Dark Quotes - Page 28

• Look...at...me..." he whispered. The green eyes found the black, but after a second, something in the depths of the dark pair seemed to vanish, leaving them fixed, blank, and empty. The hand holding Harry thudded to the floor, and Snape moved no more.

  J. K. Rowling

  Eye, Hands, Leaving

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• It is the strain of walking around the world-down the street, riding city buses and elevators, moving from place to place to place-and not knowing who might want to destroy you, who might like to fill your heart with poison, who might rob you and stab you, who might stand above you in the dark with a tarantula.

  Joe Meno

  Moving, Heart, Cities

  Joe Meno (2006). “The Boy Detective Fails”, p.114, Akashic Books

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• You have begun to separate the dark from the dark.

  Philip Levine

  Philip Levine (2011). “What Work Is”, p.46, Knopf

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• Blind is his love, and best befits the dark.

  William Shakespeare

  His Love, Juliet, Blind

  "The New Oxford Shakespeare: The Complete Works".

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• For a while he'd tried molding himself into the tragic Romantic hero, brooding and staring clench-jawed off into space as he composed dark verse in his head. But it turned out that trying to appear tragic in Incontinence, Indiana, was redundant, and his mother kept shouting at him and making him forget his rhymes. "Tommy, if you keep grinding your teeth like that, they'll wear away and you'll have to have dentures like Aunt Ester." Tommy only wished his beard was as heavy as Aunt Ester's---then he could stare out over the moors while he stroked it pensively.

  Christopher Moore

  Mother, Hero, Aunt

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• Down in the city are the nice houses and the so-so houses and the lovers making out in dark yards and the babies crying for their moms, and I wonder if, other than Jesus, has this ever happened before. Maybe it happens all the time. Maybe there's angry dead all over, hiding in rooms, covered with blankets, bossing around their scared, embarrassed relatives. Because how would we know?

  George Saunders

  Mom, Baby, Jesus

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• I realized the shells were talking in a voice I recognized. I should have; it was my own. Had I always known that? I suppose I had. On some level, unless we're mad, I think most of us know the various voices of our own imaginations. And of our memories, of course. They have voices, too. Ask anyone who has ever lost a limb or a child or a long-cherished dream. Ask anyone who blames himself for a bad decision, usually made in a raw instant (an instant that is most commonly red). Our memories have voices, too. Often sad ones that clamor like raised arms in the dark.

  Stephen King

  Dream, Memories, Children

  Stephen King (2008). “Duma Key: A Novel”, p.478, Simon and Schuster

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• When we come face-to-face with one down a dark alley, we're going to be having a shufti to see if it's solid, aren't we, we're not going to be asking, 'Excuse me, are you the imprint of a departed soul?

  J. K. Rowling

  Soul, Departed, Asking

  "Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince". Book by J. K. Rowling, July 16, 2005.

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• They all have tired mouths and bright seamless souls. And a longing (as for sin) sometimes haunts their dreams. They are almost all alike; in God's gardens they keep still, like many, many intervals in his might and melody. Only when they spread their wings are they wakers of a wind: as if God with his broad sculptor- hands leafed through the pages in the dark book of the beginning.

  Rainer Maria Rilke

  Dream, Book, Tired

  Rainer Maria Rilke (2014). “The Book of Images”, p.31, North Point Press

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• 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.

  Kurt Vonnegut

  Light, Sunglasses, Lamps

  Kurt Vonnegut (1973). “Breakfast of champions: or, Goodbye blue Monday!”, Dell

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• I know when dark-haired evening put on her bright silk at sunset, and, folding the sea sidled under the sheet with her starry laugh, that there'd be no rest, there'd be no forgetting. Is like telling mourners round the graveside about resurrection, they want the dead back.

  Derek Walcott

  Sunset, Sea, Laughing

  Derek Walcott (2014). “Selected Poems”, p.128, Macmillan

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• A lang, lang time ago…” MacPhee began, ignoring St.Vincent’s low groan, “there was a bonnie maid called Malvina. She was the betrothed of Oscar, the braw warrior who won her heart. Oscar bade his beloved tae wait for him while he went tae seek his fortune. But one black day Malvina received word that her lover had been killed in battle. He would lie forever in eternal rest in the faraway hills…lost in endless slumber…” “God, I envy him,” St. Vincent said feelingly, rubbing his own dark-circled eyes.

  Lisa Kleypas

  Lying, Eye, Heart

  Lisa Kleypas (2011). “The Devil In Winter: Number 3 in series”, p.19, Hachette UK

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• We were restless for ages...After a while I heard an owl hooting and calmed myself by thinking of it flying over the dark fields – and then I remembered it would be pouncing on mice. I love owls, but I wish God had made them vegetarian.

