Night World Volume 1 Quotes

Look, I'll fight, too. What do you think it is? Bear, coyote ... ?"
"My brother."
"Your ... " Dismay pooled in Mark. She'd just stepped over the line of acceptable craziness. "Oh. ~ L.J.Smith

The information capacity recorded in DNA is of a size which
astonishes scientists. There is enough information in a single human
DNA molecule to fill a million encyclopedia pages or 1,000 volumes.
To put it another way, the nucleus of a cell contains information, equivalent
to that in a 1 million-page encyclopedia. It serves to control all
the functions of the human body. To make a comparison, the 23-volume
Encyclopedia Britannica, one of the largest encyclopedias in the world,
contains a total of 25,000 pages. Yet a single molecule in the nucleus of
a cell, and which is so much smaller than that cell, contains a store of
information 40 times larger than the world's largest encyclopedias.
That means that what we have here is a 1,000-volume encyclopedia,
the like of which exists nowhere else on Earth. This is a miracle of
design and creation within our very own bodies, for which evolutionists
and materialists have no answer. ~ Harun Yahya

We come into this world alone, and we leave the same way, the time we spend in between ... time spent alive, sharing, learning ... together ... is all that makes life worth living. ~ Jean Grey Uncanny X-Men Volume 1 Issue 303

The night is suddenly vaster, colder, clearer.
All the stars zing; the mountains glitter; towns and villages gather like bright mould in the valley-seams and along the coasts.
Every movement in byre and bunny-hole, of leaf against leaf, of germ in soil and stream, turns and gleams and laminates every other, the whole world monstrously fancy, laced tight together, yet slopping over and unraveling in every direction, a grand brilliant wastage of the living an the dying. ~ Margo Lanagan

I do not recall that I felt any tenderness of conscience in reference to Mrs. Joe, when the fear of being found out was lifted off me. But I loved Joe, - perhaps for no better reason in those early days than because the dear fellow let me love him, - and, as to him, my inner self was not so easily composed. It was much upon my mind (particularly when I first saw him looking about for his file) that I ought to tell Joe the whole truth. Yet I did not, and for the reason that I mistrusted that if I did, he would think me worse than I was. The fear of losing Joe's confidence, and of thenceforth sitting in the chimney corner at night staring drearily at my forever lost companion and friend, tied up my tongue. I morbidly represented to myself that if Joe knew it, I never afterwards could see him at the fireside feeling his fair whisker, without thinking that he was meditating on it. That, if Joe knew it, I never afterwards could see him glance, however casually, at yesterday's meat or pudding when it came on to-day's table, without thinking that he was debating whether I had been in the pantry. That, if Joe knew it, and at any subsequent period of our joint domestic life remarked that his beer was flat or thick, the conviction that he suspected Tar in it, would bring a rush of blood to my face. In a word, I was too cowardly to do what I knew to be right, as I had been too cowardly to avoid doing what I knew to be wrong. I had had no intercourse with the world at that time, and I im ~ Charles Dickens

Being a fiction writer is really like being an actor, because if you're going to write convincingly it has to sound right and play right. The only way that works is to emotionally and technically act out and see the scene you're in.
There's no better job in the world, because when I sit down at that computer I'm the world's best forensics expert, if that's what I'm writing about that day. Or I'm some crazed psycho running down a dark alley.
Or I'm a gorgeous woman looking to find a man that night. Whatever! But I'm all of those things, every day. How can you beat that? ~ Ridley Pearson

12. Historians today rely on classics like Thucydides' History of the Peloponnesian War, Caesar's Gallic War, and Tacitus's Histories. The earliest copies we have for these date from 1,300, 900, and 700 years after the original writing, respectively, and there are eight extant copies of the first, ten of the second, and two of the third. In contrast, the earliest copy of Mark's gospel is dated at AD 130 (a century after the original writing), and there are 5,000 ancient Greek copies, along with nearly 20,000 Latin and other ancient manuscripts. The sheer volume of ancient manuscripts provides sufficient comparison between copies to provide an accurate reproduction of the original text. Ironically, a number of fashionable scholars attracted to the so-called gnostic gospels as an "alternative Christianity" have far fewer manuscripts, and the original writings cannot be dated any earlier than a century after the canonical Gospels. ~ Michael S. Horton

