A Night In The Barn Quotes

#1. The deer carcass hangs from a rafter.
Wrapped in blankets, a boy keeps watch
from a pile of loose hay. Then he sleeps

and dreams about a death that is coming:
Inside him, there are small bones
scattered in a field among burdocks and dead grass.
He will spend his life walking there,
gathering the bones together.

Pigeons rustle in the eaves.
At his feet, the German shepherd
snaps its jaws in its sleep. #Quote by Gregory Orr

#2. Just look at this life: the insolence and idleness of the strong, the ignorance and brutishness of the weak, impossible poverty all around us, overcrowding, degeneracy, drunkenness, hypocrisy, lies...Yet in all the houses and streets it's quiet, peaceful; of the fifty thousand people who live in town there is not one who would cry out or become loudly indignant. We see those who go to the market to buy food, eat during the day, sleep during the night, who talk their nonsense, get married, grow old, complacently drag their dead to the cemetery; but we don't see or hear those who suffer, and the horrors of life go on somewhere behind the scenes. Everything is quiet, peaceful, and only mute statistics protest: so many gone mad, so many buckets drunk, so many children dead of malnutrition... And this order is obviously necessary; obviously the happy man feels good only because the unhappy bear their burden silently, and without that silence happiness would be impossible. It's a general hypnosis. At the door of every happy, contented man somebody should stand with a little hammer, constantly tapping, to remind him that unhappy people exist, that however happy he may be, sooner or later life will show him its claws, some calamity will befall him--illness, poverty, loss--and nobody will hear or see, just as he doesn't hear or see others now. But there is nobody with a little hammer, the happy man lives on, and the petty cares of life stir him only slightly, as wind stirs an aspen--a #Quote by Anton Chekhov

#3. In the space of less than seven days, I attended a track meet in Boston, flew from there to Bowling Green for the National Jaycees, then to Rochester for the blind, Buffalo for another track meet, New York to shoot a film called The Black Athlete, Miami for Ford Motor Company, back up to New York for 45 minutes to deliver a speech, then into L. A. for another the same night. #Quote by Jesse Owens

#4. Wherever snow falls, or water flows, or birds fly, wherever day and night meet in twilight, wherever the blue heaven is hung by clouds, or sown with stars, wherever are forms with transparent boundaries, wherever are outlets into celestial space, wherever is danger, and awe, and love, there is Beauty, plenteous as rain, shed for thee, and though thou shouldest walk the world over, thou shalt not be able to find a condition inopportune or ignoble. #Quote by Ralph Waldo Emerson

#5. The moon occurs more frequently than the sun as an image in lyric poetry. There is a greater contrast between the moon and the night sky than there is between the sun and the daytime sky. And this contrast is more conducive to sorrow, which always separates or isolates itself, than it is to happiness, which always joins or blends. And to stand face-to-face with the sun is preposterous -- it would blind you. The moon has no light of its own; our apprehension of it is but a reflection of the sun. And some believe artists reflect the creative powers of some original impulse too great to name. The moon is the incunabulum of photography, the first photograph, the first stilled moment, the first study in contrasts. Me here -- you there. Between 1969 and 1972, six missions left for the moon and six missions came back. The men who went to the moon who were forever altered without exception all say the same thing -- it was not being on the moon that profoundly affected them as much as it was looking at the earth from the vantage point of the moon. You there -- me here. #Quote by Mary Ruefle

#6. I kept driving for a while, then stopped on the side of the road. Shining my brights on the road in front of me, I watched out for Leatherface while dialing Marlboro Man on my car phone. My pulse was rapid out of sheer terror and embarrassment; my face was hot. Lost and helpless on a county road the same night I'd emotionally decompensated in his kitchen--this was not exactly the image I was dying to project to this new man in my life. But I had no other option, short of continuing to drive aimlessly down one generic road after another or parking on the side of the road and going to sleep, which really wasn't an option at all, considering Norman Bates was likely wandering around the area. With Ted Bundy. And Charles Manson. And Grendel.
Marlboro Man answered, "Hello?" He must have been almost asleep.
"Um…um…hi," I said, squinting in shame.
"Hey there," he replied.
"This is Ree," I said. I just wanted to make sure he knew.
"Yeah…I know," he said.
"Um, funniest thing happened," I continued, my hands in a death grip on the steering wheel. "Seems I got a little turned around and I'm kinda sorta maybe perhaps a little tiny bit lost."
He chuckled. "Where are you?"
"Um, well, that's just it," I replied, looking around the utter darkness for any ounce of remaining pride. "I don't really know."
Marlboro Man assumed control, telling me to drive until I found an intersection, then read him the numbers on the small green county road sign, numb #Quote by Ree Drummond

