But I know, somehow, that only when it is dark enough can you see the stars.

Don’t be a fool. Recognize your dependence on God. As the days become dark and the nights become dreary, realize that there is a God who rules above.

God is the light shining in the midst of darkness, not to deny that there is darkness in the world but to reassure us that we do not have to be afraid of the darkness because darkness will always yield to light. As theologian David Griffin puts in, God is all-powerful, His power enables people to deal with events beyond their control and He gives us the strength to do those things because He is with us.

The only way to see the light at the end of the tunnel was to crawl through the mud in darkness.

I know it seems hard sometimes but remember one thing. Through every dark night, there’s a bright day after that. So no matter how hard

The light at the end of the tunnel is not always a train. Walk on, out of darkness.

Be brave, you will not see the light at the end of tunnel if you don’t walk through the darkness.

The light at the end of the tunnel may be dark it’s up to you to make it brighter – you have to help yourself

I’m grateful to God for sending me as the light of my darkness. I want to spend my entire life with you. Wishing you a

& SO It is easy to harp,
Harder to hope.
This truth, like the white-blown sky,
Can only be felt in its entirety or not at all.
The glorious was not made to be piecemeal.
Despite being drenched with dread,
This dark girl still dreams.
We smile like a sun that is never shunted.
Grief, when it goes, does so softly,
Like the exit of that breath
We just realized we clutched.

No matter how dark it gets, know that the sun will always rise and bring a new beginning to those who continue to fight.

In your darkest hour, you can trust that God is in control. He will handle the tough stuff so you can focus on other things.

the people are the biggest
horror show on earth,
have been for
centuries.

the jellyfish has a purpose,
the hyena,
the tick,
the rat,
the roach
each filled with their
swollen
light.

my light is
out.
who did this to
me?

“Don’t you go to the movies?”
“Mostly just to eat popcorn in the dark.”

I reached into my pocket and too the medal and tossed it toward the black opening. It went right in. It disappeared into the darkness.
Then I stepped onto the sidewalk and walked back home. When I got there my parents where doing various cleaning chores. It was a Saturday. Now I had to mow and clip the lawn, water it and the flowers. I changed into my working clothes, went out, and with my father watching me from beneath his dark and evil eyebrows, I opened the garage doors and carefully pulled the mower out backwards, the mower blades not turning then, but waiting.

I have sat in the dark here electric (haha) typer off lights out radio off drinking in the dark lighting cigarettes in the dark there was fire off the match we are all burning together burning brothers and sisters I like it I like it I like it.

This is night, Diddykins. That’s what we call it when it goes all dark like this.

My problem is with the night,
incessant, rickety, desolate nights,
and not with the darkness.
There’s a lot of light inside me.

If that happened, it would be the end of the world.

I thought you would be anxious, alone in the dark.

In order to fight on… I want to believe that my hopes aren’t for nothing. I want to believe… That there really is more to

Everyday… Akito would come to deny everything. In a pitch dark room, I would listen to pitch dark words. My mother and father wouldn’t come

He’s calling the spirits of darkness… I saw him do this once before when a girl dumped him!

And, even though I am a happy person, if I lie in the dark my thoughts veer towards worry. I have found it better to get up than to lie in bed teetering on the edge of nocturnal lunacy.

Life isn’t always easy but so long as we have hope that we will find someone to help us through the darkness things will always get better. When we find that person, life suddenly explodes and darkness turns into a riot of colour. We’re always looking for someone, what we need to remember is that someone is out there looking for us too.

Your love is like the lamp in the window that guides me home through the darkest night.

There is not enough night left for us. We have lost our true instincts for darkness, it’s invitation to spend some time in the proximity of our dreams. Our personal winters are so often accompanied by insomnia: perhaps we’re drawn towards that unique space of intimacy and contemplation, darkness and silence, without really knowing what we’re seeking. Perhaps, after all, we are being urged towards our own comfort.
Sleep is not a dead space, but a doorway to a different kind of consciousness – one that is reflective and restorative, full of tangential thought and unexpected insights. In winter, we are invited into a particular mode of sleep: not a regimented eight hours, but a slow ambulatory process in which waking thoughts merge with dreams, and space is made in the blackest hours to repair the fragmented narratives of our days.
Yet we are pushing away this innate skill we have for digesting the difficult parts of life.

the psyche has been burned
and left us senseless,
the world has been darker than lights-out
in a closet full of hungry bats,
and the whiskey and wine entered our veins
when blood was too weak to carry on;
and it will happen to others,
and our few good times will be rare
because we have a critical sense
and are not easy to fool with laughter.

You are my morning sunshine after a dark night.

Hope is being able to see that there is light despite all of the darkness.

Have a bright morning! Don’t let darkness dampen your full potential!

Even the darkest night will end, and the sun will rise.

The light in your soul is far greater than the darkness. Shine your light.

I thought at first she was just dead. Just darkness. Just a body being eaten by bugs. I thought about her alot like that, like someone’s meal. What was her – green eyes, half a smirk, the soft curves of her legs – would soon be nothing, just the bones I never saw. I thought about the slow process of becoming bone and then fossil and then coal that will, in millions of years, be mined by humans of the future, and how they would heat their homes with her, and then she would be smoke billowing out of a smokestack, coating the atmosphere.

