Blinding Light Songs Quotes

#1. You have a light in you that's almost blinding. But in me there's only darkness. Sometimes I think it's like the darkness that infected you that night in the inn when you began to cry and to tremble. You were so helpless, so unprepared for it. I try to keep the darkness from you because I need your light. I need it desperately, but you don't need the darkness. #Quote by Anne Rice

#2. The snow here hadn't thawed. Its large, rough crystals were filled with the blue of the lake-water. But on the sunny side of the hill the snow was just beginning to melt. The ditch beside the path was full of gurgling water. The glitter of the snow, the water and the ice on the puddles was quite blinding. There was so much light, it was so intense, that they seemed almost to have to force their way through it. It disturbed them and got in their way; when they stepped on the thin film of ice over the puddles, it seemed to be light that was crunching under their feet, breaking up into thin, splinter-like rays. And it was light that was flowing down the ditch beside the path; where the path was blocked by stones, the light swelled up, foaming and gurgling. The spring sun seemed to be closer to the earth than ever. The air was cool and warm at the same time. #Quote by Vasily Grossman

#3. How is that light still on, Talbot?" BT asked in hushed tones with a note of reverence in his voice. "There's a machine with Kit-Kats in there, do you have any change, Mr. T?" Tommy asked hopefully. It's amazing to me that all of us had known Tommy long enough that nobody even looked halfway cross-eyed at him at his pronouncement. If Tommy had said that a convention of clowns respite with balloon animals was in there singing Billy Joel songs, we would all have believed him. Of course I wouldn't have gone in, clowns are evil, but I still would have believed him. #Quote by Mark Tufo

#4. Love, all at once and much, much too completely. It's like you suddenly turn a blinding light on something that had always been half a shadow ... #Quote by Tennessee Williams

#5. How many crooked, out-of-the-way, narrow, impassable, and devious paths has humanity chosen in the attempt to attain eternal truth, while before it the straight road lay open...It is wider and more open and resplendent than all other paths, lying as it does in the full glare of the sun, and lit up by many lights in the night, but men have streamed past it in blind darkness. And how many times...have they still managed to swerve away from it and go astray, have managed in the broad light of day to get into the impassable out-of-the-way places again, have managed again to throw a blinding mist over each other's eyes, and running after will-o'-the-wisps have managed to reach the brink of the precipice only to ask themselves with horror: 'Where is the way out? Where is the road?' The present generation sees everything clearly, it is amazed and laughs at the folly of its ancestors...and self-confidently enters on a fresh set of errors at which their descendants will laugh again later on. #Quote by Nikolai Gogol

#6. It was from us they learnt the secret of life: that we grow old without growing wise. They realized that nothing happened when we grew up: no blinding light on the road to Damascus, no sudden feeling of maturity. #Quote by John Le Carre

#7. Because the light of evolution is not instantaneous or blinding, it is difficult to visualize the immensely slow and gradual change that is brought about by mutation and natural selection. When you consider a protozoan cell or an amphibian, on the one hand, and dolphins or, say, commuters, on the other, there is no intuitive way to make sense of the line that runs from one form of life to the next.

The popular cartoon of evolution, where the ape slowly unbends, straightens up, starts walking, and mutates into some form of modern-day human, is probably the easiest way to think about it. But [...] this caricature is misleading. Evolution does not follow the course of a single line. The tree of life bristles with stems, boughs, and branches. Most lines from one form to another are densely surrounded by branches leading to different species or dead ends. #Quote by Christine Kenneally

#8. Not that I haven't leaped up into the blinding light of competence now and then. It's sustaining the altitude that defeats me. #Quote by Lois McMaster Bujold

#9. My own interest is the responsibility of people to be responsible for their own lives and, with their neighbors, for their public space and actions. To sing their own songs. To make their own inventions..To build and not just to envy. To light that candle which is so much better than cursing the darkness. To be as much as the human condition can sustain, rather than being only what a system can allow. #Quote by Karl Hess

#10. There are many ways to experience love. It can feel like a knife in your back, or it can feel like you're being lifted up by winged creatures towards a beautiful blinding light. #Quote by Brandon Boyd

