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Clouds come floating into my life, no longer to carry rain or usher storm, but to add color to my sunset sky.
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color
beauty
inspirational
assurance
clouds
aspiration
maturity
conviction
sunset
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Rabindranath Tagore |
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Dusk is just an illusion because the sun is either above the horizon or below it. And that means that day and night are linked in a way that few things are there cannot be one without the other yet they cannot exist at the same time. How would it feel I remember wondering to be always together yet forever apart?
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sunset
separation
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Nicholas Sparks |
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Twilight fell: The sky turned to a light, dusky purple littered with tiny silver stars.
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sunset
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J.K. Rowling |
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Can you see the sunset real good on the West side? You can see it on the East side too.
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geography
sunset
sun
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S.E. Hinton |
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Soon it got dusk, a grapy dusk, a purple dusk over tangerine groves and long melon fields; the sun the color of pressed grapes, slashed with burgandy red, the fields the color of love and Spanish mysteries.
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color
sunset
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Jack Kerouac |
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A large drop of sun lingered on the horizon and then dripped over and was gone, and the sky was brilliant over the spot where it had gone, and a torn cloud, like a bloody rag, hung over the spot of its going. And dusk crept over the sky from the eastern horizon, and darkness crept over the land from the east.
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sunset
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John Steinbeck |
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I can't give you the sunset, but I can give you the night.
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romantic
vegas-vampires
sunset
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Erin McCarthy |
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And though I came to forget or regret all I have ever done, yet I would remember that once I saw the dragons aloft on the wind at sunset above the western isles; and I would be content.
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sunset
dragons
reminiscence
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Ursula K. Le Guin |
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"And yet day and night meet fleetingly at twilight and dawn," he said, lowering his voice again and narrowing his eyes and moving his head a quarter of an inch closer to hers. "And their merging sometimes affords the beholder the most enchanted moments of all the twenty four hours. A sunrise or sunset can be ablaze with brilliance and arouse all the passion, all the yearning, in the soul of the beholder."
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sunset
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Mary Balogh |
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The moon went slowly down in loveliness; she departed into the depth of the horizon, and long veil-like shadows crept up the sky through which the stars appeared. Soon, however, they too began to pale before a splendour in the east, and the advent of the dawn declared itself in the newborn blue of heaven. Quieter and yet more quiet grew the sea, quiet as the soft mist that brooded on her bosom, and covered up her troubling, as in our tempestuous life the transitory wreaths of sleep brook upon a pain-racked soul, causing it to forget its sorrow. From the east to the west sped those angels of the Dawn, from sea to sea, from mountain-top to mountain-top, scattering light from breast and wing. On they sped out of the darkness, perfect, glorious; on, over the quiet sea, over the low coast-line, and the swamps beyond, and the mountains above them; over those who slept in peace and those who woke in sorrow; over the evil and the good; over the living and the dead; over the wide world and all that breathes or as breathed thereon.
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stars
life
moon
heavens
horizon
mist
setting
observation
sunset
place
dusk
sea
night
sunrise
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H. Rider Haggard |
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One might fancy that day, the London day, was just beginning. Like a woman who had slipped off her print dress and white apron to array herself in blue and pearls, the day changed, put off stuff, took gauze, changed to evening, and with the same sigh of exhilaration that a woman breathes, tumbling petticoats on the floor, it too shed dust, heat, colour; the traffic thinned; motor cars, tinkling, darting, succeeded the lumber of vans; and here and there among the thick foliage of the squares an intense light hung. I resign, the evening seemed to say, as it paled and faded above the battlements and prominences, moulded, pointed, of hotel, flat, and block of shops, I fade, she was beginning. I disappear, but London would have none of it, and rushed her bayonets into the sky, pinioned her, constrained her to partnership in her revelry.
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revelry
sunset
party
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Virginia Woolf |
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Just don't forget that some of us watch the sunset too.
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sunset
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S.E. Hinton |
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It was growing dark on this long southern evening, and suddenly, at the exact point her finger had indicated, the moon lifted a forehead of stunning gold above the horizon, lifted straight out of filigreed, light-intoxicated clouds that lay on the skyline in attendant veils. Behind us, the sun was setting in a simultaneous congruent withdrawal and the river turned to flame in a quiet duel of gold....The new gold of moon astonishing and ascendant, he depleted gold of sunset extinguishing itself in the long westward slide, it was the old dance of days in the Carolina marshes, the breathtaking death of days before the eyes of children, until the sun vanished, its final signature a ribbon of bullion strung across the tops of water oaks.
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memories
nature
moon
south-carolina
sunset
sun
twilight
childhood
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Pat Conroy |
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Tonight the sun has died like an Emperor ... great scarlet arcs of silk ... saffron ... green ... crimson ... and the blaze of Venus to remind one of the absolute and the infinite ... and along the lower rim of beauty lay the hard harsh line of the hills ...
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natural-world
imagery
sunset
silk
description
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John Coldstream |
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The evening sky was awash with peach, apricot, cream: tender little ice-cream clouds in a wide orange sky.
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sunset
sky
description
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Philip Pullman |
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But I know Jesus arose. I feel his presence now, here, with me. I see the evidence of his Word everyday. From creation forth, the whole world is witness to God's plan revealed through his Son. From the beginning, he prepared us. In the passing of the seasons; in the way flowers spring forth, die, and drop seeds for life to begin again; in the sunset and sunrise. Jesus' sacrifice is reenacted every day of our lives if we but have the eyes to see.
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seasons
jesus
sacrifice
god
witness
sunset
evidence
flowers
die
eyes
sunrise
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Francine Rivers |
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An intense copper calm, like a universal yellow lotus, was more and more unfolding its noiseless measureless leaves upon the sea.
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nature
sunset
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Herman Melville |
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Meanwhile the sunsets are mad orange fools raging in the gloom....
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orange
gloom
sunset
twilight
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Jack Kerouac |
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Oh, I forgot to tell you the rest of it --he's a widower now, so they can ride off together into the sunset, their wedding rings glinting.
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marriage
love
sunset
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Brenda Joyce |
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Now it was close to sunset and the earth was beginning to cool off in the manner of eternity and office girls were returning like penguins from Montgomery Street.
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sunset
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Richard Brautigan |
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The sun stooped to the western waves, entering his bath of blood-red fire. He sank, and all the ways were darkened.
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sunset
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E.R. Eddison |
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In her mind's eye, they seemed to glimmer until the connections had so many ties that the world appeared to be brighter. It was a golden light in her mind.
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light
world
sunset
summer
ocean
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Sharon Brubaker |
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The sunset was a massive canvas of gold and orange, green and rose, gray and indigo and blue. It reminded him of beaches on the North American west coast, except there were no vendors clogging the place and no advertising drones muttering about the joys of commerce.
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north-america
west-coast
commerce
sunset
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James S.A. Corey |
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The sun is on its descent as I watch it, its lustrous red-gold colors making the blue water beneath it look as if it is on fire. The sound of Rachmaninov's Piano Concerto No. 3 drifts across the terrace, reaching a zenith as the sun plunges gracefully into the sea. This is my favorite moment of the day here, when nature itself seems to be still, watching the spectacle of the King of the Day, the force it relies upon to grow and flourish, make its journey into sleep. We are able to be here together far less than I'd like, so the moment is even more precious. The sun has gone now, so I can close my eyes and listen to Xavier playing. I have performed this concerto a hundred times, and I'm struck by the subtle differences, the nuances that make his rendition his own. Its stronger, more masculine, which is, of course, how it should be.
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sunset
piano
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Lucinda Riley |