Night Quotes: Louis Dumond++
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Night w Her Train of Stars by Edward Hughes We are free to fly at night, where there is no sun to melt the wings of Icarus, to blind our sensitive eyes and fill our souls with the brilliant glare that only those who have died, who are going to Heaven, should rightfully see.

Though we are vampires, I have nothing against the idea of Heaven, personally. However, I have never found much that is sublime in the loud din of light, even before receiving the Dark Gift which opened my eyes and heart to who I truly am.

I have seen too much darkness hidden by the light. The insincere smile might be missed if one admires her shade of lipstick instead. The fact that he doesn't meet your stare might be overlooked if his countenance is handsome, and the color of those turned-away eyes are like blue ocean. The ocean conceals both dolphins and sharks, native intelligence and teeth that bite -- bite with far greater ferocity than I've seen before -- including my kindred.

Night in St. Cloud by Edvard Munch Some say shadows hide evil and light does not. I say I can gaze into the shadows as long as I want, not going blind, and what happens to exist there becomes clear to me, be it "good" or "evil".

Thus Evangeline and I fly amongst stars, sometimes being blessed with the silver perfection of the complete moon. Other times, a silver scythe hangs there, as if waiting to cut down the celestial crop of the heavens. It never does, however: the stars can see it, which they could not in the full glare of day, when the white light would blend with the heavenly weapon and conceal it until it is too late. . .

Remember, we always see the red eyes of the foe after dark.

full moon Louis Dumond full moon


In her starry shade of dim and solitary loveliness, I learn the language of another world.

How sweet and soothing is this hour of calm! I thank thee, night!

The night is made for tenderness so still that the low whisper, scarcely audible, is heard like music, and so deeply pure that the fond thought is chastened as it springs and on the lip is made holy.
--N.P. Willis

Why does the evening, why does the night, put warmer love in our hearts?. . . is it the exalting separation from the turmoils of life, that veiling of the world in which, for the soul, nothing remains but souls?

How absolute and omnipotent is the silence of the night! And yet the stillness seems almost audible.--From all the measureless depths of air around us, comes a half sound, a half whisper, as if we could hear the crumbling and falling away of earth and all created things in the great miracle of nature, decay and reproduction ever beginning, never ending--the gradual lapse and running of the sand in the great hourglass of time.

Night by Edward Burne-Jones

|Vampires of the Eclipse|
|Mortal or Vampire? Choose the Path|

|Vampire Valentine: The Heart of Your Hosts|

|Soul Blood: Poem, Prose and Pictures|
       |"Alone" by Poe|
       |Vampire Poems: The Countess|
|Love: The Countess|
Night: Louis Dumond
|Death: Lord Trufort|
|Don't Look Back: Trufort|

|In a Welcoming Vein: Vampire Renaissance map|
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|The Entrance Gate|

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