It's true though: time moves in its own special way in the middle of the night," the bartender says, loudly striking a book match and lighting a cigarette. "You can't fight it.
Listen to them, the children of the night. What music they make!
I really love the dark of the night. It helps me to concentrate.
The waitress brought me another drink. She wanted to light my hurricane lamp again. I wouldn't let her. "Can you see anything in the dark, with your sunglasses on?" she asked me. "The big show is inside my head," I said.
Tasteful illumination of the night, Bright scattered, twinkling star of spangled earth.
The sound universe is also spectacular around here. In the evenings there's a cricket orchestra with frogs providing the bass line. In the dead of night the dogs howl about how misunderstood they are. Before dawn the roosters for miles around announce how freaking cool it is to be roosters.
And then, at night, the lit lamp and the drawn curtain, with the flutter of the turned page and soft scrape of pen on paper the only sounds to break the silence between quarter- and quarter-chime.
In the dark beside me, she smelled of sweat and sunshine and vanilla.
May night continue to fall upon the orchestra
We walked at night towards a cafe blooming with Japanese lanterns and I followed your white shoes gleaming like radium in the damp darkness. Rising off the water, lights flickered an invitation far enough away to be interpreted as we liked; to shimmer glamourously behind the silhouette of retrospective good times when we still believed in summer hotels and the philosophies of popular songs.
The city was blacked out because bombers might come, so Billy didn't get to see Dresden do one of the most cheerful things a city can do when the sun goes down, which is to wink its lights on one by one.
Counting stars by candlelight all are dim but one is bright; the spiral light of Venus rising first and shining best, from the northwest corner of a brand-new crescent moon crickets and cicadas sing a rare and different tune.
Sound loves to revel in a summer night.
Here comes the time when, vibrating on its stem, every flower fumes like a censer; noises and perfumes circle in the evening air.
Fire looks better at night.
The world just feels different for those of us who come alive after dark. It's more fragile and unreal, a replica of the one everyone else inhabits.
Between the time the last train leaves and the first train arrives, the place changes: it's not the same as in daytime.
The window shades have all been removed. Nighttime is now free to encroach.
We walked along the river with the words streaming behind us like ribbons in the night.
