| Amount of texts to »night« | 49, and there are 46 texts (93.88%) with a rating above the adjusted level (-3) |
| Average lenght of texts | 275 Characters |
| Average Rating | 6.531 points, 0 Not rated texts |
| First text | on Apr 25th 2000, 21:01:00 wrote 150 ml odol about night |
| Latest text | on Jan 27th 2009, 19:42:48 wrote el cojones about night |
| Some texts that have not been rated at all
(overall: 0) |
if I see the stars shining, I feel happy. I forget everything, and then there are only the stars, the darkness, the moon, and the night. Then I feel free.
The night seems to sing, seems to whisper things into my ears. It tells about freedom, it tells about happiness, it tells about sadness, it tells about live, and it tells about death.
The desire of the moth for the star,
Of the night for the morrow,
The devotion to something afar,
From the sphere of our sorrow...
Percy Bysshe Shelley
Night in the country is very different from night in a city. Modern cities produce so much light pollution that you can't really see the stars clearly. If you drive out to a deserted road, especially on a clear, moonless night, you can see thousands of stars in the sky. Instead of a few points of light, you see distant stars sprinkled across the sky like thick dust: ancient, fiery, mysterious dust of the cosmos.
In the dark of the new moon, in the dark of the night, in the dark of mystery, we gathered – 120 men and women circling and singing and praising the goddess.
One night I had roamed into the City, and was walking slowly on in my usual way, musing upon a great many things, when I was arrested by an inquiry, the purport of which did not reach me, but which seemed to be addressed to myself, and was preferred in a soft sweet voice that struck me very pleasantly.
Ignorance is the night of the mind, but a night without moon and star.
(Confucius)
One night, she had stolen to her usual window, and was sitting there very sorrowfully--for the old man had been worse that day--when she thought she heard her name pronounced by a voice in the street.
»Night« and »Beloved« somehow belong together...
At least I have never been able to really be myself and love someone else during the day.
Night lights glow softly in the halls of homes where children are loved.
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