Let's Call It A Night Quotes & Sayings

I always thought Woody Harrelson is quite a persuasive guy. He's the kind of guy who can call you up in the middle of the night and tell you, 'Let's all go get a donut!' And you're thinking, 'It's the middle of the night,' but somehow you still get up and go get a donut. — Jesse Eisenberg

On this night of the Harvest Moon. They tossed bones into the "Bone Fire" and asked the yellow moon to shine its protection over them. (Today we call it a "Bonfire") — Nancy B. Brewer

Death, thy servant, is at my door. He has crossed the unknown sea and brought thy call to my home.

The night is dark and my heart is fearful---yet I will take up the lamp, open my gates and bow to him my welcome. It is thy messenger who stands at my door.

I will worship him placing at his feet the treasure of my heart.

He will go back with his errand done, leaving a dark shadow on my morning; and in my desolate home only my forlorn self will remain as my last offering to thee. — Rabindranath Tagore

I don't give a shit what people call me as long as I can go to sleep at night. — Stephen King

If he can be call'd meek
who has no wishes
or hiding who needs never
be found
or scared who never
attacks
forgotten, who watches up
the night
If he can be called "he,"
who has no self
Writes "One is All"
On every wall. — Jack Kerouac

I'm not saying parenting cured my narcissism, but it changed me and continues to change me every day. I am now a teeny tiny bit less of a narcissist. Being a parent is a selfless adventure. The worldview of "Take care of yourself first" is no longer logical to a sane person if your baby wakes up hungry in the middle of the night. You can't be like, "What's that? The baby is starving? Eh, forget her, I've got to get some sleep." For me, parenting was literally a wake-up call from my own simple selfishness. In other words, I'm not quite as horrible as I used to be. — Jim Gaffigan

If no one answers your call make a stride and walk alone when everyone is closed and shut Open your mind and speak alone If they turn away and desert and the wild path obstacles exerts trample the thorns no matter the hurt And Alone along blood-lined track traverse If no one holds up the light and a fierce storm troubles the night, with the thunder flame of pain ignite your heart, alone,and let it burn bright These — David Sunder Singh

I don't have 30 days and 30 nights, to show you why all the hoochies say there's nothing finer than Scott Steiner, but all I need is one night to have your wife call me for the rest of her life, the big bad booty daddy, so this goes to all my freaks out there, Big Poppa Pump is your hook up, hollar if you hear me. — Scott Steiner

While the rest of the body is covered, the face is naked. The vulnerability of this nakedness issues a profound call for understanding and compassion. The human face is a meeting place of two unknowns: the infinity of the outer world and the unchartered, inner world to which each individual alone has access. This is the night world that lies behind the brightness of the visage. The smile on a face is a surprise or illumination. It is as if the inner night of this hidden world brightens suddenly, when the smile crosses the face. Heidegger — John O'Donohue

This morning when I looked out the roof window
before dawn and a few stars were still caught
in the fragile weft of ebony night
I was overwhelmed. I sang the song Louis taught me:
a song to call the deer in Creek, when hunting,
and I am certainly hunting something as magic as deer
in this city far from the hammock of my mother's belly.
It works, of course, and deer came into this room
and wondered at finding themselves
in a house near downtown Denver.
Now the deer and I are trying to figure out a song
to get them back, to get all of us back,
because if it works I'm going with them.
And it's too early to call Louis
and nearly too late to go home.
[from poem, "Song for the Deer and Myself to Return On"] — Joy Harjo

I'm not one who can get by on six hours sleep night after night. You can see it on my face and hear it in my voice. When working 14-hour days, I have to go home, go to sleep, and wake up in time for crew call. I hate naps. They throw me off the rest of the day. — Anna Kendrick

I supply my own angels and demons. I exist on a stony beach, which lowers itself in waves toward a protective ocean. A dog barks; a child cries; the day sinks and becomes night. You can never scare me. No human being will be able to scare me ever again. I have a prayer that I repeat to myself in absolute stillness: May a wind come to stir up the ocean and the stifling twilight. May a bird come from water out there and explode the silence with its call. — Ingmar Bergman