You are all talking a bit too much, said Armando, who had cautioned them from the beginning to stay out of popular culture and in their own interior worlds.
When you are caught up in the world that you did not design as support for your life and the life of earth and people, it is like being caught in someone else's dream or nightmare. Many people exist in their lives in this way. I say exist because it is not really living. It is akin to being suspended in a dream one is having at night, a dream over which one has no control. You are going here and there, seeing this and that person; you do not know or care about them usually, they are just there, on your interior screen. Humankind will not survive if we continue in this way, most of us living lives in which our own life is not the center. ~ Alice Walker

You can't tell me? You disappear one day without any kind of warning, without any kind of note ... you leave the gang and me and just competely vanish and nobody know where to find you, not even your uncle ... and now you appear again and now you can't tell me where you were? He was working himself into one of his Extremely Excited States, Jez realised. ~ L.J.Smith

The strong and undeniable fundamentals of low-cost clean energy and the cheapest petrochemical feed-stocks in the world will prevail we believe and we're seeing the demand pool beginning to grow. We have continued to position ourselves in a way that will catch this very sustainable and fundamentally supported wave of volume growth and at the same time, help our customer base achieve their lofty goals of growth as well. ~ Alan Armstrong

Back Burner

Put the stress on the back burner
It only burns its way back
Put your thoughts on the future
and it becomes the past..."

excerpt from my poem Back Burner from
The Poetic Diary of Love and Change - Volume 1

©Clarissa O. Clemens ~ Clarissa O. Clemens

It has been wonderful to be the home port for the brave and brilliant forces of ABC News around the world and to feel every single night that you and I were in a conversation about the day together, ~ Diane Sawyer

We sat in the car
& the night dropped
down until the
only sounds were
the crickets &
the dance of our voices
& for a moment
the world became
small enough to
roll back & forth
between us. ~ Brian Andreas

A person writing at night may put out the lamp, but the words he has written will remain. It is the same with the destiny we create for ourselves in this world. ~ Gautama Buddha

Living above the world, each discovering his own weight, seeing his face brighten and darken with the day, the night, each of the four inhabitants of the house was aware of a presence that was at once a judge and a justification among them. The world, here, became a personage, counted among those from whom advice is gladly taken, those in whom equilibrium has not killed love. ~ Albert Camus

Lose the attitude, respect the man's position and his politics, and ask how he intends to handle this matter. He may not fully understand the black experience. Maybe you can help him out. Describe the terror of that night for you and your kids. Help him understand how the officer went so terribly wrong. Make him see the world through your eyes, through Marcus's eyes, through a black person's eyes."
"Do you really think that is possible, Mama?"
"It's what I have prayed for every day since the day you were born. I prayed that things would be better for you than they ever were for me."
"That's not happening, Mama."
"No, baby, it isn't, but you have an opportunity to shine a positive light on a very negative situation, and you need to take advantage of that opportunity. ~ Mark M. Bello

So Mo began filling the silence with words. He lured them out of the pages as if they had only been waiting for his voice, words long and short, words sharp and soft, cooing, purring words. They danced through the room, painting stained glass pictures, tickling the skin. Even when Meggie nodded off she could still hear them, although Mo had closed the book long ago. Words that explained the world to her, its dark side and its light side, words that built a wall to keep out bad dreams. And not a single bad dream came over that wall for the rest of the night. ~ Cornelia Funke

The answer to what we're looking for, fixing the world with love, has to be traced back to something, and we can only trace it back to the God who is love. If we dive into the rest of Genesis and say, "What is this 'day' nonsense? As modern people, we can't believe that," then we have already missed the point. God has revealed to us through Moses the foundations of our desire for love and we want to talk about matter? When we lie in bed at night, do we miss matter or do we miss love? We miss love. ~ Zach Weihrauch

He had to go to bed every night knowing his world had been destroyed and wake up knowing he must feel the opposite and go on. ~ Karan Mahajan