#11. I actually had a week where I literally wrote four songs and all of them are on my album. But sometimes you'll go a week where you'll write songs and they never see the light of day. So that process takes a long time. #Quote by Laura Bell Bundy

#12. There was a blinding flash of magnesium and a smell of singed hair and dust. A green light flared in the boar's glass eye. #Quote by Linda Lappin

#13. These are thy glorious works Parent of Good, Almighty, thine this universal Frame, Thus wondrous fair; thy self how wondrous then! Unspeakable, who sitst above these Heavens To us invisible or dimly seen In these thy lowest works, yet these declare Thy goodness beyond thought, and Power Divine: Speak ye who best can tell, ye Sons of light, Angels, for ye behold him, and with songs And choral symphonies, Day without Night, Circle his Throne rejoicing, ye in Heav'n, On Earth join all ye Creatures to extoll Him first, him last, him midst, and without end. #Quote by John Milton

#14. I've gotten my Phosphor to work at last." Henry proudly brandished the object. "It functions on the principle of witchlight but is five times more powerful. Merely press a button, and you will see a blaze of light the like of which you have never imagined."
There was a silence. "So," said Will finally, "it's a very, very bright witchlight, then?"
"Exactly," Henry said.
"Is that useful, precisely?" Jem inquired. "After all, witchlight is just for illumination. It's not as if it's dangerous… ."
"Wait till you see it!" Henry replied. He held up the object. "Watch."
Will moved to object, but it was too late; Henry had already pressed the button. There was a blinding flare of light and a whooshing sound, and the room was plunged into blackness. Tessa gave a yelp of surprise, and Jem laughed softly.
"Am I blind?" Will's voice floated out of the darkness, tinged with annoyance. "I'm not going to be at all pleased if you've blinded me, Henry."
"No." Henry sounded worried. "No, the Phosphor seems to - Well, it seems to have turned all the lights in the room off."
"It's not supposed to do that?" Jem sounded mild, as always.
"Er," said Henry, "no. #Quote by Cassandra Clare

#15. What we try to do with all of our albums, is live out our musical fantasies in the most honest fashion we know how ... We want to include songs that lyrically cover subjects ranging from the heaviest things we've ever done to light-hearted experiences that can best be presented through sentimental bluesy ballads that are usually good for a chuckle or two. #Quote by Michael Hutchence

#16. We had been seen. The thought stayed with me as I disposed of the leftovers - how could it not? I drove with one eye on the rearview mirror, waiting for the blinding burst of blue light to flare at my bumper and the brief harsh whoop! of a siren. But nothing came; not even after I ditched Valentine's car, climbed into mine, and drove carefully home. Nothing. I was left entirely at liberty, all alone, pursued only by the demons of my imagination. It seemed impossible - someone had seen me at play, as plainly as it was possible to be seen. They had looked at the carefully carved pieces of Valentine, and the happy-weary carver standing above them, and it would not take a differential equation to arrive at a solution to this problem - A plus B equals a seat in Old Sparky for Dexter, and someone had fled with this conclusion in perfect comfort and safety - but they had not called the police? It #Quote by Jeff Lindsay

#17. For a moment she was truly terrified. This was Abbadon the Cruel. The Angel of Destruction. He could and would destroy her if he had to. If he felt like it. He had destroyed worlds before. He had decimated Paradise in the name of the Morningstar.
She trembled in his grasp.
All his gentleness, all his kindness, all the bright shining gorgeousness of his love, he had always given to
someone else. He had adored Gabrielle, had worshiped her, had written her poems and sang her songs, and for Schuyler there were novels and love notes and sweet kisses and furtive tender meetings by a fireplace.
But for his twin, Azrael, he had shown nothing but his anger and violence. His strength and destruction.
He saved the best of himself for those who did not deserve it. Never showed his true face to those damnable Daughters of the Light.
For Azrael, there was only darkness and annihilation.
Rape and carnage.
War and pillage.
A tear escaped from her eye and glittered in the moonlight. #Quote by Melissa De La Cruz

#18. Unending Love

I seem to have loved you in numberless forms, numberless times...
In life after life, in age after age, forever.
My spellbound heart has made and remade the necklace of songs,
That you take as a gift, wear round your neck in your many forms,
In life after life, in age after age, forever.

