Dark Trees Quotes

They whirled past the dark trees, as feathers would be swept before a hurricane. Houses, gates, churches, hay-stacks, objects of every kind they shot by, with a velocity and noise like roaring waters suddenly let loose. Still the noise of pursuit grew louder, and still my uncle could hear the young lady wildly screaming, "Faster! Faster!" ~ Charles Dickens

No my friend, darkness is not everywhere, for here and there I find faces illuminated from within; paper lanterns among the dark trees. ~ Carole Borges

Dark trees leaped across his vision like aghast dancers in the nacreous light. ~ Stephen R. Donaldson

I am a forest, and a night of dark trees: but he who is not afraid of my darkness, will find banks full of roses under my cypresses. ~ Friedrich Nietzsche

The slow constellations wheeled on. It would be dawn and then sun-up after a while and he would be hungry. But that would be to-morrow and now he was only cold, and walking would cure that. His breathing was easier now and he decided to get up and go on, and then he found that he had been asleep because he knew it was almost dawn, the night almost over. He could tell that from the whippoorwills. They were everywhere now among the dark trees below him, constant and inflectioned and ceaseless, so that, as the instant for giving over to the day birds drew nearer and nearer, there was no interval at all between them. He got up. He was a little stiff, but walking would cure that too as it would the cold, and soon there would be the sun. He went on down the hill, toward the dark woods within which the liquid silver voices of the birds called unceasing - the rapid and urgent beating of the urgent and quiring heart of the late spring night. He did not look back. ~ William Faulkner

The earth covered with a sable pall as for the burial of yesterday; the clumps of dark trees, its giant plumes of funeral feathers, waving sadly to and fro: all hushed, all noiseless, and in deep repose, save the swift clouds that skim across the moon, and the cautious wind, as, creeping after them upon the ground, it stops to listen, and goes rustling on, and stops again, and follows, like a savage on the trail. ~ Charles Dickens

Over the balustrade I could see the dark trees of Webster Groves and the more distant TV-tower lights that marked the boundaries of my childhood. A night wind coming across the football practice field carried the smell of thawed winter earth, the great sorrowful world-smell of being alive beneath a sky. ~ Jonathan Franzen

The Cavern you are asking about, yes, I have seen that, with rows and rows of tubes stored neatly in the earth. I have also seen a cave full of papers, and golden apples on dark trees twisted from growing in a place with great wind and little rain, and my name carved in a tree, and paintings on stone. And in the Carving I have seen burned bodies under the sky and a man singing his daughter to her grave, marking her arms and his with blue. I have felt life in that place, and I have seen death. ~ Ally Condie

Snow was falling,
so much like stars
filling the dark trees
that one could easily imagine
its reason for being was nothing more
than prettiness. ~ Mary Oliver

One of my wishes is that those dark trees. So old and firm they scarcely show the breeze. Were not, as 'twere, the merest mask of gloom. But stretched away unto the edge of doom.
I should not be withheld but that some day into their vastness I should steal away. Fearless of ever finding open land, or highway where the slow wheel pours the sand.
I do not see why I should e'er turn back. Or those should not set forth upon my track. To overtake me, who should miss me here. And long to know if still I held them dear.
They would not find me changed from him they knew,-only more sure of all I though was true. ~ Robert Frost

Once I knew, then I forgot. It was as if I had fallen asleep in a field only to discover at waking that a grove of trees had grown up around me.
"Doubt nothing, believe everything," was my friend's idea of metaphysics, although his brother ran away with his wife. He still bought her a rose every day, sat in the empty house for the next twenty years talking to her about the weather.
I was already dozing off in the shade, dreaming that the rustling trees were my many selves explaining themselves all at the same time so that I could not make out a single word. My life was a beautiful mystery on the verge of understanding, always on the verge! Think of it!
My friend's empty house with every one of its windows lit. The dark trees multiplying all around it. ~ Charles Simic

