Noon Quotes - Page 9

• If at noon you sit down and there's just silence or blank tape, in an hour if you have a song, that didn't exist an hour ago. Now it exists and it might exist for a long time. There's something empowering about that.

  Eddie Vedder

  Song, Long, Silence

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• They threw me off the haytruck about noon.

  James M. Cain

  The Postman Always Rings Twice ch. 1 (1934)

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• morning night and noon the traffic moves through and the murder and treachery of friends and lovers and all the people move through you. pain is the joy of knowing the unkindest truth that arrives without warning. life is being alone death is being alone. even the fools weep morning night and noon.

  Charles Bukowski

  Morning, Pain, Moving

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• I am not yours, nor lost in you, not lost, although I long to be. Lost as a candle lit at noon, lost as a snowflake in the sea. You love me, and I find you still a spirit beautiful and bright, yet I am I, who long to be lost as a light is lost in light.

  Sara Teasdale

  Beautiful, Light, Sea

  Sara Teasdale (1937). “Collected poems”

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• I just love the gifts you bring me for lunch. Other girls get diamonds. Me? I get mayhem and blood – and all before noon. Thanks, Tate. (Simone)

  Sherrilyn Kenyon

  Girl, Blood, Lunch

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• I've never really thought about it before, but it's a miracle how many kinds of light there are in the world, how many skies: the pale brightness of spring, when it feels like the hole world's blushing; the lush, bright boldness of a July noon; purple storm skies and a green queasiness just before lightning strikes and crazy multicolored sunsets that look like someone's acid trip.

  Lauren Oliver

  Crazy, Spring, Sunset

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• Only because I’m not a morning person. (Joe) And you’re not a night person either. Face it, babe. You’ve only got two good minutes a day. The minute before noon and the minute right after. (Tee)

  Sherrilyn Kenyon

  Morning, Night, Two

  Sherrilyn Kenyon (2005). “Bad Attitude”, p.17, Simon and Schuster

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• I stood my ground. "You evil scientist are all the same--evil. Count me out." Fang and I brushed past Mr. God and walked quickly but smoothly to the exit. It was barely noon, and I'd already made a huge enemy. Dang, I'm good.

  James Patterson

  Past, Evil, Enemy

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• No one knows what he himself is made of, except his own spirit within him, yet there is still some part of him which remains hidden even from his own spirit; but you, Lord, know everything about a human being because you have made him...Let me, then, confess what I know about myself, and confess too what I do not know, because what I know of myself I know only because you shed light on me, and what I do not know I shall remain ignorant about until my darkness becomes like bright noon before your face.

  Saint Augustine

  Light, Darkness, Ignorant

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• What should I do?" "Throw up in your typewriter every morning." "Yeah." "Clean up every noon.

  Ray Bradbury

  Morning, Typewriters, Clean

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• Strange now to think of you, gone without corsets & eyes, while I walk on the sunny pavement of Greenwich Village. downtown Manhattan, clear winter noon, and I've been up all night, talking, talking, reading the Kaddish aloud, listening to Ray Charles blues shout blind on the phonograph

  Allen Ginsberg

  Reading, Eye, Winter

  Allen Ginsberg, “Kaddish, Part I”

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• At noon I observed a bevy of nude young native women bathing in the sea, and I went and sat down on their clothes to keep them from being stolen.

  Mark Twain

  Sea, Clothes, Stolen

  Mark Twain (2008). “Roughing It: Easyread Large Bold Edition”, p.249, ReadHowYouWant.com

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• Maybe nothingness is to be without your presence, without you moving, slicing the noon like a blue flower, without you walking later through the fog and the cobbles, without the light you carry in your hand, golden, which maybe others will not see, which maybe no one knew was growing like the red beginnings of a rose. In short, without your presence: without your coming suddenly, incitingly, to know my life, gust of a rosebush, wheat of wind: since then I am because you are, since then you are, I am, we are, and through love I will be, you will be, we will be.

  Pablo Neruda

  Flower, Moving, Light

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• The wind sounds like a silver wire, And from beyond the noon a fire Is pour'd upon the hills, and nigher The skies stoop down in their desire; And, isled in sudden seas of light, My heart, pierced thro' with fierce delight, Bursts into blossom in his sight.

