Discover more from active rewriting
At night , while half of the world is asleep, do you try to listen to the echo of the world?
There are people out there who are having their first kiss, there are some talking to the stars and there are people sleepless with thoughts that could change the world.
but only if you listen close enough.
It's difficult to speak of the night.
It is the other time . Not an absence of day ,
But where there are no flowers to turn away into.
There is only this dark and the familiar place of my body .
And the voices calling out of me for love.
This is not the night of the yonng:
Thier simple midnight of fear.
Not the later place to employ.
This dark is a major nation.
I turn to it at forty and find the night in flood.
Find the dark deployed in process.
Clotted in parts , in parts flowing with lights.
The voices still keen of the divorce we are born into.
But they are farther off, and do not interest me.
I am forty and it is different , suddenly in mid passage
I come into myself. I leaf gigantically .
An empire yields unexpectedly: cities, summer, forests, satrapies, horses.
A solitude : an enormity
— Jack Gilbert, It's Difficult to Speak of the Night
I don't want you to love me because I'm good for you, because I say and do all the right things. Because I am everything you have been looking for. I want to be the one you didn't see coming. The one who gets under your skin. Who makes you unsteady. Who makes you question everything you have ever believed about love. I want to be the one who makes you feel reckless and out of control; the one you are infuriatingly and inexplicably drawn to. I don't want to be the one who tucks you into bed; I want to be the reason why you can't sleep at night.
— Lang Leav, The One
— Alexandra Dvornikova
Night is purer than day; it is better for thinking and loving and dreaming. At night everything is more intense, more true. The echo of words that have been spoken during the day takes on a new and deeper meaning. The tragedy of man is that he doesn't know how to distinguish between day and night. He says things at night that should only be said by day.
— Elie Wiesel, Dawn
Do you sometimes look at something you've never known and feel like you belong there ? Somehow I feel like this painting is calling out to me , maybe it's because I'm sitting and writting this in pure daylight when all I want is to be in the silence of the night.
The night never wants to end, to give itself over to light. So it traps itself in things: obsidian, crows. Even on summer solstice, the day of light’s great triumph, where fields of sunflowers guzzle in the sun we break open the watermelon and spit out black seeds, bits of night glistening on the grass.
— Joseph Stroud, Night in Day
We sat in the car& the night dropped down until the only sounds were the crickets & the dance of our voices & for a moment the world became small enough to roll back & forth between us.
— Brian Andreas, Hearing Voices
— Vincent Van Gogh, Cafe Terrance at Night
I often think that the night is more alive and more richly colored than the day.
— Vincent Van Gogh
There was a sky somewhere above the tops of the buildings, with stars and a moon and all the things there are in a sky, but they were content to think of the distant street lights as planets and stars. If the lights prevented you from seeing the heavens, then perform a little magic and change reality to fit the need. The street lights were now planets and stars and moon.
— Hubert Selby Jr., Requiem for a Dream
Some nights you will feel like there are a thousand galaxies exploding in every inch of you and you are burning too bright to ever be looked at directly, and some nights you will feel impossibly small, like your whole body, could slip through the spaces between atoms and never reappear in this world again, and some nights you will feel like a paper doll, carefully crafted and easily blown away, fragile, too delicate to ever be touched, and some nights you will feel like each cell in your body is made of the strength that holds the whole planet together, and that is okay, because you are made of stardust and minuscule atoms and breakable bones and the building blocks of everything in the universe, and you are too alive to never feel anything more than human.
— Kostandina Ganitis
" Does it ever drive you crazy, /
Just how fast the night changes? "
— Night changes, One Direction
As always, you can find more art & poetry on our website ~ unographymag.com