Every day," he whispered, "I'll take you like this. In the morning, before coffee, I fuck you. At night, I fuck you harder. In our bedroom, our living room, our kitchen, I'll love you in every room. Amore mio, I'll break you with my love and put you back together. And when I retire, you still call me Capo because you're mine. Always mine. — C.D. Reiss

I am very glad indeed to see you to-night, and yet I will not say I thank you for this call, but I do most sincerely thank Almighty God for the occasion on which you have called. — Abraham Lincoln

At night, every living thing competes for a chance to be heard. The crickets and frogs call out. Sometimes, there's the soft who-whoo of an owl lost amid the pines. Even the dogs won't rest until they've howled at the moon. But the crickets always win, long after the frogs stop croaking and the owl has found its way home. Long after the dogs have lain down losing the battle against sleep, the crickets keep going as though they know their song is our lullaby. — Jacqueline Woodson

I think that what we should do is have short, clipped conversations on the telephone so someone can always get us, not talking about inane stuff and having someone trying to get you. I also think we've just got to be more sensitive toward other people and not call them at night if you know they've been working. — Letitia Baldrige

I'm projected as an ambulance chaser, but I'm more the ambulance. People call me because they know I will come ... I have never fought a case where they didn't ask me to come. People have
this picture like I'm sitting up in bed at night with a walkie-talkie. "You hear anything? Oh, let's run! It's Virginia today!" ... Every victim calls us ... "Who put Sharpton in charge?" The
victim! — Al Sharpton

So the next time I answer a late night booty call from Jimmie and I actually go over to his place, what will you do?"
... "Punch you in the vagina?"
"Exactly! — J. Lynn

I have two sons. Both served. One as a marine officer in Iraq, one as an army officer in Afghanistan. I do not see - want to see one parent or loved one worrying about getting a call in the middle of the night. I would not place one American life at risk unless it was absolutely necessary. But to destroy ISIS, it is necessary. — George Pataki

Many waters cannot quench love, neither can floods drown it. What then kills love? Only this: Neglect. Not to see you when you stand before me. Not to think of you in the little things. Not to make the road wide for you, the table spread for you. To choose you out of habit not desire, to pass the flower seller without a thought. To leave the dishes unwashed, the bed unmade, to ignore you in the mornings, make use of you at night. To crave another while pecking your cheek. To say your name without hearing it, to assume it is mine to call. — Jeanette Winterson

The Taxi
When I go away from you
The world beats dead
Like a slackened drum.
I call out for you against the jutted stars
And shout into the ridges of the wind.
Streets coming fast,
One after the other,
Wedge you away from me,
And the lamps of the city prick my eyes
So that I can no longer see your face.
Why should I leave you,
To wound myself upon the sharp edges of the night? — Amy Lowell

Ars Poetica

To gaze at the river made of time and water
And recall that time itself is another river,
To know we cease to be, just like the river,
And that our faces pass away, just like the water.

To feel that waking is another sleep
That dreams it does not sleep and that death,
Which our flesh dreads, is that very death
Of every night, which we call sleep.

To see in the day or in the year a symbol
Of mankind's days and of his years,
To transform the outrage of the years
Into a music, a rumor and a symbol,

To see in death a sleep, and in the sunset
A sad gold, of such is Poetry
Immortal and a pauper. For Poetry
Returns like the dawn and the sunset.

At times in the afternoons a face
Looks at us from the depths of a mirror;
Art must be like that mirror
That reveals to us this face of ours. — Jorge Luis Borges

I archive a lot of my clothes and have them wrapped up and in boxes. I call them 'little tombs' and keep them in a storage space ... I would never get rid of the dress I wore on the night I won my Oscar. When I die, someone can have it, but not a minute before! — Halle Berry

Fellow Americans, our duty is before us tonight. Let us go forward, determined to serve selflessly a vision of man with God, government for people, and humanity at peace. For it is now our task to tend and preserve, through the darkest and coldest nights, that "sacred fire of liberty" that President Washington spoke of two centuries ago, a fire that tonight remains a beacon to all oppressed of the world, shining forth from this kindly, pleasant, greening land we call America. — Ronald Reagan

