Charles Dickens Quotes

...So let us welcome peaceful evening in.

Winds and waters keepA hush more dead than any sleep.

After the sunset on the prairie, there are only the stars

Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns.

The grey nurse resumed her knitting as Peter Walsh, on the hot seat beside her, began snoring. In her grey dress, moving her hands indefatigably yet quietly, she seemed like the champion of the rights of sleepers, like one of those spectral presences which rise in twilight in woods made of sky and branches. The solitary traveler, haunter of lanes, disturber of ferns, and devastator of hemlock plants, looking up, suddenly sees the giant figure at the end of the ride.

The trees, the flowers, the plants grow in silence. The stars, the sun, the moon move in silence. Silence gives us a new perspective.

Evening of a hot day started the little wind to moving among the leaves. The shade climbed up the hills toward the top. On the sand banks the rabbits sat as quietly as little gray, sculptured stones.

No stir of air was there, Not so much life as on a summer's day Robs not one light seed from the feather'd grass, But where the dead leaf fell, there did it rest.

I have always valued quiet, and the eternity of it that I face is no more dreadful than the eternity of quiet that preceded my birth.

We now to peace and darkness And earth and thee restore Thy creature that thou madest And wilt cast forth no more.

I know that when the world surrenders, pallid, to repose, the murmur of a tranquil stream through the deep silence flows.

Over all the mountain tops is peace. In all treetops you perceive scarcely a breath. The little birds in the forest are silent. Wait then; soon, you too, will have peace.

Although I have always loved the noise of laughter, I really can't fear the coming of quiet. As for funerals, I rather like them. Such nice things are always said about the deceased, I feel sad that they had to miss hearing it all by just a few days.

Sunset and evening star, And one clear call for me! And may there be no moaning of the bar When I put out to sea.

In each thing there is an insinuation of death. Stillness, silence, serenity are all apprenticeships.

Filled with rapture, his soul yearned for freedom, space, vastness. Over him the heavenly dome, full of quiet, shining stars, hung boundlessly. From the zenith to the horizon the still-dim Milky Way stretched its double strand. Night, fresh and quiet, almost unstirring, enveloped the earth. The white towers and golden domes of the church gleamed in the sapphire sky. The luxuriant autumn asleep till morning. The silence of the earth seemed to merge with the silence of the heavens and the mystery of the earth touched the mystery of the stars.

At the close of the day when the hamlet is still, and mortals the sweets of forgetfulness prove, when naught but the torrent is heard on the hill, and naught but the nightingale's song in the grove.

There are moments when all anxiety and stated toil are becalmed in the infinite leisure and repose of nature.

But I do like to have peace and quiet for a good hour.

On all the peaks lies peace.

At home, I love reaching out into that absolute silence, when you can hear the owl or the wind.

The temple bell stops but I still hear the sound coming out of the flowers.

Quietness is the beginning of virtue. To be silent is to be beautiful. Stars do not make a noise.

They say in the grave there is peace, and peace and the grave are one and the same.

Twilight drops her curtain down, and pins it with a star.