I'm an overthinker. Many of us are. My mind gets racing a thousand miles a minute and I get anxious about my work, my career, or where I need to be in thirty minutes. Every day I need to shut down this machine and simply be still.
Be aware of your breathing, really feel your breath going in, going out. Be aware of the feeling of the cloth on your shirt. Be aware of the grip on the steering wheel. Tell yourself--out oud--that the only thing that truly exists right now is this exact moment, and enjoy it, swim in it. Someone once said that your mind is like a raging river that's full of debris, and when you're floating in this river, you reach out and try to grab the branches and rocks. But what if you could climb onto the bank and watch the river? Suddenly you're in a calm place.
Maybe it sounds like a cliché to say, "Stop and smell the roses," so I'll tell you this instead: "Stop and watch the sunset." Just the other night, driving home in L.A., I was struck by how beautiful the sky was--a dark blue canvas painted with strokes of bright orange and red. It was truly one of the most glorious sunsets I'd ever seen. I was stuck in traffic, worrying about one thing or another, and I just gazed out the window and drank it in. I let it fill my soul and inspire me. The world stopped revolving for just that split second, and my mind was still and calm.
And to think, I could have missed it. ~ Derek Hough

In the evening, the brilliant yellow pumpkin blossoms will close, drunk on sunshine, while the milky white jasmine will open their slender throats and sip the chill Himalayan air.
At night, low hearths will send up wispy curls of smoke fragrant with a dozen dinners, and darkness will clothe the land.
Except on nights when the moon is full. On those nights, the hillside and the valley below are bathed in a magical white light, the glow of the perpetual snows that blanket the mountaintops. On those nights I lie restless in the sleeping loft, wondering what the world is like beyond my mountain home. ~ Patricia McCormick

Dream me the world. Something new for every night. Gansey said. ~ Maggie Stiefvater

And then the third night was after we broke up, which was worth a million matches but instead just took all I had. That night it felt that somehow by flicking them off the roof, the matches would burn down everything, the sparks from the tips of the flames torching the world and all the heartbroken people in it. Up in smoke I wanted everything, up in smoke I wanted you, although in a movie that wouldn't work, even, too many effects, too showy for how tiny and bad I felt. Cut that fire from the film, no matter how much I watch it in dailies. But I want it anyway, Ed, I want what can't possibly happen, and that is why we broke up. ~ Daniel Handler

We range the day And mount the sun. We soar past the rim of the world, And know not caution nor fear. But too soon the night comes. –Sigma Hotel ~ Jack McDevitt

It is no small advantage to the holy life to "begin the day with God." The saints are wont to leave their hearts with Him over night, that they may find them with Him in the morning. Before earthly things break in upon us, and we receive impressions from abroad, it is good to season the heart with thoughts of God, and to consecrate the early and virgin operations of the mind before they are prostituted to baser objects. When the world gets the start of religion in the morning, it can hardly overtake it all the day. ~ Thomas Case

I make this bond to you in blood, not flowers," he said. "Come with me and you shall be an empress with the moon for your throne and constellations to wear in your hair. Come with me and I promise you that we will always be equals."
My mouth went dry. A blood oath was no trifling undertaking. Vassals swore it to lords, priests to the gods. But husbands to wives? Unthinkable.
Still, Bharata's court had taught me one thing: the greater the offer, the greater the compromise. And I had neither dowry nor influence from Bharata, nothing to give but the jewels I wore.
"You're offering me the world, and you ask for nothing in return."
"I ask only for your trust and patience."
"Trust?" I repeated. "Trust is won in years. Not words. And I don't know anything about you--"
"I will tell you everything," he cut in, his voice fierce. "But we must wait until the new moon. The kingdom's close ties to the Otherworld make it dangerous grounds for the curious."
In my stories to Gauri, the new moon weakened the other realms. Starlight thinned their borders and the inhabitants lay glutted and sleepy on moonbeams. The thing is, I had always made that part up.
"Why that long?"
"Because that is when my realm is at its weakest," said Amar, confirming my imagination and sending shivers across my arms. "Until then, the hold of the other realms binds me into silence."
The night before the wedding ceremony, there was no moon in the sky. I would have to wa ~ Roshani Chokshi

I've climbed the high mountains an sailed the wide seas Fair faces a-plenty I've gazed on But with one glance, her beauty sent me to my knees, O hard-hearted Annie I never shall please. I've roved an I've rambled all o'er the wide world And kisses a-plenty I've tasted But it's her wine-sweet lips that I'm still dreaming of O hard-hearted Annie, cruel Annie my love. I've loved many women an wooed many girls And many soft arms have embraced me If only she'd lie with me one fleeting night With hard-hearted Annie I'd die of delight. Oh many fine beauties did beg me to stay But none until Annie did snare me Though she hurts me an shuns me an makes my heart bleed My hard-hearted Annie I never shall leave. I ~ Moira Young

