explore . . .”

DreamQuotesLife QuotesWaterYouthSummerMidnightDivingThe Legacy LettersCarew Papritz
Book:The Legacy Letters: his Wife, his Children, his Final Gift
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“Mlle. Daaé's curious action in going out at that hour had worried me at first; but, as soon as I saw her go to the churchyard, I thought that she meant to fulfill some pious duty on her father's grave and I considered this so natural that I recovered all my calmness. I was only surprised that she had not heard me walking behind her, for my footsteps were quite audible on the hard snow. But she must have been taken up with her intentions and I resolved not to disturb her. She knelt down by her father's grave, made the sign of the cross and began to pray. At that moment, it struck midnight. At the last stroke, I saw Mlle. Daaé lift her eyes to the sky and stretch out her arms as though in ecstasy. I was wondering what the reason could be, when I myself raised my head and everything within me seemed drawn toward the invisible, which was playing the most perfect music! Christine and I knew that music; we had heard it as children. But it had never been executed with such divine art, even by M. Daaé. I remembered all that Christine had told me of the Angel of Music. The air was The Resurrection of Lazarus, which old Mr. Daaé used to play to us in his hours of melancholy and of faith. If Christine's Angel had existed, he could not have played better, that night, on the late musician's violin.”

MidnightViolinPhantom Of The OperaChristine DaaeAngel Of MusicRaoul De Chagny
Book:The Phantom of the Opera
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“VISIONS OF GRANDEUR I'm walking through a sheet of glass instead of the door, Flying over a giant candlestick lighting up Central Park, Repeating two courses at Hard Knock's College, And swimming through the Red Sea with silky jelly fish. I'm hopping over an empty row house in Philadelphia, Getting a seventy dollar manicure on a gondola in Venice, Wearing a white pearl necklace stolen from Goodwill, And running my first New York City marathon. I'm discussing the meaning of life with my late cat Charlie. Dating John Doe- the thirty-third chef at the White House, Running non-stop on a broken leg through a bomb-blasted city, And keeping a multi-lingual monkey named Alfredo as my pet. I'm spying on two hundred and twenty-two homegrown terrorists from Iowa, Worshiped by a red-headed gorilla named Salamander, Sleeping with a giant teddy bear dressed in black leather, And wearing hot pink lipstick over a shade of midnight blue.”

PoetryBlueWhite HouseNew York CityMidnightLeatherGoodwillVenicePhiladelphiaGorillasCentral ParkTerroristsBombMultilingualMonkeyGondolaBomb BlastManicureNew York City MarathonPearl Necklaces
Book:Uninhibited From Lust To Love
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“They went out the back of the house to the great stone terrace, its wide curving steps leading down to the gardens. The moonlight was crossed with shredded clouds that glowed against a sky the color of black plums. Puzzled but willing, Amelia went with Cam to the bottom of the steps. He stopped and gave a short whistle. "What-" Amelia gasped as she heard the pounding of heavy hooves and saw a huge black form rushing toward them like something from a nightmare. Alarm darted through her, and she burrowed against Cam, her face hidden against his chest. His arm went around her, tucking her close. When the thundering stopped, Amelia risked a glance at the apparition. It was a horse. A huge black horse, with puffing breaths that rose like wraiths in the raw air. "Is this really happening?" she asked. Cam reached in his pocket and fed the horse a sugar lump, and ran his hand over the sleek midnight neck. "Have you ever had a dream like this?" "Never." "Then it must be happening." "You actually have a horse who comes when you whistle?" "Yes, I trained him." "What is his name?" His smile gleamed white in the darkness. "Can't you guess?" Amelia thought for a moment. "Pooka?" The horse turned his head to look at her as if he understood. "Pooka," she repeated with a faint smile. "Do you have wings, by any chance?" At Cam's subtle gesture, the horse shook his head in an emphatic no, and Amelia laughed shakily.”

MidnightCam RohanBlack HorsePookaAmelia And Cam
Book:Mine Till Midnight
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“He walked out into the night, thinking languageless thoughts...He ran suddenly across a street. At night, he knew, there could be the belief that something never before felt might be felt, something new. You could allow yourself quite easily this view of the world--this thrilling, midnightly faith--of there being something out there that loved you, that, at night, worshipped and searched for you, like a past life seeking its next, wanting desperately the continuation of itself. And though it would probably never find you, it would also, you believed at night, never give up, and this was enough--that something was out there and desperate and on its way.”

NightBedMidnightTao Lin
Book:Bed
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“MURRY: Why do we even celebrate the New Year? It's just this arbitrary quirk of how we measure time in years, right? Midnight tonight is the very same transition from day to day that we do every 24 hours. But this thing in my hands, it feels real in a way the numbered calendar box never does. Why? What makes midnight tonight any different?”

TraditionGoalsHolidayNew YearMidnightNew Years EveTraditionsResolutionsNew Year S ResolutionsNew YearsNew Year S EveNew Year S
Book:New Year's Thieve
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