Yes we are devilish; that is true we cackle. Yes we are dark like the soil and wild like the animals. And we turn to each other and stare into this darkness. We find it beautiful. We find this darkness irresistible. We cease all hiding.
Let me go: take back thy gift: Why should a man desire in any way To vary from the kindly race of men, Or pass beyond the goal of ordinance Where all should pause, as is most meet for all?. . . Why wilt thou ever scare me with thy tears, And make me tremble lest a saying learnt, In days far-off, on that dark earth, be true? ‘The Gods themselves cannot recall their gifts. ’ - Tithonus
Adventure is just a romantic name for trouble. It sounds swell when you write about it, but it's hell when you meet it face to face in a dark and lonely place.
Walking, I can almost hear the redwoods beating. And the oceans are above me here, rolling clouds, heavy and dark. It is winter and there is smoke from the fires. It is a world of elemental attention, of all things working together, listening to what speaks in the blood. Whichever road I follow, I walk in the land of many gods, and they love and eat one another. Suddenly all my ancestors are behind me. Be still, they say. Watch and listen. You are the result of the love of thousands.
I had written a book called "Boston Boy" some years ago, and that took me from the time I could speak, I guess, in Boston through the time when I finally left to come to New York. One was understanding and coping with anti-Semitism. Boston, at the time, was the most anti-Semitic city in the country. And I found out when I was an adolescent that you have to be crazy to go out after dark all by yourself; you'd get your head bashed in.
Dusty, dark, cold, and hard, coal has no beauty of its own, but when it is consummated by fire it is beautiful and becomes what it was designed to be.
. . . the dark ancestral cave, the womb from which mankind emerged into the light, forever pulls one back - but. . . you can't go home again. . . you can't go. . . back home to the escapes of Time and Memory. You Can't Go Home Again
My soul is a dark ploughed field In the cold rain; My soul is a broken field Ploughed by pain.
If a union is to take place between opposites like spirit and matter, conscious and unconscious, bright and dark, and so on, it will happen in a third thing, which represents not a compromise but something new.
Let me, tonight look back across the span Twixt dawn and dark, and to my conscience say- Because of some good act to beast or human- The world is better that I lived today.
The future of Afghanistan is incredibly dark, and decisions are happening incredibly quickly.
The things I've bought from strangers in the dark would curl your hair.
I'm not averse to making a lot of money. But where does that end? I hang out with people with hundreds of millions of dollars. Is that the standard by which I should measure myself? Where does that take you if you're in my business? I think it takes you to pretty dark, corrupt places.
I have long admired Caroline Leavitt's probing insight into people, her wit and compassion, her ability to find humor in dark situations, and conversely, her tenderness towards characters.
I would be lying if I said I cut out all dessert. When Im training, I try to satisfy those cravings with a slightly healthier dessert, like a piece of dark chocolate or whipped cream and strawberries. Those are two of my favorites!
To live exuberantly, we must be prepared to illuminate the dark spots in ourselves.
My head was a condemned church with a ceiling of bats, but I swung from this dark mood to euphoria when I thought about leaving.
He won't be one of those girlishly pretty men with curly gold hair. . . He'll be dark, dangerous, too. Brave, certainly, but not without flaws. I like my heroes human.
Eminent nutritionists have traded their independence for the food industry's favors.
I've been through some dark times but I've experienced joy too. Now that joy can't be suppressed.