#dusk

Human rights are not a privilege granted by the few, they are a liberty entitled to all, and human rights, by definition, include the rights of all humans, those in the dawn of life, the dusk of life, or the shadows of life. ↗

— Kay Granger

#definition #dusk #entitled #few #granted

People who walk across dark bridges, past saints, with dim, small lights. Clouds which move across gray skies past churches with towers darkened in the dusk. One who leans against granite railing gazing into the evening waters, His hands resting on old stones. ↗

— Franz Kafka

#dim #dusk #inspire #lights #people

When he didn't answer, she didn't know if it was because he couldn't or if he was back to not talking to her. Back to pushing her out of his life. Men! Why was it that boys said girls were so hard to understand, when she hadn't known a single guy who hadn't confused her to the point of screaming? ↗

— C.C. Hunter

#humour #kylie #men #taken-at-dusk #life

Love isn't relevant once things are really bad. They say love makes the world go round-but it doesn't, you know. Love is a luxury, and you indulge in it when things are OK. As soon as they are bad-really bad-there just isn't a place for it anymore-no place where there could be room for it ↗

— Celia Fremlin

#listening-in-the-dusk #love

[Hades] returned his attention to the playlist while I eased the car back on the road. His fingers flipped deftly over the screen. 'Orpheus...Dusk...Orpheus...Dusk...do you have anything on here that doesn't make people want to jump off a cliff?' ... 'I'm driving. When you learn to drive something more modern than a horse and buggy, we can listen to your music.' 'I can drive!' 'Did they even have cars the last time you can to the surface?' I teased. 'Yes.' 'Not counting the minute and a half you spent rescuing me last year?' Hades fell silent, and I laughed. 'I didn't think so. ↗

— Kaitlin Bevis

#dusk #humor #jumping-off-cliffs #mythology #orpheus

I mean, it is an extraordinary thing that a large proportion of your country and my country, of the citizens, never see a wild creature from dawn 'til dusk, unless it's a pigeon, which isn't really wild, which might come and settle near them. ↗

— David Attenborough

#come #country #creature #dawn #dusk

My father kept me busy from dawn to dusk when I was a kid. When I wasn't pitching hay, hauling corn or running a tractor, I was heaving a baseball into his mitt behind the barn... If all the parents in the country followed his rule, juvenile delinquency would be cut in half in a year's time. ↗

— Bob Feller

#baseball #behind #busy #corn #country

Through love arises a sense of respect. And respect gives way to fear. But this fear is different from the fear we normally experience. Fear arising out of love is fear in its most divine form. If love brings people together, its fear that keeps them from falling apart. It is what makes them responsible to each other. In this sense love and fear are but the same thing. ↗

— Siddhartha Choudhary

#siddhartha-choudhary #experience

As the station wagon pulled back onto the highway, the sun was slowly sinking below the horizon like a leaky boat. Well, except for that fact that boats are not generally round, orange and on fire. Hmm. Come to think of it, in no way whatsoever did the sun, in this instance, resemble a leaky boat. My apologies. That was a dreadful attempt at simile. Please allow me to try again. As the station wagon pulled back onto the highway, the sun was slowly sinking below the horizon like a self-luminous, gaseous sphere comprised mainly of of hydrogen and helium. ↗

— Cuthbert Soup

#dusk #funny #simile #sink #sun

The moon went slowly down in loveliness; she departed into the depth of the horizon, and long veil-like shadows crept up the sky through which the stars appeared. Soon, however, they too began to pale before a splendour in the east, and the advent of the dawn declared itself in the newborn blue of heaven. Quieter and yet more quiet grew the sea, quiet as the soft mist that brooded on her bosom, and covered up her troubling, as in our tempestuous life the transitory wreaths of sleep brook upon a pain-racked soul, causing it to forget its sorrow. From the east to the west sped those angels of the Dawn, from sea to sea, from mountain-top to mountain-top, scattering light from breast and wing. On they sped out of the darkness, perfect, glorious; on, over the quiet sea, over the low coast-line, and the swamps beyond, and the mountains above them; over those who slept in peace and those who woke in sorrow; over the evil and the good; over the living and the dead; over the wide world and all that breathes or as breathed thereon. ↗

— H. Rider Haggard

#dusk #heavens #horizon #life #mist