Knowing that certain nights whose sweetness lingers will keep returning to the earth and sea after we are gone, yes, this helps us die.
A day without sunshine is like, you know, night.
Whatever gets you through the night it’s alright, it’s alright.
The library is inhabited by spirits that come out of the pages at night.
Night is certainly more novel and less profane than day.
It often seems to me that the night is much more alive and richly coloured than the day.
He that riseth late, must trot all day, and shall scarce overtake his business at night.
Dread of night. Dread of not-night.