In the harsh veracity of the real world, he was rich, successful, and one of the most desired bachelors in New York - and I was, well, me. A world I hoped wouldn't tear us apart by pointing out just how different our lives were.
"You're probably eager to get home," Jett whispered in my ear so the flight attendant serving coffee wouldn't hear us, "but will you stay with me one more night? I'm not quite ready to let this go. ~ J.C. Reed

My arms were taken away from me, she sang. I was punished for clinging. I clung. I clutched all those I loved; I clutched at the lovely moments of life; my hands closed upon every full hour. My arms were always tight and craving to embrace and hold the light, the wind, the sun, the night, the whole world. I wanted to caress, to heal, to rock, to lull, to surround, to encompass. And I strained and I held so much that they broke; they broke away from me. Everything eluded me then.
I was condemned not to hold. ~ Anais Nin

Then Night came down like the feathery soot of a smoky lamp, and smutted[9] first the bedquilt, then the hearth-rug, then the window-seat, and then at last the great, stormy, faraway outside world. But sleep did not come. Oh, no! Nothing new came at all except that particularly wretched, itching type of insomnia which seems to rip away from one's body the whole kind, protecting skin and expose all the raw, ticklish fretwork of nerves to the mercy of a gritty blanket or a wrinkled sheet. Pain came too, in its most brutally high night-tide; and sweat, like the smother of furs in summer; and thirst like the scrape of hot sand-paper; and chill like the clammy horror of raw fish. ~ Eleanor Hallowell Abbott

Yet there is so much that fills me: plants,
animals, clouds, day and night, and the eternal in man. The
more uncertain I have felt about myself, the more there has
grown up in me a feeling of kinship with all things. In fact it
seems to me as if that alienation which so long separated me
from the world has become transferred into my own inner world,
and has revealed to me an unexpected unfamiliarity with my­ self. ~ C.G. Jung

The day drew on, was swallowed in dusk. No bird called, no insect. Life in abeyance, the world itself grinding to a halt, who knew what would follow. Light through the glass grew dim but he read on as if the passage of day into night was of no moment. The world was winding down, and young Bloodworth wound down with it. ~ William Gay

Why are those who knew him, when they pass from the memory of a young man, sensitive and gay, to the work – novels and writings – surprised to pass into a nocturnal world, a world of cold torment, a world not without light but in which light blinds at the same time that it illuminates; gives hope, but makes hope the shadow of anguish and despair? Why is it that he who, in his work, passes from the objectivity of the narratives to the intimacy of the Diary, descends into a still darker night in which the cries of a lost man can be heard? Why does it seem that the closer one comes to his heart, the closer one comes to an unconsoled center from which a piercing flash sometimes bursts forth, an excess of pain, excess of joy? Who has the right to speak of Kafka without making this enigma heard, an enigma that speaks with the complexity, with the simplicity, of enigma? ~ Maurice Blanchot

Every spring in the wet meadows and ditches I hear a little shrilling chorus which sounds for all the world like an endlessly reiterated "We're here, we're here, we're here." And so they are, as frogs, of course. Confident little fellows. I suspect that to some greater ear than ours, man's optimistic pronouncements about his role and destiny may make a similar little ringing sound that travels a small way out into the night. It is only its nearness that is offensive. From the heights of a mountain, or a marsh at evening, it blends, not too badly, with all the other sleepy voices that, in croaks or chirrups, are saying the same thing. ~ Loren Eiseley

Clare could bear this no longer. His eyes were full of tears, which seemed like drops of molten lead. He bade a quick good-night to these sincere and simple souls whom he loved so well; who knew neither the world, the flesh, or the devil in their own hearts; only as something vague and external to themselves. He went to his own chamber.
His mother followed him, and tapped at his door. Clare opened it to discover her standing without, with anxious eyes.
"Angel," she asked, "is there something wrong that you must go away so soon? I am quite certain you are not yourself."
"I am not, quite, mother," said he.
"About her? Now, my son, I know it is that--I know it is about her! Have you quarreled in these three weeks?"
"We have not exactly quarreled," he said. "But we have had a difference--"
"Angel--is she a young woman whose history will bear investigation?"
With a mother's instinct Mrs. Clare had put her finger on the kind of trouble that would cause such a disquiet as seemed to agitate her son.
"She is spotless!" he replied; and he felt that if it had sent him to eternal hell there and then he would have told that lie. ~ Thomas Hardy