A bum woke up in the gutter right beside where I stood looking across the street at this place. He felt in the waist of his pants and came up with a pint bottle, half full. He tipped it up and it gurgled steadily until he'd emptied it all down into him. I was only twenty-four or -five but I already knew from experience how it tasted. And people who've kissed the feet of Christ know how it tasted. I saw everything there in the gutter
the terror and the promise. Later I spent the morning in the smoky Day Labor Division with better than a hundred men who'd learned how not to move, learned how to stay beautifully still and let their lives hurt them, white men with gray faces and black men with yellow eyes. I worked the rest of the week in a factory without ever comprehending exactly what was manufactured there, and at night I'd get drunk and shut myself in a phone booth and call the woman in Minnesota who'd broken my heart. — Denis Johnson

God speaks to each of us as he makes us,
then walks with us silently out of the night.
These are the words we dimly hear:
You, sent out beyond your recall,
go to the limits of your longing.
Embody me.
Flare up like a flame
and make big shadows I can move in.
Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror.
Just keep going. No feeling is final.
Don't let yourself lose me.
Nearby is the country they call life.
You will know it by its seriousness.
Give me your hand. — Rainer Maria Rilke

I am the eye that beholds ... And I am the dreamer that paints the stars in the night sky ... For I am the one they call artist, and you call Love. — Solange Nicole

He grinned. "And you've got yourself a nickname. I'm thinking 'Shorty'"
"I'm five eight without heels."
"It's not a description. It's a nickname. Get used to it, Shorty."
We stood there for a moment, waiting for the tension to evaporate. When it did, we smiled at each other. "Don't call me Shorty," I told him.
"Okay, Shorty."
"Seriously, that's very immature."
"Whatever you say, Shorty. Let's call it a night."
"Fine by me."
I'd worry about the humiliation in the morning.
Merit/Jonah — Chloe Neill

Into darkness will I fade,
Into a night that Man has made,
But through that gloom shall gleam the sun
When I am lost, and again am won.

Release! Release! I call to thee
In new lands across the sea:
Let, another on narrow pathways, come to me.

Furthest and Highest,
yet not beyond reach.
Choose thou well a path that will teach
How the sunken is raised
and emptiness is filled
and a wandering heart
can finally be stilled.

Seek the great stone! Mark it well,with a sign.
That the one who shall follow
Shall see it is mine,
and seeing, shall ponder and certainly know
As the Ancients have writ: "As above, so below."

And I shall guard the Source of Greatness;
Waiting by a teardrop
From neither joy nor sorrow born,
In silver bound, beneath the ground,
I am the spiral horn. — Michael Green

Beautiful, fragile, fleeting, the sunrise shell; but not, for all that, illusory. Because it is not lasting, let us not fall into the cynic's trap and call it an illusion. Duration is not a test of true or false. The day of the dragon-fly or the night of the Saturnid moth is not invalid simply because that phase in its life cycle is brief. Validity need have no relation to time, to duration, to continuity. It is on another plane, judged by other standards. "And what is actual is actual only for one time and only for one place." The sunrise shell has the eternal validity of all beautiful and fleeting things. — Anne Morrow Lindbergh

And as the bombshells of my daily fears explode
I try to trace them to my youth

And then you had to bring up reincarnation
Over a couple of beers the other night
And now I'm serving time for mistakes
Made by another in another lifetime

How long till my soul gets it right
Can any human being ever reach that kind of light
I call on the resting soul of galileo
King of night vision, king of insight
...
But then again it feels like some sort of inspiration
To let the next life off the hook
But she'll say "look what I had to overcome from my last life
I think I'll write a book — Indigo Girls

I call it a threat." He checked to ensure the door was locked before making himself comfortable on the chair. "Hey, it's Friday night, let's go out." "Your sneakers are filthy." I scowled, spotting muddy tracks on the floorboards. "What do you expect, your backyard is mucky. — Cathrina Constantine

What time are we back in the training ring tomorrow?"
To his credit, Cassian didn't so much as glance at Nesta as he replied with a lazy smile, "I'd say dawn, but since I'm feeling rather grateful that you're back in one piece, I'll let you sleep in. Let's meet at seven."
"I'd hardly call that sleeping in," I said.
"For an Illyrian, it is," Mor muttered.
Cassian's wings rustled. "Daylight is a precious resource."
"We live in the Night Court," Mor countered — Sarah J. Maas