#7. He couldn't know that I'd overstayed my welcome one night while creeping through his megaron and had crawled up through the space where the pipes of the hypocaust ran to hide in his treasure room. I had slept for a day in stuffy darkness on the ridged tops of his treasure trunks. #Quote by Megan Whalen Turner

#8. The second call

The first call is frequently to follow Jesus or to prepare ourselves to do wonderful and noble things for the Kingdom. We are appreciated and admired by family, by friends or by the community. The second call comes later, when we accept that we cannot do big or heroic things for Jesus; it is a time of renunciation, humiliation and humility. We feel useless; we are no longer appreciated. If the first passage is made at high noon, under a shining sun, the second call is often made at night. We feel alone and are afraid because we are in a world of confusion. We begin to doubt the commitment we made in the light of day. We seem deeply broken in some way. But this suffering is not useless. Through the renunciation we can reach a new wisdom of love. It is only through the pain of the cross that we discover what the resurrection means. #Quote by Jean Vanier

#9. The curtains were not yet drawn and with the moonlight spreading across the room, I could see clearly. I undressed and slipped a soft cotton gown over my naked body. I pulled the blanket off the foot of my bed, covered my shoulders and wa ... lked out on the balcony. The cool night air blowing through my hair served as a reminder that only a hint of summer remained in this year of 1860. #Quote by Nancy B. Brewer

#10. We usually bring her helmet with us, but we left it back in the hotel room this time."
I gasp. I also try to decide what kind of flowers I'll bring to her funeral after I strangle the life from her body. I should have stayed in Jersey, like Mom said. Shouldn't have come here with Chloe and her parents. What business do I have in Florida? We live on the Jersey Shore. If you've seen one beach, you've seen them all, right?
But noooooooo. I had to come and spend the last of my summer with Chloe, because this would be our last summer together before college, blah-blah-blah. And now she's taking revenge on me for not letting her use my ID to get a tattoo last night. But what did she expect? I'm white and she's black. I'm not even tan-white. I'm Canadian-tourist white. If the guy could mistake her for me, then he shouldn't be giving anyone a tattoo, right? I was just protecting her. Only, she doesn't realize that. I can tell by that look in her eyes-the same look she wore when she replaced my hand sanitizer with personal lubricant-that she's about to take what's left of my pride and kick it like a donkey.
"Uh, we didn't get your name. Did you get his name, Emma?" she asks, as if on cue.
"I tried, Chloe. But he wouldn't tell me, so I tackled him," I say, rolling my eyes.
The guy smirks. This almost-smile hints at how breathtaking a real one would be. The tingling flares up again, and I rub my arms. #Quote by Anna Banks

#11. Read poems to yourself in the middle of the night. Turn on a single lamp and read them while you're alone in an otherwise dark room or while someone else sleeps next to you. Read them when you're wide awake in the early morning, fully alert. Say them over to yourself in a place where silence reigns and the din of the culture - the constant buzzing noise that surrounds us - has momentarily stopped. These poems have come from a great distance to find you. #Quote by Edward Hirsch

#12. She touched him, placing her hand over his curled fingers, straightening them so that they were palm to palm, then she interlaced her fingers with his. Her fingertips were icy. A silent, dangerous thrill coursed through him. He wanted to pull her atop him and show her what awaited a foolish young woman who slipped into a man's bedroom in the dead of the night after having devoured him all evening with those dark, intense eyes of hers, setting his blood to simmer over three long hours. #Quote by Sherry Thomas

