Evening Quotes - Page 24

• Praise not the day until evening has come, a woman until she is burnt, a sword until it is tried, a maiden until she is married, ice until it has been crossed, beer until it has been drunk.

  Michael Crichton

  Beer, Ice, Drunk

  Michael Crichton (1997). “The 13th Warrior.: The Manuscript of Ibn Fadlan, Relating His Experiences with the Northmen in A.D. 922.”

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• When the evening was over, Anne could not be amused…nor could she help fearing, on more serious reflection, that, like many other great moralists and preachers, she had been eloquent on a point in which her own conduct would ill bear examination.

  Jane Austen

  Reflection, Examination, Bears

  Jane Austen (2013). “Persuasion In Modern English”, p.242, BookCaps Study Guides

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• Perhaps the same bird echoed through both of us yesterday, seperate, in the evening.

  Rainer Maria Rilke

  Yesterday, Bird

  Rainer Maria Rilke, “You Who Never Arrived”

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• This is the substance of the Way of the Samurai: if by setting one's heart right every morning and evening, one is able to live as though his body were already dead, he gains freedom in the Way. his whole life will be without blame, and he will succeed in his calling.

  Yamamoto Tsunetomo

  Morning, Heart, Calling

  Miyamoto Musashi, Yamamoto Tsunetomo, Inazo Nitobe (2010). “Honor: Samurai Philosophy of Life - The Essential Samurai Collection; The Book of Five Rings, Hagakure: The Way of the Samurai, Bushido: The Soul of Japan.”, p.49, Bottom of the Hill

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• I've seen it all through the yellow windows of the evening train.

  Tom Waits

  Yellow, Window, Train

  Song: 9th and Hennepin, Album: Rain Dogs

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• As to the thoughts, they are elfish. Those eyes in the Evening Star you must have seen in a dream.

  Charlotte Bronte

  Dream, Stars, Eye

  Charlotte Bronte, Emily Bronte, Anne Bronte (2009). “The Bronte Sisters: Three Novels: Jane Eyre; Wuthering Heights; and Agnes Grey (Penguin Classics Deluxe Edition)”, p.106, Penguin

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• The disgraced Usurer Yankel D took the baby girl home that evening... He made a bed of crumpled newspaper in a deep baking pan and gently tucked it in the oven, so that she wouldn't be disturbed by the noise of the small falls outside... When he pulled her out to feed her or just hold her, her body was tattooed with the newsprint... Sometimes he would rock her to sleep in his arms, and read her left to right, and know everything he needed to know about the world. If it wasn't written on her, it wasn't important to him.

  Jonathan Safran Foer

  Girl, Baby, Fall

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• Why?' is always the most difficult question to answer. You know where you are when someone asks you 'What's the time?' or 'When was the battle of 1066?' or 'How do these seatbelts work that go tight when you slam the brakes on, Daddy?' The answers are easy and are, respectively, 'Seven-thirty in the evening,' 'Ten-fifteen in the morning,' and 'Don't ask stupid questions.

  Douglas Adams

  Morning, Stupid, Difficult Questions

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• From the place by the railing at the edge of the tracks on the summer evening I return across the city to my own room. I am vividly aware of my own life that escaped the winter on the boat. How many such lives I have lived. Then I only made a dollar and a half a day and now I sometimes make more than that in a few minutes. How wonderful to be able to write words. ... Again I begin the endless game of reconstructing my own life, jerking it out of the shell that dies, striving to breathe into it beauty and meaning. ... I wonder why my life, why all lives, are not more beautiful.

  Sherwood Anderson

  Beautiful, Summer, Writing

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• Let it come, as it will, and don't be afraid. God does not leave us comfortless, so let evening come.

  Jane Kenyon

  Doe

  Jane Kenyon (1990). “Let evening come: poems”, Graywolf Pr

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• Sir," returned Mrs. Sparsit, " I cannot say that i have heard him precisely snore, and therefore must not make that statement. But on winter evenings, when he has fallen asleep at his table, I have heard him, what I should prefer to describe as partially choke. I have heard him on such occasions produce sounds of a nature similar to what may be heard in dutch clocks. Not," said Mrs. Sparsit, with a lofty sense of giving strict evidence, " That I would convey any imputation on his moral character. Far from it.

  Charles Dickens

  Character, Winter, Giving

  Charles Dickens “Hard Times”, W. W. Norton & Company

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• And now she was back in the world, not one she could make, but the one that had made her, and she felt herself shrinking under the early evening sky. She was weary of being outdoors, but she was not ready to go in. Was that really all there was in life, indoors or out? Wasn't there somewhere else for people to go?