  Alfred Lord Tennyson

  Heart, Fire, Light

  Alfred, Lord Tennyson (2013). “Delphi Complete Works of Alfred, Lord Tennyson (Illustrated)”, p.295, Delphi Classics

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• A great sorrow, like a mariner's quadrant, brings the sun at noon down to the horizon, and we learn where we are on the sea of life.

  Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

  Sea, Sorrow, Sun

  Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1888). “Longfellow's Days: The Longfellow Prose Birthday Book : Extracts from the Journals and Letters of H. W. Longfellow”

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• The first week of August hangs at the very top of summer, the top of the live-long year, like the highest seat of a Ferris wheel when it pauses in its turning. The weeks that come before are only a climb from balmy spring, and those that follow a drop to the chill of autumn, but the first week of August is motionless, and hot. It is curiously silent, too, with blank white dawns and glaring noons, and sunsets smeared with too much color.

  Natalie Babbitt

  Summer, Spring, Sunset

  Natalie Babbitt (2015). “Tuck Everlasting”, p.3, Macmillan

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• Then, as horizons step, Or noons report away,Without the formula of sound, It passes, and we stay:A quality of loss Affecting our content.

  Emily Dickinson

  Loss, Quality, Sound

  Emily Dickinson (1998). “The Poems of Emily Dickinson”, p.613, Harvard University Press

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• The day becomes more solemn and serene When noon is past; there is a harmony In autumn, and a lustre in its sky, Which through the summer is not heard or seen, As if it could not be, as if it had not been! Thus let thy power, which like the truth Of nature on my passive youth Descended, to my onward life supply Its calm, to one who worships thee, And every form containing thee, Whom, SPIRIT fair, thy spells did bind To fear himself, and love all human kind.

  Percy Bysshe Shelley

  Summer, Autumn, Past

  'Hymn to Intellectual Beauty' (1816)

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• In Africa a thing is true at first light and a lie by noon and you have no more respect for it than for the lovely, perfect wood-fringed lake you see across the sun-baked salt plain. You have walked across that plain in the morning and you know that no such lake is there. But now it is there absolutely true, beautiful and believable.

  Ernest Hemingway

  Beautiful, Morning, Lying

  "True at First Light" by Ernest Hemingway, (Ch. 10), 1999.

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• Deep in the shady sadness of a vale Far sunken from the healthy breath of morn, Far from the fiery noon and eve's one star, Sat gray-haired Saturn, quiet as a stone, Still as the silence round about his lair.

  John Keats

  Stars, Sadness, Silence

  1820 Lamia, Isabella, The Eve of St. Agnes and Other Poems, 'Hyperion', bk.1, l.1-5.

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• I grew up in Pittsburgh, where you couldn't even see the noon sun in the sky, and that whole city was cleaned up without the federal government needing to be involved. I think we would have been much better served from the start if people would have better understood the principles of private property.

  Ron Paul

  Thinking, Government, Sky

  "The Washington Post - The Candidates: Rep. Ron Paul". votesmart.org. October 12, 2007.

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• Nicias, do you think you can erase with good deeds the wrongs you committed against your mother? What good deed will ever reach her? Her soul is a scorching noon time, without a single breath of a breeze, nothing moves, nothing changes, nothing lives there; a great emaciated sun, an immobile sun eternally consumes her.

  Jean-Paul Sartre

  Mother, Moving, Thinking

  "The Flies". Play by Jean-Paul Sartre, Act 2, 1943.

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• But instead they tell you they'll come to fix your cable between noon and five, and I say, okay, I'll pay my next bill between July and November, but they don't laugh.

  Tim Dorsey

  July, Laughing, Pay

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• Above the care of Nature and of State, Suspended in the noon of Night we wait, All slumber nursing, to make sweet and pure, While secret Nature, weaving works the cure. We are the handmaids of the hollow night, The angels of the dark, restoring sight; We go -- the pains of Day to soothe, console -- Awake, arise! Behold thou art made whole.

  Bram Stoker

  Sweet, Art, Pain

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• And Love, our light at night and shade at noon,Lulls us to rest with songs, and turns awayAll shafts of shelterless tumultuous day.

  Dante Gabriel Rossetti

  Song, Night, Light

  Dante Gabriel Rossetti (1902). “The House of Life: A Sonnet-sequence”, p.12, Library of Alexandria

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