#nigh

She already had a headache-she didn't want to add 'get tortured' to today's to-do list. ↗

— C.C. Hunter

#funny #funny

No, no. Don't make that face. Every time I propose to you, you make that twisty, unhappy face. It wears on a man's confidence. ↗

— Tessa Dare

#dare #funny #humor #funny

It was almost like a reverse nightmare, like when you wake up from a nightmare, you're so relieved. I woke up into a nightmare." "And what is that nightmare, Craig?" "Life. ↗

— Ned Vizzini

#life #nightmare #funny

Und was passiert, wenn du nicht mehr da bist, um [...] mich immer daran zu erinnern, wie ein Zuhause ist? ↗

— P.C. Cast

#home #house-of-night #verbrannt #home

The main hallway of the Sternwood place was two stories high. Over the entrance doors, which would have let in a troop of Indian elephants, there was a broad stained-glass panel showing a knight in dark armor rescuing a lady who was tied to a tree and didn’t have any clothes on but some very long and convenient hair. The knight had pushed the vizor of his helmet back to be sociable, and he was fiddling with the knots on the ropes that tied the lady to the tree and not getting anywhere. I stood there and thought that if I lived in the house, I would sooner or later have to climb up there and help him. He didn’t seem to be really trying. ↗

— Raymond Chandler

#efficiency #humor #knights #propriety #rescue

When I write after dark", observed Cyril Connolly, "the shades of evening scatter their purple through my prose ↗

— Anne Fadiman

#essays #humor #night #humor

Observe him, for the love of mockery ↗

— William Shakespeare

#twelfth-night #humor

Anything seems possible at night when the rest of the world has gone to sleep. ↗

— David Almond

#imagination #night #sleep #imagination

Oh! to be sure," cried Emma, "it is always incomprehensible to a man that a woman should ever refuse an offer of marriage. A man always imagines a woman to be ready for any body who asks her. ↗

— Jane Austen

#harriet-refuses-mr-martin #imagination

I went on happily reading well into the night, when no one ventured on to the decks of the Donizetti, except for sinful shadows who were careful not to interrupt me, careful not to disturb my reading, happiness, happiness, passion regained, genuine devotion, my prayers rising up and up through the clouds to the realm of pure music, to what for want of a better name we call the choir of the angels, a non-human space but undoubtedly the only imaginable space we humans can truly inhabit, an uninhabitable space but the only one worth inhabiting, a space in which we shall cease to be but the only space in which we can be what we truly are... ↗

— Roberto Bolaño

#books #by-night-in-chile #reading #imagination