So, now I shall talk every night. To myself. To the moon. I shall walk, as I did tonight, jealous of my loneliness, in the blue-silver of the cold moon, shining brilliantly on the drifts of fresh-fallen snow, with the myriad sparkles. I talk to myself and look at the dark trees, blessedly neutral. So much easier than facing people, than having to look happy, invulnerable, clever. With masks down, I walk, talking to the moon, to the neutral impersonal force that does not hear, but merely accepts my being. And does not smite me down. ~ Sylvia Plath

She stepped out from among their shifting confusion of lovely lights and shadows. A circle of grass, smooth as a lawn, met her eyes, with dark trees dancing all around it. And then
Oh Joy! For he was there: the huge Lion, shining white in the moonlight, with his huge black shadow underneath him. ~ C.S. Lewis

INTO MY OWN
One of my wishes is that those dark trees,
So old and firm they scarcely show the breeze,
Were not, as 'twere, the merest mask of gloom,
But stretched away unto the edge of doom.
I should not be withheld but that some day
Into their vastness I should steal away,
Fearless of ever finding open land,
Or highway where the slow wheel pours the sand.
I do not see why I should e'er turn back,
Or those should not set forth upon my track
To overtake me, who should miss me here
And long to know if still I held them dear.
They would not find me changed from him they knew
Only more sure of all I thought was true. ~ Robert Frost

Waiting for you at night,
I wait with an open heart,
As I do every night,
With you in my thoughts,
Thoughts of you coming home,
Taking me in the dark,
Making love,
Safe and secure,
Our eyes closed
Gentle is my dream ~ Albert Alexander Bukoski

Virtually all of Darfur's six million residents are Muslim, and, because of decades of intermarriage, almost everyone has dark skin and African features. ~ Samantha Power

Delay, says Dr. Manner, is a luxury which people with right-now cancers cannot afford. ~ Paul Harvey

Faith does not reveal the truth about God; faith just keeps you in the dark. ~ C.J. Anderson

I'm goin past factories. Boxes of metal with people inside. Souls bein ripped apart. ~ Ian Ayris

Sit," Chloe said, dashing after him and tugging firmly at his sleeve. "Let's hear the rest of it. You can kill him later."

~Chloe to Dageus. ~ Karen Marie Moning

How can I be substantial if I do not cast a shadow? I must have a dark side also If I am to be whole ~ C. G. Jung

I use to think that somewhere along the line, I'd find the key to that perfect life ... and that once I had it, every day would be golden and easy and everything would fit. But life isn't like that. There are only perfect glowing moments ... and then there are everyday moments that weave them together into a shimmering path that can always be seen, even in the dark. ~ Kristan Higgins

The dark side is emotion, Bane. Anger, hate, love, lust. These are what make us strong, Peace is a lie. There is only passion. Your passion is still there, Bane. Seek it out. Reclaim it. ~ Drew Karpyshyn

My heart is a cathedral. Widows, ghosts and lovers sit and sing in the dark, arched marrow of me. ~ Segovia Amil

You left me, shuddering, in the snow storms
like the frozen branches on the trees.

تركتني أرتجف وحدي وسط زئير العواصف الثلجية مثل فروع الأشجار المتجمدة ~ Amany Al-Hallaq

He'd seen unequivocally that the chaos he'd dedicated his life to holding at bay was stronger and wider and more powerful than he would ever be. No compromise he could make would be enough. His death-self was unfolding in him, and the dark blooming took no effort. It was a relief, a relaxation, a long, slow exhale after decades of holding it in.
He was in ruins, but it was okay, because he was dying. ~ James S.A. Corey