Origins and History of Consciousness
III.
It's simple to wake from sleep with a stranger,
dress, go out, drink coffee,
enter a life again. It isn't simple
to wake from sleep into the neighborhood
of one neither strange nor familiar
whom we have chosen to trust. Trusting, untrusting,
we lowered ourselves into this, let ourselves
downward hand over hand as on a rope that quivered
over the unsearched ... . We did this. Conceived
of each other, conceived each other in a darkness
which I remember as drenched in light.
I want to call this, life.
But I can't call it life until we start to move
beyond this secret circle of fire
where our bodies are giant shadows flung on a wall
where the night becomes our inner darkness, and sleeps
like a dumb beast, head on her paws, in the corner. — Adrienne Rich

Beyond the East the sunrise, beyond the West the sea,
And East and West the wanderlust that will not let me be;
It works in me like madness, dear, to bid me say good-by!
For the seas call and the stars call, and oh, the call of the sky!

I know not where the white road runs, nor what the blue hills are,
But man can have the sun for friend, and for his guide a star;
And there's no end of voyaging when once the voice is heard,
For the river calls and the road calls, and oh, the call of a bird!

Yonder the long horizon lies, and there by night and day
The old ships draw to home again, the young ships sail away;
And come I may, but go I must, and if men ask you why,
You may put the blame on the stars and the sun and the white road and the sky! — Gerald Gould

Let's go deeper and deeper... How you know that's night and morning what does it makes you to think??
... Yeah, yeah the time... I know that, but let's removed it from the world... so reality it doesn't exist...!
... How??? how?? You can't remove it, didn't you said that??
Or my mistake?!
It gets sun set in the morning and in the night it gets sun out...
That's false thought unfortunately, what you see is just a shadow... Vsauce proved it!
So how do you understand the differences between
24:00 - PM which is counted as middle between the other day which is yesterday, if I can call it like this or after few minutes which will mean 59 it will become tomorrow, if it's Monday 24:00 Pm after 59 minutes it will become Tuesday... - (It's kind a interesting isn't it??)... now let's go little more far and the other is morning 02:01 which is the morning AM of the other day which is now yesterday. Strange! — Deyth Banger

Call him!" echoed Barnaby, sitting upright upon the floor, and staring vacantly at Gabriel, as he thrust his hair back from his face. "But who can make him come! He calls me, and makes me go where he will. He goes on before, and I follow. He's the master, and I'm the man. Is that the truth, Grip?" The raven gave a short, comfortable, confidential kind of croak; - a most expressive croak, which seemed to say, "You needn't let these fellows into our secrets. We understand each other. It's all right." "I make him come!" cried Barnaby, pointing to the bird. "Him, who never goes to sleep, or so much as winks! - Why, any time of night, you may see his eyes in my dark room, shining like two sparks. And every night, and all night too, he's broad awake, talking to himself, thinking what he shall do to-morrow, where we shall go, and what he shall steal, and hide, and bury. I make him come! Ha, ha, ha! — Charles Dickens

They have what you call a black night where they have black people come in for just one night only to watch comedy, and you get all your local drug dealers, thugs, prostitutes, all of them come in, sit down, and listen to you tell jokes. They the hardest people to make laugh. — Mike Epps

The evening is nearly over. Before long it will be last call and Good Night, Ladies. Only a few more minutes and exhilaration will start its inevitable leakage. Even the best, dizziest times have that moment of deflation when people realize that everything has already happened. But for now all possibilities are intact. — Jean Thompson

Forgive yourself for the decisions you have made, the ones you still call mistakes when you tuck them in at night — Sarah Kay

Some people wouldn't see a traitor when they looked at me. Some people would see a survivor. Call me anything you like - I sleep fine at night. But you will look at me when you say it. Or I'll get so far in your face you'll be seeing me with your eyes closed. You'll be seeing me in your nightmares. I'll scorch myself on the backs of your eyelids. Get off my back and stay off it. I'm not the woman I used to be. If you want a war with me, you'll get one. Just try me. Give me an excuse to go play in that dark place inside my head. — Karen Marie Moning

Know that without night there is no day; without lies, no truth;without despair,no hope. Beware above all of hate, but call to its opposite too. For all things have an opposite and, if you choose it, with will and care, you may turn one thing into its reflection. — David Clement-Davies