#13. A porpoise sounded twenty yards away from us in an explosion of breath, startling us. . . . Then another porpoise broke the water and rolled toward us. A third and a fourth porpoise neared the board and we could feel great secret shapes eyeing us from below. I reached out to touch the back of one, its skin the color of jade, but as I reached the porpoise dove and my hand touched moonlight where the dorsal fin had been cutting through the silken waters. The dolphins had obviously smelled the flood tide of boyhood in the sea and heard the hormones singing in the boy0scented water. None of us spoke as the porpoises circled us. The visitation was something so rare and perfect that we knew by instinct not to speak – and then, as quickly as they had come, the porpoises moved away from us, moved south where there were fish to be hunted.
"Each of us would remember that night floating on the waves all during our lives. It was the year before we went to high school when we were poised on the slippery brink between childhood and adulthood, admiring our own daring as we floated free from the vigilance and approval of adult eyes, ruled only by the indifference of stars and fate. It was the purest moment of freedom and headlong exhilaration that I had ever felt. A wordless covenant was set among us the night of the porpoises. #Quote by Pat Conroy

#14. You could then use the dream to learn more about yourself, others, the world, and the nature of life. You can come awake in the matrix and realize you're the one in your own dream. People on the spiritual path can do that, thus they can avoid wasting the whole night, and use it in a developmental, nice way. #Quote by Robert Thurman

#15. The Nausea has stayed down there, in the yellow light. I am happy: this cold is so pure, this night so pure: am I myself not a wave of icy air? With neither blood, nor lymph, nor flesh. Flowing down this long canal towards the pallor down there. To be nothing but coldness. #Quote by Jean-Paul Sartre

#16. When you're starving or wrapped up in a cycle of binge-ing-and-purging, or sexually obsessed with (someone), it is very hard to think about anything else, very hard to see the larger picture of options that is your life, very hard to consider what else you might need or want or fear were you not so intently focused on one crushing passion. I sat in my room every night, with rare exceptions, for three and a half years ... #Quote by Caroline Knapp

#17. I suppose cats have sayings like ... "A dead mouse ... has no entertainment value." How's that? Doesn't exactly trip off the tongue, does it? Okay, how about ... "Red sky at night, time for a nap ... red sky in the morning ... time for a nap. #Quote by Dave McKean

#18. Schwarzenegger said last night on the show he expects his opponents to throw all kinds of dirt at him. And you know, it's started already. Today, they released the one thing that could really hurt Arnold. Turns out he once starred in a movie with Tom Arnold. #Quote by Jay Leno

#19. Why do you wear gloves, Mister Brekker?"
Kaz raised a brow. "I'm sure you've heard the stories."
"Each more grotesque than the last."
Kaz had heard them, too. Brekker's hands were stained with blood. Brekker's hands were covered in scars. Brekker had claws and not fingers because he was part demon. Brekker's touch burned like brimstone - a single brush of his bare skin caused your flesh to wither and die.
"Pick one," Kaz said as he vanished into the night, thoughts already turning to thirty million kruge and the crew he'd need to help him get it. "They're all true enough. #Quote by Leigh Bardugo

#20. Limper flopped violently. The gag flew out of his mouth. His ankle bonds parted. He gained his feet, tried to run, tried to mouth some spell that would protect him. He had gone thirty feet when a thousand fiery snakes streaked out of the night and swarmed him. They covered his body. They slithered into his mouth and nose, into his eyes and ears. They went in the easy way and came gnawing out through his back and chest and belly. And he screamed. And screamed. And screamed. #Quote by Glen Cook

#21. Oh, no! I haven't lost hope at all! Look, we're all here–we're all having a good time on Sunday night! I just read you a lot of depressing shit like that and talk about these things because you have to think about them sometimes. I haven't lost hope at all. There's going to be abortion; there's going to be health care; there's going to be medical marijuana; there's going to be peace in the world; there's going to be homosexual marriage: all this is going to happen, because all the generation that hates it and is against it and is fervent about it is going to die. I may not get to see it, but . . . The people who are young right now don't care about any of those things: they care about technology; they care about eating; they care about learning. They're curious; they want to find out things; they want the world to be bigger; they want to know about other people in other places; they want to inform themselves and use analytical thinking; they don't trust the traditional media sources that we've all been poisoned to fucking listen to like the television and the newspapers and all the shit that comes up on the Internet: they learn to fucking discern because they have to pick out pieces of information all the time. So, I have nothing but fucking hope for the world. #Quote by Greg Proops