And you might also remember you are the greatest healer among us. That is unchallenged by anyone."
"I am the greatest killer, also unchallenged." He tried to give her truth again.
She touched his hard mouth. "I will hunt with you then,lifemate."
His heart slammed against his ribs. Her smile was mysterious, scretive, and so beautiful,it broke his heart. "What is behind this smile,bebe." His hand caught and spanned her throat, his thumb brushing her lips in a gentle caress. "What do you know that I do not?" His mind slipped into hers, a sensuous thrust, the ultimate intimacy, not unlike the way his tongue sometimes dueled with her-or his body took possession of hers.
She was familiar with his touch in her mind. She knew he tried to keep its invasiveness to a minimum. He allowed her to set the bounderies and never pushed beyond any barrier she erected, even though he could do so easily. Both of them needed the intimate union of their minds merging, Savannah as much as Gregori. And her newfound knowledge of him was secure behind a miniature barricade she had hastily erected. Wide-eyed and innocent, she looked at him.
His thumb pressed into her lower lip, half mesmerized by the satin perfection of it. "You will never hunt vampires, ma cherie, not ever.And if I were ever to catch you attempting such a thing,there would be hell to pay."
She didn't look scared. Rather, amusement crept into the deep blue of her eyes. "Surely you aren't threatening me,Dark ~ Christine Feehan

there will always be pain.
you will hold animosity in your heart
and it will hurt you.

do not be foolish enough
to let these times pass;

trees do not hide during storms.

they face torrential down pours,
they dig their root deeper into the soil --

you must do the same. ~ Jean-Marie Bub

Reading two pages apiece of seven books every night, eh? I was young. You bowed to yourself in the mirror, stepping forward to applause earnestly, striking face. Hurray for the Goddamned idiot! Hray! No-one saw: tell no-one. Books you were going to write with letters for titles. Have you read his F? O yes, but I prefer Q. Yes, but W is wonderful. O yes, W. Remember your epiphanies written on green oval leaves, deeply deep, copies to be sent if you died to all the great libraries of the world, including Alexandria? Someone was to read them there after a few thousand years, a mahamanvantara. Pico della Mirandola like. Ay, very like a whale. When one reads these strange pages of one long gone one feels that one is at one with one who once ...

The grainy sand had gone from under his feet. His boots trod again a damp crackling mast, razorshells, squeaking pebbles, that on the unnumbered pebbles beats, wood sieved by the shipworm, lost Armada. Unwholesome sandflats waited to suck his treading soles, breathing upward sewage breath, a pocket of seaweed smouldered in seafire under a midden of man's ashes. He coasted them, walking warily. A porterbottle stood up, stogged to its waist, in the cakey sand dough. A sentinel: isle of dreadful thirst. Broken hoops on the shore; at the land a maze of dark cunning nets; farther away chalkscrawled backdoors and on the higher beach a dryingline with two crucified shirts. Ringsend: wigwams of brown steersmen and master mariners. Human ~ James Joyce

Devin was the most gorgeous, unique creature Kate had ever known. She'd come out of the womb an individual, refusing to be defined by anyone. She didn't even look like anyone on either side of their families. Matt's family was so proud of their dark hair, a blue-black that had been the envy of generations, the way it caught the sun like a spiderweb. From Kate's own side of the family, there was a gene that made their eyes so green that they could trick people into thinking that even the most unattractive Morris woman was pretty. And yet here was Devin, with fine cotton-yellow hair and light blue eyes, the left of which was a lazy eye. She'd had to wear an eye patch when she was three. And she'd loved it. She loved her knotted yellow hair. She loved wearing stripes with polka dots, and tutus, and pink and green socks with orange patent-leather shoes. Devin could care less what other people thought about her. ~ Sarah Addison Allen

Life and love can be so cruel and beautiful and utterly confusing. This isn't the love I dreamed of as a little girl. This isn't the whirlwind romance I swooned over in books. There's no sparkly ring, no wedding bells, no husband holding our baby in the delivery room. But what we have is a real love. It's dark, and ugly; raw and passionate. It brings pain and it brings happiness and everything in between. This love - our love – is a love that never dies. It withers in the dark and comes back to life again under bright moments even stronger than it was before. ~ Carian Cole

When hope turns dark,
I will bring the sun to light it,
I shall guide, protect thee,
For I am the human spirit.

