Night
(page 4)
Good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say good night till it be morrow.
When you wake up each morning, you can choose to be happy or choose to be sad. Unless some terrible catastrophe has occurred the night before, it is pretty much up to you. Tomorrow morning, when the sun shines through your window, choose to make it a happy day.
We turn off the TV, video games and computer — except for homework — during the week. The TV's reserved for Friday night, Saturday and Sunday just because that's the time to do homework, and it makes it that much less chaotic in our house.
Think in the morning. Act in the noon. Eat in the evening. Sleep in the night.
Marriage is good for those who are afraid to sleep alone at night.
Do not go gentle into that good night but rage, rage against the dying of the light.
My smile has been my ticket to the world. Smiling releases the same feel-good hormones you get jogging. Caring for your lips and gums is important. I brush my teeth morning and night, alternating toothpaste brands. In addition to flossing, I use a Water Pik to massage my gums and remove food particles.
There was never a night or a problem that could defeat sunrise or hope.
Loneliness adds beauty to life. It puts a special burn on sunsets and makes night air smell better.
Listen to them. Children of the night. What music they make.
A day without sunshine is like, you know, night.
We are little flames poorly sheltered by frail walls against the storm of dissolution and madness, in which we flicker and sometimes almost go out... we creep in upon ourselves and with big eyes stare into the night... and thus we wait for morning.
That is the remarkable thing about drinking: it brings people together so quickly, but between night and morning it sets an interval again of years.
The music enchanted the air. It was like the south wind, like a warm night, like swelling sails beneath the stars, completely and utterly unreal... It made everything spacious and colourful, the dark stream of life seemed pulsing in it; there were no burdens any more, no limits; there existed only glory and melody and love, so that one simply could not realize that, at the same time as this music was, outside there ruled poverty and torment and despair.
I like too many things and get all confused and hung up running from one falling star to another till I drop. This is the night, what it does to you. I had nothing to offer anybody except my own confusion.
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