Daybreak Quotes

“The stars were going out now, one by one, dropping like pennies behind the television aerials and the skylights and the washing strung between the chimneys. The sky was still dark - a sated, navy-blue woman - but the grass was jittery with the expectation of dawn.”
― Peter S. Beagle, A Fine and Private Place

“When the night burned its cloak in the sunrise...”
― Tanitha Lee, Night's Master

“Don't you dare counsel me. A cause isn't love, Penelope. Love breaks you wide open.”
― Ellen Conner

“Now I see why you have no trouble getting laid," she said softly.
Tru swallowed. "You didn't before?"
"No. You're kind of an asshole."
"No more than anyone else," he said with a shrug. "Less than some."
She frowned up at him. "But you should be better."
"Why the hell would you think that?"
"Because you're Tru.”
― Ellen Conner

“When tomorrow broke, our hillside home filled up with honeyed light, a fish tank.”
― Aspen Matis, Your Blue Is Not My Blue: A Missing Person Memoir

“Daybreak,' he said, looking out at it. 'I always thought it was funny that dawn should be called daybreak. This is when the day is made - it's the beginning. I'ts the best part: you've got all the potential of the day to come, and you haven't wasted yet. When it gets dark, that should be daybreak. When the day is broken. When it turns into night time, that's when it all start's to go wrong.”
― Erin Kelly, The Poison Tree

“It goes without saying that I do not deny—unless I am a fool—that many actions called immoral ought to be avoided and resisted, or that many called moral ought to be done and encouraged—but I think the one should be encouraged and the other avoided for other reasons than hitherto. We have to learn to think differently—in order at last, perhaps very late on, to attain even more: to feel differently.”
― Nietzsche

“It is not for nothing that one has been a philologist, perhaps one is a philologist still, that is to say, a teacher of slow reading”
― Friedrich Nietzsche, Daybreak: Thoughts on the Prejudices of Morality

“The sun had not yet stood out from the orient, but his precedent light shone through the translucent blue. Yet it was not blue, nor is there any word, nor is a word possible to convey the feeling unless one could be built up of signs and symbols like those in the book of the magician, which glowed and burned to and fro the page. For the blue of the precious sapphire is thick to it, the turquoise dull, these hard surfaces are no more to be compared to it than sand and gravel. They are but stones, hard, cold, pitiful, that which gives them their lustre is the light. Through delicate porcelain sometimes the light comes, and it is not the porcelain, it is the light that is lovely. But porcelain is clay, and the light is shorn, checked, and shrunken. Down through the beauteous azure came the Light itself, pure, unreflected Light, untouched, untarnished even by the dew-sweetened petal of a flower, descending, flowing like a wind, a wind of glory sweeping through the blue. A luminous purple glowing as Love glows in the cheek, so glowed the passion of the heavens.

Two things only reach the soul. By touch there is indeed emotion. But the light in the eye, the sound of the voice! the soul trembles and like a flame leaps to meet them. So to the luminous purple azure his heart ascended.”
― Richard Jefferies, Bevis

“Love's wide daybreak draws the inturned eye
Beyond the cramping consciousness of bone
And self escapes itself for once to fly.”
― Otis Kidwell Burger

“A bloodstained, scarlet sky, streaked with finger-smears of black and handfuls of hard-flung gold. Then a watery dawn rises out of the marshlands, pale blues and greys and muddied-down greens, like daybreak in a virgin's watercolour.”
― Joseph O'Connor, Shadowplay

“But now that day had broken, nothing had changed, no one had rescued them, and the possibility that that was how it would be the whole day, whole night, and all the other days, and all the other nights, had started to eat away at him right there, in his chest, at that blue place where tears are born and hope dies.”
― Grégoire Courtois, The Laws of the Skies

“Whatever you now find weird, ugly, uncomfortable and nasty about a new medium will surely become its signature. CD distortion, the jitteriness of digital video, the crap sound of 8-bit—all of these will be cherished and emulated as soon as they can be avoided. It’s the sound of failure: so much modern art is the sound of things going out of control, of a medium pushing to its limits and breaking apart. The distorted guitar sound is the sound of something too loud for the medium supposed to carry it. The blues singer with the cracked voice is the sound of an emotional cry too powerful for the throat that releases it. The excitement of grainy film, of bleached-out black and white, is the excitement of witnessing events too momentous for the medium assigned to record them.”
― Anthony Oliveira

“Life is so fragile and uncertain that every daybreak is a miracle, almost a triumph. That first blush in the sky is all the hope of the world distilled into light. I watch the dark fade, and say to myself, “Okay, I’m still here,” and the more sunrises I see, the more I feel as if I’ll live to see another twenty thousand.”
― Dean Koontz, The Other Emily

“Ascend the mountains and enjoy the sunrise above the horizon. Witness the daybreak and be ushered in with vibrant colours that remind you to enjoy life.”
― Gift Gugu Mona