#22. I absolutely love doing games in Baton Rouge. Night games in Tiger Stadium are a spectacle and the food choices all around are fantastic! One thing is certain: if I ever choose to feature a tailgating spread for Taste of the Town, LSU will be at the top of the list. #Quote by Todd Blackledge

#23. Words had failed us that night, and I'd welcomed the silence. Words had escaped me the next morning as well but in a different way, when I came to realize that I was married to a fisherman for the rest of my days."--Abigail Whimble, Return to the Outer Banks House #Quote by Diann Ducharme

#24. Look at all the resources around you before you make a decision. Look for ways to make your environment work for you. The solution to your most impossible problem might be right there in front of you. As obvious as a full Moon is on a dark night. #Quote by C.D. Sutherland

#25. So they've tried to turn into new men, but that's no good either, because now we're telling them to be masculine. we don't just want them in a pair of marigolds cleaning the oven, that's not good enough. we want them to take control, to whisk us off to hotels, buy us dinner, and make mad, passionate love to us all night. we want it all ways. women want to be feminists and romantics. we want them to be heroes and handy with the vacuum. no wonder the poor guys are confused' -trudy #Quote by Alexandra Potter

#26. I AM come of a race noted for vigor of fancy and ardor of passion. Men have called me mad; but the question is not yet settled, whether madness is or is not the loftiest intelligence
whether much that is glorious
whether all that is profound
does not spring from disease of thought
from moods of mind exalted at the expense of the general intellect. They who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night. In their gray visions they obtain glimpses of eternity, and thrill, in waking, to find that they have been upon the verge of the great secret. In snatches, they learn something of the wisdom which is of good, and more of the mere knowledge which is of evil. They penetrate, however, rudderless or compassless into the vast ocean of the "light ineffable", and again, like the adventures of the Nubian geographer, "agressi sunt mare tenebrarum, quid in eo esset exploraturi".
We will say then, that I am mad. #Quote by Edgar Allan Poe

#27. Do I as a Christian understand myself? Do I know my own real identity? My own real destiny? I am a child of God, God is my Father; heaven is my home; every day is one day nearer. My Saviour is my brother; every Christian is my brother too. Say it over and over again to yourself first thing in the morning, last thing at night, as you wait for the bus, any time when your mind is free, and ask God that you may be enabled to live as one who knows it is all utterly and completely true. For this is the Christians secret of the Christian life, of a God-honouring life. #Quote by J.I. Packer

#28. I could stay in every night for the rest of my life and my mother still wouldn't be happy. In fact, maybe she'd be better off if I finally did go out and meet a grand demise. Get the waiting game over with. Because, as my mother will tell you, there are worse things than having your daughter abducted. There's getting her back and realizing you've lost her after all. #Quote by Lisa Gardner

#29. In a bitter night, a mustard night that was last night, a good thought came and the dark was sweetened when the day sat down. And this thought went from evening star to the late dipper on the edge of the first light
that our betters spoke of. #Quote by John Steinbeck

#30. Luceo non uro means I shine, not burn. To me, though, it means that I have a choice. I need to balance the bad with the good, make sure to avoid the things that could burn or scar me but get close enough to the heat that I feel life and really experience it. Until I met you, I'd never really embraced that idea. I walked around my life just being there, but not really feeling it or being actively involved in making it worthwhile. Then there was you, and suddenly it all made sense. I grabbed onto what Fortune was offering me that night and ran with it. I was shining that night, for sure. Brighter than the Vegas strip. #Quote by Elle Casey

#31. She didn't do anything at all
except arrived without warning
in the middle of the night
(right when I least expected it)