I got into bed, opened the bottle, worked the pillow into a hard knot behind my back, took a deep breath, and sat in the dark looking out of the window. It was the first time I had been alone for five days. I was a man who thrived on solitude; without it I was like another man without food or water. Each day without solitude weakened me. I took no pride in my solitude; but I was dependent on it. The darkness of the room was like sunlight to me. I took a drink of wine.

And a cat never knows fear — finally — he only winds up into the spring of the sea and the rock, and even in a death-fight he does not think of anything except the majesty of darkness.

My days, my years, my life has seen up and downs, lights and darknesses. If I wrote only and continually of the ‘light’ and never mentioned the other, then as an artist, I would be a liar.

Darkness transfigures into light, bad transfigures into good, grief transfigures into grace, empty transfigures into full. God wastes nothing — makes everything work out according to His plan.

Everything doesn’t happen for a reason, if by this we mean evil is a part of God’s plan. But God does ensure that evil will not prevail and that light will always, ultimately, overcome the darkness. If we follow God’s lead, our work is to push back the darkness.

The darkest hour is only sixty minutes.

I know sentiments can make you idealize another person…I know that, but I swear, to me, she was “spring.” If I was snow that had been frozen over the years, caged up in the darkness of this house, she was the fresh, vivacious spring.

Nature is the greatest teacher and I learn from her best when others are asleep. In the still dark hours before sunrise God tells me of the plans I am to fulfill.

Black as–the centre of an eye, the centre, a blackness
that sucks at light. I love your vigilance.

Night, first mother of songs, give me the voice to sing of you
in those fingers lies the bridle of the four winds.

Crying out, offering words of homage to you, I am
only a shell where the ocean is still sounding.

But I have looked too long into human eyes.
Reduce me now to ashes–Night, like a black sun.

Hatsuharu Sohma: We shall go wild with fireworks… And they will plunge into the sky and shatter the darkness.
Yuki Sohma: We don’t have any fireworks that big.

It’s Always Darkest Before the Dawn.

I want to believe that I’m not wrong. I want to believe that life isn’t full of darkness. Even if storms come to pass, the sun will shine again. No matter how painful and hard the rain may beat down on me.

It is late
And the clock is striking thin hours,
But sleep has become a terror to me,
Lest I wake in the night
Bewildered,
And stretching out my arms to comfort myself with you,
Clasp instead the cold body of the darkness…

Awake until 3 A.M.
hard hours — in the dark
anxious shadows lingered in my imagination.

After a sleepless night the body gets weaker,
It becomes dear and not yours – and nobody’s.
Just like a seraph you smile to people
And arrows moan in the slow arteries.

After a sleepless night the arms get weaker
And deeply equal to you are the friend and foe.
Smells like Florence in the frost, and in each
Sudden sound is the whole rainbow.

Tenderly light the lips, and the shadow’s golden
Near the sunken eyes. Here the night has sparked
This brilliant likeness – and from the dark night
Only just one thing – the eyes – are growing dark.

A new dawn always breaks after darkness, but only those who have survived the night live to see it.

We walked out of the barn together once it was completely dark. The five of us walking confidently in a row, I’d never felt cooler. The Great Perhaps was upon us, and we were invincible. The plan may have had faults, but we did not.

Love is like a lighthouse, a beacon in the dark. When you lose the path that lights your way, you feel that you have died, but I assure you, you have not.

I don’t know what God has planned for me or you or anyone, but I do know that in darkness, you discover an indistinguishable light.

Darkness reigns at the foot of the lighthouse.

She is like a revolving lighthouse; pitch darkness alternating with a dazzling brilliancy!

The dip of the light meant that the island itself was always left in darkness. A lighthouse is for others; powerless to illuminate the space closest to it.

A fallen lighthouse is more dangerous than a reef.

Poor sleepers should endeavor to compose themselves. Tampering with empty space, stirring up echoes in pitch-black pits of darkness is scarcely sedative.

Hello darkness, my old friend. I’ve come to talk with you again.

A little insomnia is not without its value in making us appreciate sleep, in throwing a ray of light upon that darkness.

I switched the light out and drew the cover across myself, but I didn’t sleep. Instead I lay on my side watching the sea, rising and falling in strange, hypnotic silence outside the thick, storm-proof panes. And I thought, there is a murderer on this boat. And no one knows but me.

Like the sunlight slowly fades the night’s darkness away, may all your troubles be gone by the love of God. Good morning, buddy.

During last night’s insomnia, as these thoughts came and went between my aching temples, I realised once again, what I had almost forgotten in this recent period of relative calm, that I tread a terribly tenuous, indeed almost non-existent soil spread over a pit full of shadows, whence the powers of darkness emerge at will to destroy my life…

In insomnia we encounter the very heart of love’s darkness: the essential otherness of the beloved.

I feel that we’re all lighthouses, and my job is to shine my light as brightly as I can to the darkness.

If you get lost in a stormy ocean of darkness, don’t despair; I will stay awake with my lights of love, like a lighthouse.