I think I take what you might call a B-movie story, deal with B-movie subjects, and I treat it as if it's an A-movie in terms of my approach, my crew, my actors, my ethics and so on. I guess that's my trademark or one of them, anyway! — M. Night Shyamalan

Out of the new arrivals in our lives
the odd word stumbled upon in a difficult text, the handsome black stranger who bursts in one night through the cat door, the telephone call out of a friend's silence of years, the sudden greeting from the girl-child
we constantly make of ourselves our selves. — Nancy Mairs

She trekked back across the meadow and down through the trees in possession of the oldest secret known to man. She sat on the mooring stone and surrendered immediately to the down of night. She hadn't slept long before she suddenly jolted awake. Thought she had heard the sweet call of a lark ascending. Unaware that it was actually the sound of her soul awakening. — Sarah Winman

If I were to remake a movie, I'd love to remake Halloween 3 Season of the Witch because even though it's a very flawed film, at its core is a brilliant idea: An evil toymaker is set to kill all the children of the world on Halloween night - and I think that's absolutely fantastic. So whoever has the rights can give me a call. — Bryan Fuller

Anyway," continued Mr. Miller, "when I was a kid, people used to sit under the stars at night and look up into the sky and talk about things. They got to know each other. People Today is too busy staring at the television, what I call the idiot box, to talk about anything. That's why there are so many divorces these days. People don't talk — K. Martin Beckner

There's this fancy restaurant nearby with a nice view of the water. The Alchemist and Barrister, they call it. I've always thought the place looked nice. Since I don't eat regular food or go on dates, I'v never been there. I'd like to make an exception and take you there on Saturday night. That is, if you'd like. — Christopher Rankin

I haven't been on a first date over five years.
Five. Years.
Which means, I haven't been on one since 2006.
Let me take you back to that time: 2006.
Tom Cruise and Kathie Holmes celebrated the birth of their little "TomKitten."
The Wii came out - and YouTube was flooded with videos of people throwing those little white remotes into their TVs.
Britney and Kevin call it quits, shocking America to its very core.
Facebook was still just a college campus thing - if you wanted to stalk someone, you had to buy a zoom lens and some night vision goggles.
It was a simpler time. — Elodia Strain

What do you say we go find a hotel near here, have a nice dinner, hot showers and call it a night. I'd like to sleep in your bed, too." "What did you say?" "I said I'd like to sleep in a bed, too." "Oh. — Penelope Ward

O mere mercy....
message: My heart longs to hear...
Through all these
Wind whispers
Rain recalls
Crickets cry
Damp and dark
I sit here under the night sky
Trough all these sweet noise
Why o why ?
A mere call of mercy doesn't reach
this lonely soul of mine ? O mere mercy... — A.I. Akram

When Russell was out, you stepped your game up for me, for the team. There were nights where you made me look way better than I am. You clean up so many of our mistakes, man, and we appreciate that. From everybody on the team, we appreciate that, man, and I thank you so much for giving me confidence when I didn't have it, for always being there when I wanted to talk to you, when I wanted to call, for arguing with me all the time, making me better, and realizing I'm not always right. Thank you, man. I appreciate you. — Kevin Durant

I wanted what most people wanted - love, companionship.
I wanted someone to touch. I wanted someone to touch me back.
I wanted someone to laugh with, someone who would laugh with me, laugh at me.
I wanted someone who looked and sawme . Not my power, not my position.
I wanted someone to say my name. To call out, "Merit," when it was time to go, or when we arrived.
Someone who wanted to say to someone else, with pride, "I'm here with her. With Merit."
I wanted all those things. Indivisibly.
But I didn't want them from Morgan. — Chloe Neill

One could know a thousand women, Gascoigne thought; one could take a different girl every night for years and years - but sooner or later, the new lovers would do little more than call to mind the old, and one would be forced to wander, lost, in that reflective maze of endless comparison, forever disappointed, forever turning back. — Eleanor Catton

We should every night call ourselves to an account;
What infirmity have I mastered today?
What passions opposed? What temptation resisted? What virtue acquired? Our vices will abort of themselves if they be brought every day to the shrift. — Seneca.