Poem: God's Dream,
in 'Chameleon Lights ~ Ayushman Jamwal

Ahhh, you two are special friends." Nick
"How do you mean?" Kyrian
"He thinks we're a couple" Ash
"No No No Definitely not. Not that Acheron is not an attractive man, not that I've ever really noticed whether or not he's attractive, but male is not my type." Kyrian ~ Sherrilyn Kenyon

He reached the ground floor and flung the door open, fleeing into the street. He glanced back and saw that she wasn't following, so he slowed to a halt. His pulse raced. The entranceway was dark, the door swinging slowly closed. Movement to his left caught his attention: the camera on the corner of the building that covered the resident's parking. It swivelled to point directly at him, and he stared at it for a moment, suddenly doubtful it was a closed-circuit system after all.

He ran for his car, and the camera followed. ~ A. Ashley Straker

That doesn't mean it isn't true. The Shining Isle exists as surely as the floor you're standing on. It may be hard to believe, but it'sreal, I tell you. Sometimes in the middle of the night, the sun can seem like it was only ever a dream. We need something to remind us that it still exists, even if we can't see it. We need something beautiful hanging in the dark sky to remind us there is such a thing as daylight. Sometimes, Queen Sara" - Armulyn strummed his whistleharp - "music is the moon. ~ Andrew Peterson

One touch from you ... ," water coated his lips, gathered in thick drops on his dark lashes, "makes me feel more than a whole goddamned orgy. ~ Aleksandr Voinov

As an artist, even if you are putting out something really dark and disturbing, that's good because it's opening a discussion. Always in the back of my mind is this thought that the world has to be a better place with you in it. ~ Shaun Tan

It's like being home again, when they bring in the hopelessly mangled person from the mine explosion, or the woman in her third day of labor, or the famished child struggling against pneumonia and my mother and Prim, they wear that same look on their faces. Now is the times to run away tho the woods, to hide in the trees until the patient is long gone and in another part of the Seam the hammers make the coffin. But I'm held here both by the hovercraft walls and the same force that holds the loved ones of the dying. How often I've seen them, ringed around our kitchen table and I thought, Why don't they leave? Why do they stay to watch?
And now I know. It's because you have no choice. ~ Suzanne Collins

We shall see that at which dogs howl in the dark, and that at which cats prick up their ears after midnight. ~ H.P. Lovecraft

A dark woman with a sharp nose opened her mouth to yell and no sound came from her. There was the instant when nobody makes a sound, when it almost seems as if there will never again be any sound - after the sound of a gun. (Guns at Cyrano's) ~ Raymond Chandler

For a witch stands on the very edge of everything, between the light and the dark, between life and death, making choices, making decisions so that others may pretend no decisions have even been needed. Sometimes they need to help some poor soul through the final hours, help them to find the door, not to get lost in the dark. ~ Terry Pratchett

I think it's probably a bad idea for young boys to see how they're being depicted in men's fantasies. It could get very dark. You could learn how to do things wrong. ~ Amanda Seyfried

I believe that Gaston Cleric narrowly missed being a great poet, and I have sometimes thought that his outbursts of imaginative talk were fatal to his poetic gift. He squandered too much in the heat of personal communication. How often have I seen him draw his dark brows together, fix his eyes upon some object on the wall or a figure in the carpet, and then flash into the lamplight the very image that was in his brain. ~ Willa Cather

Now, you and I both know that I'll wait a lifetime for you – remember, Butterfly Weeds never give up – so take your time down there. And tonight, as you watch that big, orange sun disappear into the earth and your world gradually grow dark, I'll help God turn on the stars, and I'll wait for my dawn – when you return to me, Julia Stephens.

I love you, My Butterfly. You'll always be my endless song.

