Dawn Of The Dreadfuls Quotes

Let's make a game of it, shall we?" she said. "Whoever kills the most, wins."
"I will kill twenty!" Lydia declared.
"I will kill thirty!" Kitty countered.
Mary paused for a moment of sober calculation.
"I will kill thirty-two." she said.
"I will kill as long as I must," said Jane.
"And I will kill as long as I can," said Elizabeth ~ Steve Hockensmith

There is only so much you can do if you're pulling weight and there's nobody there to play off of. You can't have those beautiful moments with new actors who are so worried about everything else but the moment. ~ Dawn Olivieri

Even in your way of forgetting there is something beautiful. I thought all forgetting was darkness, but your forgetting is luminous, like a great radiance. Like the dawn wiping out the stars! - Dulce María Loynaz, from "Poem LXXII," trans. James O'Connor, Absolute Solitude: Selected Prose Poems (First Archipelago, 2016) ~ Dulce María Loynaz

Go 'head mouth off to me some mo'. I buzz you with my buzzer." Bennett lowered the paper to the table. "For the last time, it's not a 'buzzer.' It's not like one of those party tricks that gives somebody a little zap. It's a Taser. It's for self-defense, not for smacking someone you can't reach, and not for frying the brains out of the neighbor's dog. ~ Dawn Lee McKenna

After my final Breaking Dawn scene, I felt like I could shoot up into the night sky and every pore of my body would shoot light. I felt lighter than I've ever felt in my life. ~ Kristen Stewart

The amazing thing, when she came to do the long-postponed Egypta in 1910, after she had won international fame, was that she did indeed do a work which was not only a day in the life of Egypt but the life of the nation itself, starting with dawn, with prayer, with the river Nile (she was the river itself), with the labors of the working people of Egypt, with temple ceremonies, with entertainment of the pharaoh, and with the final judgment when, before the god Osiris, the heart of Egypt is weighed against the feather of truth. ~ Walter Terry

Ever since the dawn of civilization, people have not been content to see events as unconnected and inexplicable. They have craved an understanding of the underlying order in the world. Today we still yearn to know why we are here and where we came from. Humanity's deepest desire for knowledge is justification enough for our continuing quest. And our goal is nothing less than a complete description of the universe we live in. ~ Stephen Hawking

Morning Song


A diamond of a morning
Waked me an hour too soon;
Dawn had taken in the stars
And left the faint white moon.

O white moon, you are lonely,
It is the same with me,
But we have the world to roam over,
Only the lonely are free. ~ Sara Teasdale

Thank you is what each and everyone of us should say when we see either a sunrise or sunset.
And when we do that, maybe, just maybe the world will start to become a better place. ~ Anthony T. Hincks

I don't know what I was hoping for. Some small praise, I guess. A bit of encouragement. I didn't get it. Miss Parrish took me aside one day after school let out. She said she'd read my stories and found them morbid and dispiriting. She said literature was meant to uplift the heart and that a young woman such as myself ought to turn her mind to topics more cheerful and inspiring than lonely hermits and dead children.

"Look around yourself, Mathilda," she said. "At the magnificence of nature. It should inspire joy and awe. Reverence. Respect. Beautiful thoughts and fine words."

I had looked around. I'd seen all the things she'd spoken of and more besides. I'd seen a bear cub lift it's face to the drenching spring rains. And the sliver moon of winter, so high and blinding. I'd seen the crimson glory of a stand of sugar maples in autumn and the unspeakable stillness of a mountain lake at dawn. I'd seen them and loved them. But I'd also seen the dark of things. The starved carcasses of winter deer. The driving fury of a blizzard wind. And the gloom that broods under the pines always. Even on the brightest days. ~ Jennifer Donnelly

In the shadow of death may we not look back to the past, but seek in utter darkness the dawn of God. ~ Pierre Teilhard De Chardin

Forget self pity, live life! Be the artist of your own life. ~ Gyomay M. Kubose

Just once, I repeat, just once, destroy the divisions imposed on your soul by your society - and your eyes will open up to a new dawn - the real dawn - the dawn of civilization - the dawn of humanization - the dawn of universal salvation – the salvation where the human mind is human first then everything else. ~ Abhijit Naskar

Since the dawn of time man understands that suffering, faced with no fear, is his passport to freedom. ~ Paulo Coelho