  Ian Mcewan

  Somewhere Else, Sky, People

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• You either choose this method of passing the evening because you are in each other's confidence, and have secret affairs to discuss, or because you are conscious that your figures appear to the greatest advantage in walking;— if the first, I should be completely in your way, and if the second, I can admire you much better as I sit by the fire.

  Jane Austen

  Fire, Secret, Way

  Jane Austen (2016). “Pride and Prejudice (Illustrated)”, p.50, Full Moon Publications

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• It was Night. In most places, Night is a time for sleep, for calm, and for mystery. But not in New York City, where many things conspired every evening to murder the night.

  Regina Doman

  New York, Sleep, Night

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• He wondered vaguely whether in the abolished past it had been a normal experience to lie in bed like this, in the cool of a summer evening, a man and a woman with no clothes on, making love when they chose, talking of what they chose, not feeling any compulsion to get up, simply lying there and listening to peaceful sounds outside. Surely there could never have been a time when that seemed ordinary?

  George Orwell

  Summer, Lying, Past

  George Orwell, A.M. Heath (2003). “Animal Farm and 1984”, p.238, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

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• Above us our palace waits, the only one I've ever needed. Its walls are space, its floor is sky, its center everywhere. We rise; the shapes cluster around us in welcome, dissolving and forming again like fireflies in a summer evening.

  Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni

  Summer, Wall, Firefly

  Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni (2009). “The Palace of Illusions: A Novel”, p.360, Anchor

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• The moon looks wonderful in this warm evening light, just as a candle flame looks beautiful in the light of morning. Light within light...It seems to me to be a metaphor for the human soul, the singular light within that great general light of existence.

  Marilynne Robinson

  Beautiful, Morning, Moon

  Marilynne Robinson (2004). “Gilead: A Novel”, p.119, Macmillan

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• When evening comes, I return home and go into my study. On the threshold I strip off my muddy, sweaty clothes of everyday, and put on the robes of court and palace, and in this graver dress I enter the antique courts of the ancients and am welcomed by them, and there I taste the food that alone is mine, and for which I was born. And there I make bold to speak to them and ask the motives of their actions, and they, in their humanity, reply to me. And for the space of four hours I forget the world, remember no vexation, fear poverty no more, tremble no more at death; I pass indeed into their world.

  Niccolo Machiavelli

  Home, Clothes, Space

  "The Prince". Political treatise by Niccolo Machiavelli, 1532.

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• Relius looked away. "He said that you...cried," he said softly. "But not that he cried as well," said the queen, amused at the memory. "We were very lachrymose... would you like to hear more romance of the evening? He told me the Guard should be reduced by half, and I threw an ink jar at his head." "Is that when he cried?" "He ducked," said Attolia dryly. "I had not pictured you for a fishwife." "Lo, the transforming power of love.

  Megan Whalen Turner

  Queens, Memories, Romance

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• I noticed that she wore her evening dress, all her dresses, like sports clothes-there was a jauntiness about her movements as if she had first learned to walk upon a golf course on clean, crisp, mornings.

  F. Scott Fitzgerald

  Sports, Morning, Golf

  F. Scott Fitzgerald (1998). “The Great Gatsby”, p.42, OUP Oxford

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• Whoever you are: in the evening step out of your room, where you know everything; yours is the last house before the far-off: whoever you are. With your eyes, which in their weariness barely free themselves from the worn-out threshold, you lift very slowly one black tree and place it against the sky: slender, alone. And you have made the world. And it is huge and like a word which grows ripe in silence. And as your will seizes on its meaning, tenderly your eyes let it go.

  Rainer Maria Rilke

  Eye, Sky, Silence

  Rainer Maria Rilke (2014). “The Book of Images”, p.5, North Point Press

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• Girls, there are poets who learn from you to say, what you, in your aloneness, are; and they learn through you to live distantness, as the evenings through the great stars become accustomed to eternity.

  Rainer Maria Rilke

  Girl, Stars, Eternity

  Rainer Maria Rilke (2014). “The Book of Images”, p.17, North Point Press

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• Lately it has become more and more difficult to attend dinner parties without the evening ending in gunfire or tapioca.

  Daniel Handler

  Party, Dinner, Difficult

  "The Grim Grotto". Book by Daniel Handler, 2004.

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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, Dark, Sea

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

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• The evenings grew longer; kitchen windows stayed open after dinner and peepers could be heard in the marsh. Isabelle, stepping out to sweep her porch steps, felt absolutely certain that some wonderful change was arriving in her life. The strength of this belief was puzzling; what she was feeling, she decided, was really the presence of God.

  Elizabeth Strout

  Feelings, Kitchen, Arriving

  Elizabeth Strout (2013). “Amy & Isabelle”, p.101, Simon and Schuster

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