I turned to the animal world from the world of men; my heart was heavy with the tragedy of the night. ~ Karen Blixen

Be near me. The world is rowdy and nothing is certain. Do not stray. None of us was meant to face the day and the night alone, though that is what we do and memory now is a place of fading togetherness. Be near me. True love is what God intends. ~ Andrew O'Hagan

Now the world has gone to bed,' Marvin droned, 'Darkness won't engulf my head, 'I can see by infra-red, 'How I hate the night.' He ~ Douglas Adams

Discourse has ended in America. It's all just shouting and ranting and demonization. Do you know how the rest of the world laughs at you guys? Have you got any idea? They're just rocking with laughter night and day. ~ Felix Dennis

3. Alone
The long march up the fulvous ridgebacks to
The marches, the frontiers of difference --
Where flesh marches with bone, day marches with
His wife the night, and country marches with
Another country -- is accomplished best,
By paradox, alone. A world of twos,
Of yangs and yins, of lives and objects, of
Sound grasses and deaf stones, is best essayed
By sole infiltrators who have cast off
Their ties to living moorings, and stand out
Into the roads of noon approaching night
Casting a single shadow, earnest of
Their honorable intention to lay down
Their lives for their old country, humankind,
In the same selfish spirit that inspired
Their lifelong journey, largely and at last
Alone, across the passes that divide
A life from every other, the sheer crags
Of overweening will, the deepening scarps
Like brain fissures that cunningly cut off
Each outcrop from the main and make it one
While its luck lasts, while its bravura holds
Against all odds, until the final climb
Across the mountains to the farther shore
Of sundown on the watersheds, where self,
Propelled by its last rays, sways in the sway
Of the last grasses and falls headlong in
The darkness of the dust it is part of
Upon the passes where we are no more:
Where the recirculating shaft goes home
Into the breast that armed it for the air,
And, as we must expect, the ~ L.E. Sissman

No one knew what Ganseylike was, even Gansey. Teachers and family friends were always collecting articles and stories that they thought might capture his attention, things they thought were Ganseylike. The well-meaning items always addressed the most obvious parts of him. Welsh kings or old Camaros or other young people who had travelled the world for bizarre reasons no one else understood. No one dug down past that, and he supposed he didn't much encourage it. There was a lot of night in those days behind him, and he preferred to turn his face into the sun. Ganseylike. What was Ganseylike? ~ Maggie Stiefvater

You think about bathing in the sea – thick as velvet, supple and smooth as a wild animal. You think about swimming naked, and at night, with the stars, and a friend. Swim till you're far from the world, and breathing together in the same rhythm, and free of absolutely everything. ~ Albert Camus

Nothing he had done to her last night had eroded that uncanny self-possession that she had no right to possess. A bastard, a servant, a girl who changed names as easily as a hat. He could not come to terms with her. Even now, as the train groaned to a stop, she sat glaring a challenge at him. How did she do it?

He understood the source of his own assurance: his power was his armor. But she, who had nothing, walked through the world with her chin held as high as his, and nothing seemed to shame her. How was it possible? ~ Meredith Duran

One day the Five Pirs appeared before him, and Ranjha bowed himself to the ground, and Hir was with him. And the Pirs said, 'Children, we salute you. Remember God. Do not tarnish the world of love. Ranjha, you are Hir's and Hir is yours. A pearl and ruby have come together. Your love will cause trouble and strife in the world. The world will taunt you, hut be brave and steadfast. Do not abandon love, and remember God day and night. ~ Waris Shah

My twenties were great. Who didn't have fun in their twenties? But my attention was more out there, more about the surface stuff and the cosmetic stuff. I was always thinking, 'What do I need to do?' Now in my thirties, it's, 'What do I want to do?' I've just become more solid with my own identity. So whoever wants to say their twenties are better ... Yes, they're fun, especially at night - better parties, better cocktails ... not better sex though. Absolutely not. And whoever says that is lying because sex in your thirties and beyond is f**king out of this world. ~ Zoe Saldana