Nighttime Beauty Quotes

The moon shines bright. In such a night as this. When the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees and they did make no noise, in such a night.

How beautiful the silent hour, when morning and evening thus sit together, hand in hand, beneath the starless sky of midnight!

The moon is fat and the night air is so pure it seems edible.

Like all good ruins, I look better by moonlight.

Never have nights been more beautiful than these nights of anxiety. In the sky have been shining in trinity the moon, Venus and Mars. Nature has been more splendid than man.

If you could see the earth illuminated when you were in a place as dark as night, it would look to you more splendid than the moon.

Night is real. Night is not an absence of light, but in fact, it is daytime that is a brief respite from the looming darkness.

The night folds her trembling hands over a weary world. Out of a pale blue rises the shining moon. My thoughts are flying to the stars like lonely swans.

O mysterious Night! thou art not silent; many tongues halt thou.

When she took her opposite place in the carriage corner, the brightness in her face was so charming to behold, that on her exclaiming, "What beautiful stars and what a glorious night!" the Secretary said "Yes," but seemed to prefer to see the night and the stars in the light of her lovely little countenance, to looking out of window.

To-night when the full-bellied moon swallows the stars. Grant that I know.

Most glorious night! Thou wert not sent for slumber!

The firefly is an unassuming insect in the daytime. If you didn't know what it was, you'd think it was nothing special. But at night, the firefly glows with its own light source. The darkness brings out its most beautiful gift. That's an extraordinary talent for an ordinary-looking creature, isn't it?

Twilight fell: The sky turned to a light, dusky purple littered with tiny silver stars.

Many times, I'd spend the night walking the city streets: the Trevi fountain, in the dark, is so beautiful it moves you, but the Colosseum is my favourite place - you can breathe history there.

Tasteful illumination of the night, Bright scattered, twinkling star of spangled earth.

Against a dark sky, all flowers look like fireworks.

There, by the starlit fences The wanderer halts and hears My soul that lingers sighing About the glimmering weirs.

This is the ending. Now not day only shall be beloved, but night too shall be beautiful and blessed and all its fear pass away.

All of it seems like noise and false light, and all I want for tonight is quiet, the black and gray of a summer night, and a girl in a pink dress, beside me forever.

Sometimes in the afternoon sky the moon would pass white as a cloud, furtive, lusterless, like an actress who does not have to perform yet and who, from the audience, in street clothes, watches the other actors for a moment, making herself inconspicuous, not wanting anyone to pay attention to her.