She walked by me, with a strut in her step
smelling like summer
causing me to turn my head
(even the leaves swayed her way)

All she did was look at me
with bright, curious eyes
filled with mirth and secrets
(as if an adventure was about to happen)

I tried not to think of her at all
not the curves of her body
or the stories that she told
(you knew there'd never be dull conversations)

By then, I couldn't walk away
I got caught up in her storm
without a care in the world
(I was a very good swimmer)

She was a hurricane who created her own sunshine. #Quote by M.J. Abraham

#32. Up on the bridge of the Anubis, the storm paws loudly on the glass, great wet flippers falling at random in out of the night whap! the living shape visible just for the rainbow edge of the sound - it takes a certain kind of maniac, at least a Polish cavalry officer, to stand in this pose behind such brittle thin separation, and stare each blow full in its muscularity. Behind Procalowski the clinometer bob goes to and fro with his ship's rolling: a pendulum in a dream. Stormlight has turned the lines of his face black, black as his eyes, black as the watchcap cocked so tough and salty aslant the furrows of his forehead. Light clusters, clear, deep, on the face of the radio gear . . . fans up softly off the dial of the pelorus . . . spills out portholes onto the white river. #Quote by Thomas Pynchon

#33. Big night of television tonight for Barack Obama. Earlier tonight, Barack Obama aired a half-hour infomercial to attract more voters. Yeah. Yeah, and apparently, if you watched the entire infomercial, Barack threw in a free set of Ginsu knives for you. #Quote by Conan O'Brien

#34. He desired her and, so far as her virginal emotions went, she contemplated a surrender with equanimity. Yet she knew she would forget him half an hour after she left him - like an actor kissed in a picture. #Quote by F Scott Fitzgerald

#35. I have seen the coming of the dawn.
Unconcernedly watching the passing of the day,
Whiled away my hours in joyful play-
I live to simply sing the song of love
And play the music of my heart-
Dancing and playing in the light,
I am filled with passion and delight.
My voice is free.
It rises and floats away from me-
I am unable to escape these walls.
My body will not float like my song's plaintive calls.
Only in my mind I float free as my song
And I fly to a home where I belong.
There, those who know my heart well
Sing, sing, sing with my song's spell-
They snatched my voice,
Held me against my choice.
I forget all that was mine
Yet I reach to dream it one last time.
I struggle to the last
But my light is fading fast,
A lone warrior waging a brutal fight
Against an endless night.
I fight for escape even if the notes of this song
Are only the part of me to leave.
I rise up out of here,
Reaching for the things I hold dear.
I will not stay silent,
I shall not remain still.
I sing. I sing to the end. #Quote by Victoria Forester

#36. Whiles in the early Winter eve We pass amid the gathering night Some homestead that we had to leave Years past; and see its candles bright Shine in the room beside the door Where we were merry years agone But now must never enter more, As still the dark road drives us on. E'en so the world of men may turn At even of some hurried day And see the ancient glimmer burn Across the waste that hath no way; Then with that faint light in its eyes A while I bid it linger near And nurse in wavering memories The bitter-sweet of days that were. #Quote by William Morris

#37. Beauty and the Illiterate"

Often, in the Repose of Evening her soul took a lightness from
the mountains across, although the day was harsh and
tomorrow foreign.

But, when it darkened well and out came the priest's hand over
the little garden of the dead, She

Alone, Standing, with the few domestics of the night - the blowing
rosemary and the murmur of smoke from the kilns -
at sea's entry, wakeful

Otherly beauty!

Only the waves' words half-guessed or in a rustle, and others
resembling the dead's that startle in the cypress, strange
zodiacs that lit up her magnetic moon-turned head.
And one

Unbelievable cleanliness allowed, to great depth in her, the real
landscape to be seen,

Where, near the river, the dark ones fought against the Angel,
exactly showing how she's born, Beauty

Or what we otherwise call tear.

And long as her thinking lasted, you could feel it overflow the
glowing sight bitterly in the eyes and the huge, like an
ancient prostitute's, cheekbones

Stretched to the extreme points of the Large Dog and of the Virgin.

