Nightly Love Quotes & Sayings

And all my days are trances, And all my nightly dreams Are where thy dark eye glances, And where thy footstep gleams
In what ethereal dances, By what eternal streams! — Edgar Allan Poe

Love is a selfless service to mankind like a showcase done by the twinkling stars in beautiful nightly sky. — Santosh Kalwar

The sun rejoicing round the earth, announced
Daily the wisdom, power and love of God.
The moon awoke, and from her maiden face,
Shedding her cloudy locks, looked meekly forth,
And with her virgin stars walked in the heavens
Walked nightly there, conversing as she walked,
Of purity, and holiness, and God. — Robert Pollok

The song
Of Heaven is ever new; for daily thus,
And nightly, new discoveries are made
Of God's unbounded wisdom, power, and love,
Which give the understanding larger room,
And swell the hymn with ever-growing praise. — Robert Pollok

Sweet Echo, sweetest nymph that liv'st unseen
Within thy airy shell
By slow Meander's margent green,
And in the violet-imbroider'd vale
Where the love-lorn nightingale
Nightly to thee her sad song mourneth well:
Canst thou not tell me of a gentle pair
That likest thy Narcissus are? — John Milton

Rachel moans, "Great. Well, he's not the only one sexually frustrated."

I laugh. "Well, then get over these issues so you both can be relieved."

"How's Alex?" She raises an eyebrow at me.

"I'm sure fine," I say defensively. "I haven't seen him in a few weeks."

"Really? I thought he made a nightly appearance."

"Rachel, those dreams aren't him. It's my f'ed up brain replaying my memories as a form of torture... — Isabelle Joshua

Forever my light shines on you brightly;
Love from above, I will send to you nightly. — Jessica M. Collette

The one thing I don't consume during 'Today' - which surprises many people - is coffee. I find that a lot of water helps wake me up, without the buzz. I love coffee, but usually reserve a double espresso as an afternoon pick-me-up before settling in to do the weekend 'Nightly News.' — Lester Holt

Love that Ritz!" he said. "A lot of folks swear by the Crescent Court, but it has nothing on the Ritz. Such a classic. And do you know that they have their own nightly guacamologist? How divine is that? — Emily Giffin

The love-lorn nightingale nightly to thee her sad song mourneth well. — John Milton

Chain me with roaring bears;
Or shut me nightly in a charnel-house,
O'er-covered quite with dead men's rattling bones,
With reeky shanks and yellow chapless skulls;
Or bid me go into a new-made grave,
And hide me with a dead man in his shroud;
Things that, to hear them told, have made me tremble;
And I will do it without Fear or Doubt,
To live an unstain'd Wife of my sweet Love. — William Shakespeare

I am inhabited by a cry.
Nightly it flaps out
Looking, with its hooks, for something to love. — Sylvia Plath

A history of nightlife!
what an interesting concept. A history of a people, told not through their daily travails and successive political upheavals, but via the changes in their nightly celebrations and unwindings. History is, in this telling, accompanied by a bottle of Malbec, some fine Argentine steak, tango music, dancing, and gossip. It unfolds through and alongside illicit activities that take place in the multitude of discos, dance parlors, and clubs. Its direction, the way people live, is determined on half-lit streets, in bars, and in smoky late-night restaurants. This history is inscribed in songs, on menus, via half-remembered conversations, love affairs, drunken fights, and years of drug abuse. — David Byrne

Martyrs of a sort they were, these children, along with the town drunk, in his basketball sneakers and buttonless overcoat, draining blackberry brandy from a paper bag as he sat on his bench in Kazmierczak Square, risking nightly death by exposure; martyrs too of a sort were the men and women hastening to adulterous trysts, risking disgrace and divorce for their fix of motel love - all sacrificing the outer world to the inner, proclaiming with this priority that everything solid-seeming and substantial is in fact a dream, of less account than a merciful rush of feeling. — John Updike

During his sweet sleep, there was an angelic creature and in her eyes a look of joyous elation that filled Kevin's mind with anticipation of her possible existence in the real world. This freckle-faced vision with her wild mane of untamed blonde curls nightly left an unexplainable ache in his soul. In his dreams, she would appear to him as a mirage of hope. He could feel the love in her heart, for it seeped through her very essence into the air between them. She lay next to him in the grass as they quietly observed the sky above. Her hand seemed to be always just out of his reach. Kevin wanted to hold her hand so badly it was torturous. Her hand was just about touching his but not quite. Then her fingers brushed a path across his fingertips as if to say in the exquisite beauty of the moment, I will always be right here. — Kim Cormack

He'd made love to her four times now, he realized, but this was his first chance to truly look upon her body. She was every inch as lovely as he'd imagined, if not more. He felt a bit guilty, realizing he'd chastised her for sketching his likeness, when he'd been conjuring an image of her nude form nightly for weeks. The only difference was, he hadn't committed his fantasies to paper.
It would take a Renaissance master to capture this beauty. — Tessa Dare

Blind with love, my daughter
has cried nightly for horses,
those long-necked marchers and churners
that she has mastered, any and all,
reigning them in like a circus hand ... — Anne Sexton

You are the one star I wish upon nightly, praying your glory will fall from the heavens and land in my undeserving arms. — Richelle E. Goodrich

Mamah saw clearly now just what she had lost. She had given up her right to keep her place as the children's most beloved. The small, daily offices of love that had connected her to the children before - the shoe tying, the hair combing, the nightly storytelling - were no longer hers to claim. How dare she seek from them the comfort that had once so nourished her? To keep them yearning for a mother who was rarely with them, through her own choice, would be to sentence them to whole lifetimes of sorrow. — Nancy Horan

Mosca and Saracen shared, if not a friendship, at least the solidarity of the generally despised. Mosca assumed that Saracen had his reasons for his persecution of terriers and his possessive love of the malthouse roof. In turn, when Mosca had interrupted Saracen's self-important nightly patrol and scooped him up, Saracen had assumed that she too had her reasons. — Frances Hardinge