Asparagus, tinged with ultramarine and rosy pink which ran from their heads, finely stippled in mauve and azure, through a series of imperceptible changes to their white feet, still stained a little by the soil of their garden-bed: a rainbow-loveliness that was not of this world. I felt that these celestial hues indicated the presence of exquisite creatures who had been pleased to assume vegetable form, who, through the disguise which covered their firm and edible flesh, allowed me to discern in this radiance of earliest dawn, these hinted rainbows, these blue evening shades, that precious quality which I should recognise again when, all night long after a dinner at which I had partaken of them, they played (lyrical and coarse in their jesting as the fairies in Shakespeare's Dream) at transforming my humble chamberpot into a bower of aromatic perfume. ~ Marcel Proust

But depression wasn't the word. This was a plunge encompassing sorrow and revulsion far beyond the personal: a sick, drenching nausea at all humanity and human endeavor from the dawn of time. The writhing loathsomeness of the biological order. Old age, sickness, death. No escape for anyone. Even the beautiful ones were like soft fruit about to spoil. And yet somehow people still kept fucking and breeding and popping out new fodder for the grave, producing more and more new beings to suffer like this was some kind of redemptive, or good, or even somehow morally admirable thing: dragging more innocent creatures into the lose-lose game. Squirming babies and plodding, complacent, hormone-drugged moms. Oh, isn't he cute? Awww. Kids shouting and skidding in the playground with no idea what future Hells await them: boring jobs and ruinous mortgages and bad marriages and hair loss and hip replacements and lonely cups of coffee in an empty house and a colostomy bag at the hospital. Most people seemed satisfied with the thin decorative glaze and the artful stage lighting that sometimes, made the bedrock atrocity of the human predicament look somewhat more mysterious or less abhorrent. People gambled and golfed and planted gardens and traded stocks and had sex and bought new cars and practiced yoga and worked and prayed and redecorated their homes and got worked up over the news and fussed over their children and gossiped about their neighbors and pored over restaurant reviews and found ~ Donna Tartt

Sometime later, halfway between midnight and dawn, I fell asleep with my head against the polished mahogany and my hand clutching a bottle full of nothing but blue dregs and the morning's regret. ~ Joe Ducie

Friedrich Nietzsche: "If Luther had been burned like Hus, the dawn of the Enlightenment might perhaps have come a little earlier and more brilliantly than we can now imagine. ~ Timothy George

Dream a Little Dream of Me

Stars shining bright above you;
Night breezes seem to whisper i love you,
Birds singing in the sycamore tree.
Dream a little dream of me.
Say nighty-night and kiss me;
Just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me.
While I'm alone, blue as can be,
Dream a little dream of me.
Stars fading but I linger on, dear---
Still craving your kiss.
I'm longing to linger till dawn, dear,
Just saying this...
Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you---
Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you.
But in your dreams, whatever they be,
Dream a little dream of me.
Stars fading but I linger on, dear---
Still craving your kiss.
I'm longing to linger till dawn, dear,
Just saying this...
Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you---
Sweet dreams that leave all worries far behind you.
But in your dreams, whatever they be,
Dream a little dream of me. ~ The Mamas And The Papas

Her hair gives dawn it's fire, her eyes give dusk her soul"
He knew how to use his voice to melt a girl's heart, to make a girl want to believe. I steeled myself against the seductive words. "Excuse me?"
"It's a line of poetry describing a beautiful girl, one who doesn't seem to know it. ~ Elizabeth Chandler

Cold summer night

The night is silence
But your voice is shouting
My mind reminiscing
Your love is lacking

The night is cold
Longing of your arms
I need your heat
And your gone

The dawn is immenent
I'm dreaming of you
My eyes are crying
I'm missing you

The gleam of sunrise
Touching my face
The heat on my skin
Like the touch of your hand

The sun is born again once more
New expectation, new hope
Expecting you missing me
Hoping to see you ~ Jhunmar Simila

Arethusa liked to call us Poseidon's Children. Orphans of the storm. We'd endured the worst the world could throw at us, the worst consequences of our own stupidity, and came through ... ready to face the dawn. But there are always more storms, Chiku. ~ Alastair Reynolds

After I was caught returning at dawn from one such late-night escapade, my worried mother thoroughly interrogated me regarding every drug teenagers take, never suspecting that the most intoxicating thing I'd experienced, by far, was the volume of romantic poetry she'd handed me the previous week. Books became my closest confidants, finely ground lenses providing new views of the world. ~ Paul Kalanithi