Whenever I hear old chronicles of love, it's age old pain,
It's ancient tale of being apart or together.
As I stare on and on into the past, in the end you emerge,
Clad in the light of a pole-star, piercing the darkness of time.
You become an image of what is remembered forever.

You and I have floated here on the stream that brings from the fount.
At the heart of time, love of one for another.
We have played along side millions of lovers,
Shared in the same shy sweetness of meeting,
the distressful tears of farewell,
Old love but in shapes that renew and renew forever.

Today it is heaped at your feet, it has found its end in you
The love of all man's days both past and forever:
Universal joy, universal sorrow, universal life.
The memories of all loves merging with this one love of ours -
And the songs of every poet past and forever. #Quote by Rabindranath Tagore

#19. And then, as slowly as the light fades on a calm winter evening, something went out of our relationship. I say that selfishly. Perhaps I started to look for something which had never been there in the first place: passion, romance. I aresay that as I entered my forties I had a sense that somehow life was going past me. I had hardly experienced those emotions which for me have mostly come from reading books or watching television. I suppose that if there was anything unsatisfactory in our marriage, it was in my perception of it - the reality was unchanged. Perhaps I grew up from childhood to manhood too quickly. One minute I was cutting up frogs in the science lab at school, the next I was working for the National Centre for Fisheries Excellence and counting freshwater mussel populations on riverbeds. Somewhere in between, something had passed me by: adolescence, perhaps? Something immature, foolish yet intensely emotive, like those favourite songs I had recalled dimly as if being played on a distant radio, almost too far away to make out the words. I had doubts, yearnings, but I did not know why or what for.
Whenever I tried to analyse our lives, and talk about it with Mary, she would say, 'Darling, you are on the way to becoming one of the leading authorities in the world on caddis fly larvae. Don't allow anything to deflect you from that. You may be rather inadequately paid, certainly compared with me you are, but excellence in any field is an achievement beyond value. #Quote by Paul Torday

#20. As they rolled over the marshes before Venice, he fell back in his seat, windburnt and exhausted, and noticed that the bottle of water, but for its slight and elegant blue tint, was the smoothest, clearest, and most transparent thing he had ever seen. All that was reflected in it was sharp, subdued, and calm. The fields outside, beyond the reeds; the reeds themselves, waving green and yellow; the water, shockingly blue in north light, were clarified, compressed, and preserved within the lens. And if bottles of mineral water could pacify the light of mountains, fields, and the sea, to what painful mysteries would the lens of beauty be opaque? Even death, Alessandro thought, would yield to beauty - if not in fact then in explanation - for the likeness of every great question could be found in forms as simple as songs, and there, if not explicable, they were at least perfectly apprehensible. #Quote by Mark Helprin

#21. In the wake of my broken dreams
In the dirt and the dust and the days that felt like weeks.
I found the person that I'm meant to be
'Cause when I felt like giving up
When death was closing in
I shut my eyes
And black out the darkness with light from inside
I've given more
Than what I've got
I've given all
Of what I'm not
I've watched this war consume all that we could become
Facing my fears in the dark
But if I die
Before it's done
Please take these words
My final thoughts
The only way to shine your light is in the dark.
Never let life kill your spark
This is the fallout
Yeah it's the end of the world
We'll spread the noise to everyone and let them all know you heard
A system meltdown
It's time we expose
The 'cause of chaos is our own
I've given more
Than what I've got
I've given all
Of what I'm not
I've watched this war consume all that we could become
Facing my fears in the dark
But if I die
Before it's done
Please take these words
My final thoughts
The only way to shine your light is in the dark.
Never let life kill your spark
Never let life kill your spark
Never let life kill your spark
Facing my fears in the dark
I've given more
Than what I've got
I've given all
Of what I'm not
I've watched this war consume all that we could become
If I die
Befo #Quote by Crown The Empire

#22. I am a shadow. I walk the wet roads under the dim light of the pale lamps, in the darkest hour of the cold dull nights.
I walk past the silent graveyard of the dead memories, towards the city of chaos plagued with gloom.
I do not exist, but in the eyes of the shattered souls. In the chapter of an old book. In the poem. In the smile of a wrecked and in the tear of a broken spirit.
Listen me in the songs told in the times long forgotten.
Search for me in the churchs and temples, bars and brothels,pitch black nights and the colorless days.
Dive down in your deepest part of your soul. And you will find my home.
I have many faces but I have no face of my own. I am a shadow. #Quote by Foaad Ahmad