  Dodie Smith

  Love, Thinking, Flying

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• Because the soul is like a flower that folds its petals when dark comes, and breathes not its fragrance into the phantoms of the night.

  Khalil Gibran

  Flower, Night, Soul

  Khalil Gibran “Selected Short Works of Khalil Gibran”, Library of Alexandria

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• Everyone has two memories. The one you can tell and the one that is stuck to the underside of that, the dark, tarry smear of what happened.

  Amy Bloom

  Memories, Two, Stuck

  Amy Bloom (2007). “Away: A Novel”, p.44, Random House

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• Ron and Hermione were still smirking and Harry felt his temper rise; he wasn’t even sure why he was feeling so angry. “Don’t sit there grinning like you know better than I do, I was there, wasn’t I?” he said heatedly. “I know what went on, all right? And I didn’t get through any of that because I was brilliant at Defense Against the Dark Arts, I got through it all because — because help came at the right time, or because I guessed right — but I just blundered through it all, I didn’t have a clue what I was doing — STOP LAUGHING!

  J. K. Rowling

  Art, Laughing, Feelings

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• There is a sign in the heavens Another light in the darkness A better time is beginning There is a fire star coming I see the mark of the ice bear In the tears of the dragon And you'd better start wishing There is a fire star coming Stay with me, my love...... ....Until the stars have blinked their last Wherever on this earth you walk He will arouse, excite, inspire, My Valentine, my one dark fire.

  Chris d'Lacey

  Stars, Valentine, Fire

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• That's how I do this life sometimes by making the ordinary just like magic and just like a card trick and just like a mirror and just like disappearing. Every Indian learns how to be a magician and learns how to misdirect attention and the dark hand is always quicker than the white eye and no matter how close you get to my heart you will never find out my secrets and I'll never tell you and I'll never show you the same trick twice. I'm traveling heavy with illusions.

  Sherman Alexie

  Eye, Heart, White

  Sherman Alexie (2013). “The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven”, p.147, Open Road Media

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• What frightens you? What makes the hair on your arms rise, your palms sweat, the breath catch in your chest like a wild thing caged? Is it the dark? A fleeting memory of a bedtime story, ghosts and goblins and witches hiding in the shadows? Is it the way the wind picks up just before a storm, the hint of wet in the air that makes you want to scurry home to the safety of your fire? Or is it something deeper, something much more frightening, a monster deep inside that you've glimpsed only in pieces, the vast unknown of your own soul where secrets gather with a terrible power, the dark inside?

  Libba Bray

  Memories, Home, Wind

  Libba Bray (2010). “A Great and Terrible Beauty”, p.60, Simon and Schuster

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• Little by little things began to assume a new aspect. The sense of insecurity vanished, words came of themselves, I was no longer so painfully conscious of everything I said. I drank on and felt the great soft wave approach and embrace me; the dark hour began to fill with pictures and stealthily the noiseless procession of dreams appeared again superimposed on the dreary, grey landscape of existence.

  Erich Maria Remarque

  Dream, Insecurity, Landscape

  Erich Maria Remarque (1937). “Three Comrades”

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• You couldn't have strength without weakness, you couldn't have light without dark, you couldn't have love without loss

  Jodi Picoult

  Loss, Light, Weakness

  Jodi Picoult (2006). “The Tenth Circle: A Novel”, p.103, Simon and Schuster

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• We should try to learn the nature of [the spirit of revelation]. . . . This is the grand means that the Lord has provided for us, that we may know the light, and not be groveling continually in the dark.

  Lorenzo Snow

  Mean, Light, Trying

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• The stains could be seen only in the sunlight, so Ruth was never really aware of them until later, when she would stop at an outdoor cafe for a cup of coffee, and look down at her skirt and see the dark traces of spilled vodka or whiskey. The alcohol had the effect of making the black cloth blacker. This amused her; she had noted in her journal: 'booze affects material as it does people'.

  Alice Sebold

  Coffee, People, Alcohol

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• Writing's funny, it's like walking down a hall in the dark looking for the light switch, and suddenly you find it, flip it on, and then you discover the hallway you passed through is papered with the novel you've written.

  Jonathan Safran Foer

  Writing, Light, Flip

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• Above my cradle loomed the bookcase where/ Latin ashes and the dust of Greece/ mingled with novels, history, and verse/ in one dark Babel. I was folio-high/ when I first heard the voices.

  Charles Baudelaire

  Latin, Dust, Voice

  Charles Baudelaire, Richard Howard (1983). “Les Fleurs Du Mal”, p.165, David R. Godine Publisher

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