I cannot but regard it as a kindness in those who have the steering of me that, by the want of pecuniary wealth, I have been nailed dawn to this my native region so long and steadily, and made to study and love this spot of earth more and more. What would signify in comparison a thin and diffused love and knowledge of the whole earth instead, got by wandering? The traveler's is but a barren and comfortless condition. Wealth will not buy a man a home in nature-house nor farm there. The man of business does not by his business earn a residence in nature, but is denaturalized rather. ~ Henry David Thoreau

This universe an old enchantment guards; Its objects are carved cups of World-Delight Whose charmed wine is some deep soul's rapture-drink: The All-Wonderful has packed heaven with his dreams, He has made blank ancient Space his marvel-house; He spilled his spirit into Matter's signs: His fires of grandeur burn in the great sun, He glides through heaven shimmering in the moon; He is beauty carolling in the fields of sound; He chants the stanzas of the odes of Wind; He is silence watching in the stars at night; He wakes at dawn and calls from every bough, Lies stunned in the stone and dreams in flower and tree. ~ Sri Aurobindo

I want her, bro. Not only for me, but because I think she has the best chance against these terrorists we're hunting." Tony placed a hand on his brother's shoulder. "She's a vampire, Deryn. And not just any vampire. Weldon Harper calls her Pack and she's a member of the Sacramento Pack, too. Now do you know who I'm talking about?"

Deryn's eyes widened as he stared at his brother. Now he knew why they were out in the middle of the English countryside in the dark. They wouldn't find a vampire awake during the daytime and it would be dangerous to move one anyway, during that time. No wonder he'd seen a body bag in the trunk of the rental Tony was driving.

"Bro, you can't be serious; we can't kidnap a vampire - they'd shred us. And if it's the one dad was telling mom and me about, she'd really shred us." Deryn figured he would have to convince Tony to forget this mission.

"All we need to do is find where she is, just before dawn. Then, when she falls asleep, we'll just take her with us. I don't think she'll hurt us, she's not that way," Tony said, climbing inside the car. ~ Connie Suttle

No jealousy their dawn of love overcast, nor blasted were their wedded days with strife; each season looked delightful as it past, to the fond husband and the faithful wife. ~ James Beattie

Instead, as the crystal splinters entered Hornwrack's brain, he experienced two curious dreams of the Low City, coming so quickly one after the other that they seemed simultaneous. In the first, long shadows moved across the ceiling frescoes of the Bistro Californium, beneath which Lord Mooncarrot's clique awaited his return to make a fourth at dice. Footsteps sounded on the threshold. The women hooded their eyes and smiled, or else stifled a yawn, raising dove-grey gloves to their blue, phthisic lips. Viriconium, with all her narcissistic intimacies and equivocal invitations welcomed him again. He had hated that city, yet now it was his past and it was he had to regret...The second of these visions was of the Rue Sepile. It was dawn, in summer. Horse-chestnut flowers bobbed like white wax candles above the deserted pavements. An oblique light struck into the street - so that its long and normally profitless perspective seemed to lead straight into the heart of a younger, more ingenuous city - and fell across the fronts of the houses where he had once lived, warming up the rotten brick and imparting to it a not unpleasant pinkish colour. Up at the second-floor casement window a boy was busy with the bright red geraniums arranged along the outer still in lumpen terra-cotta pots. He looked down at Hornwrack and smiled. Before Hornwrack could speak he drew down the lower casement and turned away. The glass which no separated them reflected the morning sunlight in a silent explos ~ M. John Harrison

Tell me why entire sleepless nights flash by in an inexhaustible blithe happiness, and when the dawn shines in through the windows, pink and radiant, and daybreak illumines the cheerless room with that uncertain fantastical light we know in Petersburg, does our dreamer, worn out and weary, throw himself on to his bed and fall asleep amid the blissful afterglow of his painfully shaken spirit and with such a languishingly sweet pain about his heart? ~ Fyodor Dostoyevsky

Though force can protect in emergency, only justice, fairness, consideration and cooperation can finally lead men to the dawn of eternal peace. ~ Dwight D. Eisenhower

He [Dr. Juvenal Urbino] arose at the crack of dawn, when he began to take his secret medicines: potassium bromide to raise his spirits, salicylates for the ache in his bones when it rained, ergosterol drops for vertigo, belladonna for sound sleep. He took something every hour, always in secret, because in his long life as a doctor and teacher he had always opposed prescribing palliatives for old age: it was easier for him to bear other people's pains than his own. In his pocket he always carried a little pad of camphor that he inhaled deeply when no one was watching to calm his fear of so many medicines mixed together. ~ Gabriel Garcia Marquez