#23. One of the benefits of success with new songs is that some of the other songs will get a chance to see the light of day whereas they wouldn't have before. #Quote by Diane Warren

#24. These firecrackers outside and these lights outside cannot make you rejoice. They are only for children; for you, they are just a nuisance. But in your inner world there can be a continuity of lights, songs, joys. Always remember that society compensates you when it feels that the repressed may explode into a dangerous situation if it is not compensated. Society finds some way of allowing you to let out the repressed. But this is not true celebration, and it cannot be true. #Quote by Rajneesh

#25. This house has been far out at sea all night, The woods crashing through darkness, the booming hills, Winds stampeding the fields under the window Floundering black astride and blinding wet Till day rose; then under an orange sky The hills had new places, and wind wielded Blade-light, luminous black and emerald, Flexing like the lens of a mad eye. #Quote by Ted Hughes

#26. As soon as she had gone out, swift, swift light steps sounded on the parquet, and his bliss, his life, himself - what was best in himself, what he had so long sought and longed for - was quickly, so quickly approaching him. She did not walk but seemed, by some unseen force, to float to him. He saw nothing but her clear, truthful eyes, frightened by that same bliss of love that flooded his heart. Those eyes were shining nearer and nearer, blinding him with their light of love. She stopped close to him, touching him. Her hands rose and dropped on his shoulders.
She had done all she could - she had run up to him and given herself up entirely, shyly, blissfully. He put his arms around her and pressed his lips to her mouth that sought his kiss. #Quote by Leo Tolstoy

#27. You know when I first met you, you scared the shit out of me." She pulls a "whoops" face and glances at the minister, who sighs because he knows us well enough to know this is just how we talk. Then she returns her focus to me and clears her throat. "You were so intense and determined to get to know me and I couldn't understand why you would want to, for a lot of reasons, reasons that you know about because you know me better than anyone." Her voice wobbles a little and she lets go of the paper and wipes her sweaty palm on her jacket. "But eventually you sort of wore on me." Her lips quirk and it makes me grin. "You became my light in my dark life and you made me feel so loved that I'd forget how to breathe. You were the only one who could make me laugh, smile, have fun, not give up. You were always there for me and somehow, through the crazy, intense years, you fought your way into my soul and ended up becoming my everything. You became my lifeline, the one person I could rely on no matter what, whether I was upset or pushing you away - you were always there for me. And I love you for it and for the amazing person that you are, for writing me songs and tattooing them on your skin, for wearing a ridiculous O ring on your finger," she says, trying to smile but I can tell she's getting overwhelmed by her emotions. "And for loving me enough not to let me give up, not matter how hard I fought. #Quote by Jessica Sorensen

#28. Logan felt like Icarus. He had never felt so free and blissfully alive as he did whenever he was with her. The closer he got to her the higher and happier he felt. Even at the mention of her name his heart would pound incessantly and all the giddy feelings he didn't quite understand would suddenly reemerge. Every glance upon her blinding beauty cast a shadow upon every other girl for him. Everyone else paled in comparison to her. With every passing moment he had somehow discovered something new and exciting about her. With her by his side he could feel the light breeze flapping against his sides and the warmth of sunshine beating down on his handsome face. This is what it meant to be truly awake. This is what it meant to be in love.
But just like Icarus he had gotten too close and had crashed and burned. As he lay crippled in the aftermath of his own destruction he wondered what hurt more the aching pangs of physical pain his body had been subjected to or the raw burning sensation he felt in his heart. He had gladly given her his heart and in return she threw it back in pieces claiming it wasn't enough. That he wasn't enough. #Quote by Ali Harper