To wake up on a gloriously bright morning, in a tent pitched beneath spruce trees, and to look out lazily and sleepily for a moment from the open side of the tent, across the dead camp-fire of the night before, to the river, where the light of morning rests and perhaps some early-rising[240] native is gliding in his birch canoe; to go to the river and freshen one's self with the cold water, and yell exultingly to the gulls and hell-divers, in the very joy of living; or to wake at night, when you have rolled in your blankets in the frost-stricken dying grass without a tent, and to look up through the leaves above to the dark sky and the flashing stars, and hear far off the call of a night bird or the howl of a wolf: this is the poetry, the joy of a wild and roving existence, which cannot come too often — Josiah Edward Spurr

It always pisses me off when I'm calling in to some Morning Zoo radio show to promote God-only-knows what - probably this book, so get ready, I'm comin' - when the DJ actually tries to convince me that there are as many female comics as male ones. Cue hypermasculine Morning Zoo Hacky McGee voice: "So Kath, I don't know what you chicks are always complaining about." To which I respond: "Really? Why don't you call your local comedy club and ask for the Saturday night lineup? I guarantee you the male to female ratio is going to be about nine to one. You dick-wad. — Kathy Griffin

Dear Pighead, The reason I am so distant is because, well, there are two reasons actually. The first reason is my drinking. I require alcohol, nightly. And nothing can get in the way. The second reason is your disease. I can't stand the idea of getting close to you, or closer, only to have you up and die on me, pulling the carpet out from under my life. You're my best friend. The best friend I ever had. I have to protect that. I don't call you or see you much because I'm killing you off now, while it's easier. Because I can still talk to you. It makes sense to me to separate now, while you're still healthy, as opposed to having it just happen to me one night out of the blue. I'm trying to evenly distribute the pain of loss. As opposed to taking it in one lump sum. — Augusten Burroughs

MAULANA'S LAST LETTER TO SHAMS

Sometimes I wonder, sweetest love, if you
Were a mere dream in along winter night,
A dream of spring-days, and of golden light
Which sheds its rays upon a frozen heart;
A dream of wine that fills the drunken eye.

And so I wonder, sweetest love, if I
Should drink this ruby wine, or rather weep;
Each tear a bezel with your face engraved,
A rosary to memorize your name...

There are so many ways to call you back-
Yes, even if you only were a dream. — Jalaluddin Rumi

Behind those homes was Mass General, where my father and I had gone together so many times. A phone call had woken us in the early hours one morning, and we had driven down to Boston just as the first light was intruding with harsh orange streaks in the sky. She looked the same as the night before, lying in the bed with her eyes closed, only all the machines were shut off, making the room in which we had spent so many quiet hours all the more silent. Her skin felt chilled when I touched it, as if she had just returned from a brisk walk in winter. I looked up now at the windows of the hospital, but my father turned toward Chitra. — Anonymous

Audrey turned to him, a sly little spark hiding in her eyes. "THe only man who gets to call me'love' would be waking up next to me after a very, very fun night.
Fun night. Oh yes.
"Guess what?" She leaned closer. "You will never be that man. — Ilona Andrews

...I watched the day slip into night, noting the wondrous tonal transformations of the sunset on its dimmer switch, how blood-orange can shade imperceptibly into ice-blue on the knife-edge of the horizon, listening to the sea's interminable call for silence - shh, shh, shh. — William Boyd

I have a thing - I call it magic - but I feel like I can write stuff down in the middle of the night and wake up and it happens. I write what I want in my journal. — Ester Dean

Bilbo's Last Song

Day is ended, dim my eyes,
But journey long before me lies.
Farewell, friends! I hear the call.
The ship's beside the stony wall.
Foam is white and waves are grey;
Beyond the sunset leads my way.
Foam is salt, the wind is free;
I hear the rising of the Sea.

Farewell, friends! The sails are set,
The wind is east, the moorings fret.
Shadows long before me lie,
Beneath the ever-bending sky,
But islands lie behind the Sun
That I shall raise ere all is done;
Lands there are to west of West,
Where night is quiet and sleep is rest.

Guided by the Lonely Star,
Beyond the utmost harbour-bar,
I'll find the heavens fair and free,
And beaches of the Starlit Sea.
Ship, my ship! I seek the West,
And fields and mountains ever blest.
Farewell to Middle-earth at last.
I see the Star above my mast! — J.R.R. Tolkien