Love always and forever,
Your one and only Butterfly Weed, Will ~ Laura Miller

Weave your creative threads in the dark and then when the sun hits them, they will glisten with intricate beauty. ~ Ted Andrews

Mum bought me �kite for my sixth birthday. It was beautiful. Snowy white with � long tail of ribbons. She
held the string, and I� ran and ran as fast as I �could, but it kept dropping to� clumsy heap on the ground. When� I got
tired Mum took over, holding it high above her head and
running and running until, all at once, �sudden wonderful gust of wind took the kite soaring high, high into the sky, so� I had to squint to see it.
"Hold on, Rosie!" Mum had called. "Hold tight!"
And �I did, gripping the string with all my might as the kite danced high up above, gleaming bright white
against the blue sky, its ribbons sparkling in the sunlight as it flew, soaring and dipping like �bird, forever pulling at the string in my hand - higher, higher - tugging to get
free.
Then� I let go.The string snapped from my grip and was gone.
Mum raced after it,but it was too fast,soaring up,up and away, higher than the trees. She scooped me up in �hug and told me it was all right, she'd buy me another one. But� I didn't want another one. That was my kite,and
it was free. I'd let it go.It'd wanted so much to be free that I just couldn't hold on, couldn't hold it down.� I smiled as I� watched it whirl away - above the trees, above the birds, above the clouds, sparkling into the heavens, dancing free.
It was the most beautiful thing I �have ever seen. ~ Katie Dale

I doubted I would need my eyes. I drew in the dark, after all. ~ Ilsa J. Bick

Dark, shadowy figures moved closer, circling.
Torel pulled his two seyani longswords free of their scabbards. "Come, then!" He shouted. "Come dance with the tairen, if you dare! Miora felah ti' Feyreisa! Joy to the Feyreisa! And death to you all!"
And he became a whirling blur of motion - black leather, shining steel, red blood - spinning in the moonlight, delivering death to all he touched until he moved no more. ~ C.L. Wilson

The lawyer was a short, ugly, little man. He stood about three feet taller than his desk's two foot eight inch frame and he had dark eyes. Lois couldn't tell if they were black or an extremely dark brown. His hair was dirty blonde and very messy. He looked as if he had just crawled out of bed. His white button up shirt was tucked in on only one side and the other side hung out freely. He wore a pair of tan khakis and a pair of black loafers. His skin almost matched the khakis which was extremely creepy and Lois kept thinking the man wasn't wearing pants. ~ Rebecca McNutt

When I was a junior, boys were allowed to come visit me at the house. We could sit on the porch until about 8 o'clock at night; that's when it started getting dark. That was it. ~ Daisy Fuentes

Short fiction is like low relief. And if your story has no humor in it, then you're trying to look at something in the pitch dark. With the light of humor, it throws what you're writing into relief so that you can actually see it. ~ Elizabeth McCracken

I received the grace of shadows. The grace of remaining in the dark.
- From A Nest of Quiet: A Notebook ~ Anna Kamienska

We were green; most of us had never left home before (officers as well as men, except the officers carried their greenness better) yet here we were, traveling south up an enemy river past slow creeks and bayous and brooding trees. I thought to myself if this was the country the Rebels wanted to take out of the Union, we ought to say thank you, good riddance ~ Shelby Foote

He smiled at me shyly and took a step closer. I froze, heart pounding, as he put one hand on my cheek and leaned toward me. I swallowed, gazing up at him with what I hoped was an expectant (and not alarmed) expression. He bent his head toward mine and ... ~ J.M. Richards

Volumes upon volumes on exploration, war, violence, the life-threatening transformative journeys of man. But you can't talk about this. The fucking, the sadness, the dark, the blood, the light. They will burn you at the fucking stake for this shit. ~ Elisa Albert

In each club we went the dancers had the same moves, none nearly as sensuous as mine on any dance floor, but because they are scantily clad and stripping off the men go nuts and throw money at them. In the largest club and the last we went to I watched one pretty girl with big boobs pull a handful of twenties in one set. I followed her to the ladies-room to learn she only danced a few rounds per night and averaged $250 every night and with my face and body she said I would bank much more. ~ Darwun St. James