#29. Needless to say, the song ["Hallelujah"] was now a climax in every show [of the 2009 Leonard Cohen tour], received like holy scripture. It belonged in a category with seeing Bob Dylan sing "Like a Rolling Stone" or watching Bruce Springsteen perform "Born to Run" - it was an event that people simply wanted to witness, to say they had seen. It took on a power that had to do with the song's history first, its feeling second, and its details hardly at all. Every performance carried with it a sense of where this song had been, who had sung it,where and how every listener had first encountered it; it had reached a place where it was something to be experienced, rather than listened to. #Quote by Alan Light

#30. The sun was shining, but Christ had hidden Himself, and all the world was black to you; or it was night, and since the bright and morning star was gone, no other star could yield you so much as a ray of light. What a howling wilderness is this world without our Lord! If once He hideth Himself from us, withered are the flowers of our garden; our pleasant fruits decay; the birds suspend their songs, and a tempest overturns our hopes. #Quote by Charles Haddon Spurgeon

#31. Wisps of arctic blue and green and purple buzzed and whirled within those sharp spikes, sending out a wild coruscation of coloured light. The aurora was mesmerizing and blinding at the same time, and little disco balls hoped that they could grow up to be half as brilliant one day. #Quote by Jim Butcher

#32. I can pinpoint the moment when my first band recorded, when I was 14 and 15 years old. I always enjoyed writing songs and playing, but there was something about going in and capturing it that felt very Zen and perfect for me. A light switch went on and I just realized that's where my musical capacity was the most suited. I just followed on blind faith that that was like a calling for me. #Quote by John Congleton

#33. God gave music the power to carry his light into the darkness. That's a mighty privilege. It means intentionally telling stories and writing songs that bear truth that outlasts the songs themselves. If I did this in hopes of thunderous applause and piles of cash, I would have quit years ago. But there are moments on the stage when I sense something magical, a connection with the band and the audience, when our stories intersect and suddenly we're wading in an ancient river. Suddenly the song is secondary to the greater story being told through each of us. #Quote by Andrew Peterson

#34. The boy knelt, shoulders bowed, on the sand in the grey of morning, moaning softly, fearfully. Glowing tendrils of energy streamed across the agitated sky, converging high above him in a vortex of brightness. He flung his hands heavenward and a sheet of blinding brilliance descended from the vortex. It enveloped him and from its core a pulsing sphere of light fell, entering his body and almost tearing him apart. He went rigid, screaming to shatter the heavens, his dark eyes bulging from their sockets, his mouth wide in a rictus of agony. Sirius exploded in a burst of silver-blue radiance, as his howl rose to a shriek beyond hearing and endurance. Out of the light and the sound and the anguish, two names imprinted themselves on his mind. One of them, he knew, was his own.
The other floated for an instant above his consciousness like a fugitive white dove in the morning. #Quote by J. Valor

#35. Light, Amie, can be blinding when it first comes on. Lasers can be deadly, even when streaming from benevolence. We need perspective. We need it to seem wiser than us, tested and tempered by time. #Quote by Laurie Perez

#36. Here again, I follow a light
Because I want to end that night
Because I want to stop the hunger
Because I want to be much stronger
Because, all I ever dreamt to be
Is living a life of boredom free

I find my mind playing a game
To seduce a divine cloud of same
Ones that rain only on meadows
Those who bare no signs of sorrows

I sing and laugh, I dance and leap
I tell her stories of a past too deep
I study her well to know the way
To make her happy, to make her stay

But when she rains and I realize
That she is not what she once was
And that my land did not grow
A plant of love that I don't know

I miss the sun, I miss the wind
And there this cloud's story ends
No more dances, no more songs
There I count all her wrongs

"You have to leave," I tell her why
she has to leave to free my sky
for other clouds, big and divine
will never wait nor stand in line

There again, I follow a light
Because I want to end that night
Because I want to stop the hunger
Because I want to be much stronger
Because, all I ever dreamt to be
Is living a life of boredom free #Quote by Nael Gharzeddine

#37. WE ARE TO PLAY THE GAME OF DEATH

E are to play the game of death to-night, my bride and I.

The night is black, the clouds in the sky are capricious, and the waves are raving at sea.

We have left our bed of dreams, flung open the door and come out, my bride and I.

We sit upon a swing, and the storm winds give us a wild push from behind.

My bride starts up with fear and delight, she trembles and clings to my breast.

Long have I served her tenderly.