I am nothing--nothing--nothing. She was clinging to that, she found, as to a sort of anchor, because it kept her from having to face the terrible possibility that God Himself was not, and the realization of God's nothingness would be the final horror that could not be borne. Yet as time passed she knew that that possibility, too, must be faced. She must let go of the very last thing left her, the knowledge of her own nothingness, and face it. And she let go, and looked around for God and did not find Him; and then there was nothing, except the dark night.
But there was the dark night. Very slowly she became conscious of it, and then she found that she was hugging it to her, wrapping herself in it as though it were a cloak to hide her in this hour of her humiliation. For a long while the night was all that she had, and then suddenly, like a sword stabbing the darkness, came a trill of music. It was a bird welcoming the dawn. That, too, was added. She drew back one of the curtains of her bed and saw a patch of grey light where the window was. That also. During the hours of the night she had been completely stripped, and now one by one a few things were being handed to her for the clothing of her naked, shivering, humiliated soul. For a few things one must have to make one decent if one was to step forth again upon the highway. For that, obviously, impossible though the task seemed to her at this moment, was what she had to do as soon as the full day came, because there was ~ Elizabeth Goudge

But doesn't every precious era feel like fiction once it's gone? After a while, certain vestigial sayings are all that remain. Decades after the invention of the automobile, for instance, we continue to warn each other not to 'put the cart before the horse'. So, too, we do still have 'day'dreams and 'night'mares, and the early-morning clock hours are still known colloquially (if increasing mysteriously) as 'the crack of dawn'. Similarly, even as they grew apart, my parents never stopped calling each other 'sweetheart'. ~ Karen Thompson Walker

These summer nights are short. Going to bed before midnight is unthinkable and talk, wine, moonlight and the warm air are often in league to defer it one, two or three hours more. It seems only a moment after falling asleep out of doors that dawn touches one gently on the shoulder, and, completely refreshed, up one gets, or creeps into the shade or indoors for another luxurious couple of hours. The afternoon is the time for real sleep: into the abyss one goes to emerge when the colours begin to revive and the world to breathe again about five o'clock, ready once more for the rigours and pleasures of late afternoon, the evening, and the night. ~ Patrick Leigh Fermor

Religion is a wizard, a sibyl ... She faces the wreck of worlds, and prophesies restoration. She faces a sky blood-red with sunset colours that deepen into darkness, and prophesies dawn. She faces death, and prophesies life. ~ Felix Adler

Kien exhaled his relief. Until he saw the welcoming committee.
Bryce and Prill rushed toward Ela and Kien, exultant. Followed by Lorteus, the royal fightmaster. An unpleasant grin widened in Lorteus' battered face, and his voice grated harsh in Kien's ears. "Welcome sir! I've been sent ahead by order of our king to direct your recovery-seeing's how you nearly died by failing to heed my lessons. Good of his majesty, isn't it?"
Oh yes. Killing good. Kien rested a hand on the Azurnite sword-just in case-and he managed to look stern. "Fine. But not now Lorteus!"
"Of course not, sir' Lorteus agreed flatly. "Tonight, I clean the weapons. At dawn, I'll fetch you for work-to overcome your failure. Be ready."
As Ela linked her arm in his, Kien hissed, "He's going to kill me!"
"Hmm." Ela smiled and hugged him while they crossed the courtyard. "We think he's already done some good, sir. You're walking faster now. ~ R.J. Larson

Sometimes, at dawn, perched on the edge of his unmade bed, drifting into sleep - he never slept lying down, now - he thought about her. Antoinette. And them. The belonging kind. Sometimes he speculated dreamily. . . Perhaps they were like house mice, the sort of small animal evolved to live only in the walls of man-made structures. ~ William Gibson

The white man comes, pale as the dawn, with a load of thought, with a slumbering intelligence as a fire raked up, knowing well what he knows, not guessing but calculating; strong in community, yielding obedience to authority; of experienced race; of wonderful, wonderful common sense; dull but capable, slow but persevering, severe but just, of little humor but genuine; a laboring man, despising game and sport; building a house that endures, a framed house. He buys the Indian's moccasins and baskets, then buys his hunting-grounds, and at length forgets where he is buried and plows up his bones. ~ Henry David Thoreau