"Far from the pestilential city I dreamed of her deserted plac #Quote by Odysseus Elytis

#38. And most of all, I wanted to my Kash. I wanted to be wrapped in his arms in our bed. I wanted to go back to the night of the whipped cream war, and beg him to stay home with me so none of this would happened. I wanted to a way to tell him I was okay. I wanted to know that I was going to see him again. And I wanted to know if he was trying to find me. #Quote by Molly McAdams

#39. The God Who Loves You"

It must be troubling for the god who loves you
To ponder how much happier you'd be today
Had you been able to glimpse your many futures.
It must be painful for him to watch you on Friday evenings
Driving home from the office, content with your week -
Three fine houses sold to deserving families -
Knowing as he does exactly what would have happened
Had you gone to your second choice for college,
Knowing the roommate you'd have been allotted
Whose ardent opinions on painting and music
Would have kindled in you a lifelong passion.
A life thirty points above the life you're living
On any scale of satisfaction. And every point
A thorn in the side of the god who loves you.
You don't want that, a large-souled man like you
Who tries to withhold from your wife the day's disappointments
So she can save her empathy for the children.
And would you want this god to compare your wife
With the woman you were destined to meet on the other campus?
It hurts you to think of him ranking the conversation
You'd have enjoyed over there higher in insight
Than the conversation you're used to.
And think how this loving god would feel
Knowing that the man next in line for your wife
Would have pleased her more than you ever will
Even on your best days, when you really try.
Can you sleep at night believing a god like tha #Quote by Carl Dennis

#40. She was in the right place at the right time last night, safe inside when the tree came down.
One thing different - an extra piece of sandpaper outside when she needed it, the tree falling a bit sooner - and she would be gone. One thing different - hitting a red light instead of a green one on the way to the freeway, choosing another errand to run that day - and my dad and Ben would still be here.
It's not right that something so big, your entire life, depends on a million tiny things. #Quote by Ally Condie

#41. And now that it's legit, I am gonna hammer you," Stitch's grin widened and in one abrupt move, he arched his hips and threw Zak over to his back while still holding on to his legs. "All night. And then the night after… and after…" He lapped at Zak's neck.
Every single nerve in Zak's body stood alert, as if waiting for Stitch's command. Zak moaned, feeling a rush of heat to his face, and rapidly pulled on the sides of Stitch's cut. The moment his lover's weight collapsed on top of him, he knew there wasn't anything he wanted more #Quote by K.A. Merikan

#42. I had a thing for you since the night of that first fight."
"What?" I said with a dubious expression.
"It's true. You in that cardigan with blood all over you?
You looked absolutely ridiculous," he chuckled.
"Thanks. #Quote by Jamie McGuire

#43. But I want to extol not the sweetness nor the placidity of the dog, but the wilderness out of which he cannot step entirely, and from which we benefit. For wilderness is our first home too, and in our wild ride into modernity with all its concerns and problems we need also all the good attachments to that origin that we can keep or restore. Dog is one of the messengers of that rich and still magical first world. The dog would remind us of the pleasures of the body with its graceful physicality, and the acuity and rapture of the senses, and the beauty of forest and ocean and rain and our own breath. There is not a dog that romps and runs but we learn from him.

The other dog - the one that all its life walks leashed and obedient down the sidewalk - is what a chair is to a tree. It is a possession only, the ornament of a human life. Such dogs can remind us of nothing large or noble or mysterious or lost. They cannot make us sweeter or more kind.

Only unleashed dogs can do that. They are a kind of poetry themselves when they are devoted not only to us but to the wet night, to the moon and the rabbit-smell in the grass and their own bodies leaping forward. #Quote by Mary Oliver

#44. I was working in the lab late one night When my eyes beheld an eerie sight For my monster from his slab began to rise And suddenly to my surprise ... He did the mash He did the monster mash The monster mash It was a graveyard smash ... #Quote by Bobby Pickett

#45. I wouldn't describe myself as a do-gooder. That's really more my wife. I'm kind of just the obsessed guy who's been writing and making movies since I was a little kid, just in a room and make it. #Quote by M. Night Shyamalan