I made for her a bed of flowers and I closed the doors to shut out the rude light from her eyes.

I kissed her gently on her lips and whispered softly in her ears till she half swooned in languor.

She was lost in the endless mist of vague sweetness.

She answered not to my touch, my songs failed to arouse her.

To-night has come to us the call of the storm from the wild.

My bride has shivered and stood up, she has clasped my hand and come out.

Her hair is flying in the wind, her veil is fluttering, her garland rustles over her breast.

The push of death has swung her into life.

We are face to face and heart to heart, my bride and I. #Quote by Rabindranath Tagore

#38. The sun glowed behind the monotonous, gray January sky, a tease of light through the heavy hazy. Noah gazed out the window. He hated when the sun shined against the overcast sky creating a white, blinding glare while the ball of yellow remained hidden, a tantalizing possibility without a promise. Maybe it would poke through; maybe it wouldn't. That type of sun was a capricious as a woman. #Quote by Jacqueline Simon Gunn

#39. But what do I love, when I love You? Not beauty of bodies, nor the fair harmony of time. Not the brightness of the light, so welcome to our eyes, Nor sweet melodies of varied songs, Nor the fragrant smell of flowers, and ointments and spices. Not manna and honey, nor the embrace of arms in fleshly pleasure. None of these I love when I love my God. Yet this love is a kind of light and melody and fragrance and meat and embrace. When I love my God, the light, melody, fragrance, meat, and embrace is experienced by my inner man. Love shines into my soul, where space cannot contain it. Love speaks with sound that does not fade into silence with time. Its smells are not dispersed in breath, and its tastes do not grow stale. Love clings, and its satisfaction does not break my connection to the experience. This is it which I love, when I love my God. #Quote by Augustine Of Hippo

#40. Somewhere, a book said once, all the talk ever talked, all the songs ever sung, still lived, had vibrated way out in space and if you could travel to Far Centauri you could hear George Washington talking in his sleep or Caesar surprised at the knife in his back. So much for sounds. What about light then? All things, once seen, they didn't just die, that couldn't be. It must be then that somewhere, searching the world, perhaps in the dripping multiboxed honeycombs where light was an amber sap stored by pollen-fired bees, or in the thirty thousand lenses of the noon dragonfly's gemmed skull you might find all the colors and sights of the world in any one year. Or pour one single drop of this dandelion wine beneath a microscope and perhaps the entire world of July Fourth would firework out in Vesuvius showers. #Quote by Ray Bradbury

#41. Do I have to give you hair torture to get it out of you?"
What is that? From the light in her eyes and the jaunty uptick of her mouth, I had a sense it would be pleasurable. "Do what you must."
In a dash, she pinned my wrists above my head. Her head dipped and her thick hair engulfed me, sweeping across my face and filling my mouth. "Nooo!" I half-heartedly pressed against her hold.
"Give it up, Dane." I could hear the laughter in her voice.
"Never!" I thrashed my head from side to side, trying to breathe through the black curtain blinding and drowning me. "You're killing me!"
"Jeez, you take this even worse than Matty."
I groaned. "With a sister like you, I feel sorry for him."
There was a sharp rap on the door. "Are you okay in there?" China asked.
Lucia glanced at me, and we both cracked up. #Quote by Jennifer Lane

#42. Nothing is as it seems. Black can appear white when the light is blinding but white loses all luster at the faintest sign of darkness. #Quote by Christopher Pike

#43. Alfred T. Slipper was a janitor. Most of the time (often, in fact) they treated him with disdain. They had no idea of the astonishing acts of heroism, the blinding light, contained within his outward humdrum disguise.
Only Alfred's parakeet, Dolores, knew who he was and what he could do. #Quote by Kate DiCamillo

#44. She had thought once that there were good people and bad people, that there was a side of light and a side of darkness, but she no longer thought that. She had seen evil, in her brother and her father, the evil of good intentions gone wrong and the evil of sheer desire for power. But in goodness there was also no safety: Virtue could cut like a knife, and the fire of Heaven was blinding. #Quote by Cassandra Clare

#45. Now I just want to sit down and have someone perform my five favorite songs while I eat a light dinner and receive a simultaneous pedicure. #Quote by Amy Poehler