I saw the first light, fore-running the sun, gather in a cup of the eastern cloud, gather and grow and brim, till at last it spilled like milk over the golden lip, to smear the dark face of heaven from end to end. From east to north, and back to south again, the clouds slackened, the stars, trembling on the verge of extinction, guttered in the dawn wind, and the gates of day were ready to open at the trumpet ... ~ Mary Stewart

The moment I took hold of the line, I felt the mighty tug of the wind coursing into my palm and wrist, and there I stayed, transfixed. The pwer in that topgallant sail suddenly awed me, and yet it was among the smaller sails on the mast. It was a mere speck on the ocean, catching an infinitesimal fraction of all the howling winds that crossed the wide seas. I literally could not move a muscle, trying in vain to absorb the magnitude of it.
And there was something else, as well. This wind was blowing me westward. I was hurtling into my own predestined future. With neither star nor compass, I knew the heading of this wind. It bore down on a lonely river crossing in one of the last wild places on Earth, where timber moaned in a gale, and frosty grass sparkled in the dawn, and beasts lumbered and thundered the valley. A sacred place protected by Comanches. ~ Mike Blakely

Yes, the first morning of creation wrote what the last dawn of reckoning shall read. ~ Omar Khayyam

My whole being is a dark chant
that will carry you perpetuating you
to the dawn of eternal growths and blossomings
in this chant I sighed you, oh
in this chant,
I grafted you to the tree, to the water, to the fire. ~ Forugh Farrokhzad

In the empty lobby outside the Dance Hall she paused to scent the air from the landing board. The orchard was sweet and cool in the rising dawn, and the rain had almost stopped. The comb began to thrum as the hive awoke and the multitude of sisters began moving. Once desperate to be out on the wing, Flora no longer wanted to forage, only to be still and breather sweet wax.

The egg in her belly glowed bright inside her like a tiny sun. ~ Laline Paull

So be it. In my mind the beginning of a life, especially if it seems destined to be a challenging one, deserves the most promising name you can come up with. A beginning kind of name. Like Dawn, Or Hope. Or Aurora. ~ Sarah Weeks

At such a time [at dawn] I would dream of being a baker who delivers bread, a fitter from the electric company, or an insurance man collecting the weekly installments. Or at least a chimney sweep. In the morning, at dawn, I would enter some half-opened gateway, still lighted by the watchman's lantern. I would put two fingers to my hat, crack a joke, and enter the labyrinth to leave late in the evening, at the other end of the city. I would spend all day going from apartment to apartment, conducting one never-ending conversation from one end of the city to the other, divided into parts among the householders; I would ask something in one apartment and receive a reply in another, make a joke in one place and collect the fruits of laughter in the third or fourth. Among the banging of doors I would squeeze through narrow passages, through bedrooms full of furniture, I would upset chamberpots, walk into squeaking perambulators in which babies cry, pick up rattles dropped by infants. I would stop for longer than necessary in kitchens and hallways, where servant girls were tidying up. The girls, busy, would stretch their young legs, tauten their high insteps, play with their cheap shining shoes, or clack around in loose slippers. ~ Bruno Schulz

Dawn couldn't come soon enough. He had to get her out of his life as quickly as
possible. It was becoming the most important thing - more important than breathing, living. He needed to get away from her, fast. Because he didn't want to let her go. ~ Anne Stuart

Carry on the Flame to a new dawn I am with you.
~the Goddess of the Stars and the Sea ~ Jodine Turner

The measure of human character is our reaction to dark times. No one can sidestep darkness. It is the throne upon which light sits. If a soul has not known sadness and struggle, there is no chance of overcoming, no cherishing the dawn. ~ David Wolpe

I squeeze my eyes shut as though that will somehow make it go away, but I know it won't. It happened and there's no changing it. No changing any of the things that happen to us. All there is to do is move on. Starting now. ~ Nyrae Dawn

Such a thing as the child left alone to die in the hallway was unknown on the marsh. But here, in the dawn, was mortality itself. In the city were places to fall from which one could never emerge
dark dreams and slow death, the death of children, suffering without grace or redemption, ultimate and eternal loss. The memory of the child stayed with him. But that was not to be the end of it, for reality went around in a twisting ring. Even the irredeemable would be redeemed, and there was a balance for everything. There had to be. ~ Mark Helprin