When night comes, something speaksfrom that soft, fragrant wilderness.It says, the heart is not a door. But it opens.We — Carole Glasser Langille, In Cannon Cave
When night comes, something speaksfrom that soft, fragrant wilderness.It says, the heart is not a door. But it opens.We — Carole Glasser Langille, In Cannon Cave
When night comes, something speaksfrom that soft, fragrant wilderness.It says, the heart is not a door. But it opens.We — Carole Glasser Langille, In Cannon Cave
When night comes, something speaksfrom that soft, fragrant wilderness.It says, the heart is not a door. But it opens.We — Carole Glasser Langille, In Cannon Cave
When night comes, something speaksfrom that soft, fragrant wilderness.It says, the heart is not a door. But it opens.We — Carole Glasser Langille, In Cannon Cave
When night comes, something speaksfrom that soft, fragrant wilderness.It says, the heart is not a door. But it opens.We — Carole Glasser Langille, In Cannon Cave
When night comes, something speaksfrom that soft, fragrant wilderness.It says, the heart is not a door. But it opens.We — Carole Glasser Langille, In Cannon Cave
When night comes, something speaksfrom that soft, fragrant wilderness.It says, the heart is not a door. But it opens.We — Carole Glasser Langille, In Cannon Cave
When night comes, something speaksfrom that soft, fragrant wilderness.It says, the heart is not a door. But it opens.We — Carole Glasser Langille, In Cannon Cave
When night comes, something speaksfrom that soft, fragrant wilderness.It says, the heart is not a door. But it opens.We — Carole Glasser Langille, In Cannon Cave
When night comes, something speaksfrom that soft, fragrant wilderness.It says, the heart is not a door. But it opens.We — Carole Glasser Langille, In Cannon Cave
When night comes, something speaksfrom that soft, fragrant wilderness.It says, the heart is not a door. But it opens.We — Carole Glasser Langille, In Cannon Cave
When night comes, something speaksfrom that soft, fragrant wilderness.It says, the heart is not a door. But it opens.We — Carole Glasser Langille, In Cannon Cave
When night comes, something speaksfrom that soft, fragrant wilderness.It says, the heart is not a door. But it opens.We — Carole Glasser Langille, In Cannon Cave
When night comes, something speaksfrom that soft, fragrant wilderness.It says, the heart is not a door. But it opens.We — Carole Glasser Langille, In Cannon Cave
When night comes, something speaksfrom that soft, fragrant wilderness.It says, the heart is not a door. But it opens.We — Carole Glasser Langille, In Cannon Cave
When night comes, something speaksfrom that soft, fragrant wilderness.It says, the heart is not a door. But it opens.We — Carole Glasser Langille, In Cannon Cave
When night comes, something speaksfrom that soft, fragrant wilderness.It says, the heart is not a door. But it opens.We — Carole Glasser Langille, In Cannon Cave
When night comes, something speaksfrom that soft, fragrant wilderness.It says, the heart is not a door. But it opens.We — Carole Glasser Langille, In Cannon Cave
When night comes, something speaksfrom that soft, fragrant wilderness.It says, the heart is not a door. But it opens.We — Carole Glasser Langille, In Cannon Cave
When night comes, something speaksfrom that soft, fragrant wilderness.It says, the heart is not a door. But it opens.We — Carole Glasser Langille, In Cannon Cave
When night comes, something speaksfrom that soft, fragrant wilderness.It says, the heart is not a door. But it opens.We — Carole Glasser Langille, In Cannon Cave
When night comes, something speaksfrom that soft, fragrant wilderness.It says, the heart is not a door. But it opens.We — Carole Glasser Langille, In Cannon Cave
When night comes, something speaksfrom that soft, fragrant wilderness.It says, the heart is not a door. But it opens.We — Carole Glasser Langille, In Cannon Cave
When night comes, something speaksfrom that soft, fragrant wilderness.It says, the heart is not a door. But it opens.We — Carole Glasser Langille, In Cannon Cave
When night comes, something speaksfrom that soft, fragrant wilderness.It says, the heart is not a door. But it opens.We — Carole Glasser Langille, In Cannon Cave
When night comes, something speaksfrom that soft, fragrant wilderness.It says, the heart is not a door. But it opens.We — Carole Glasser Langille, In Cannon Cave
When night comes, something speaksfrom that soft, fragrant wilderness.It says, the heart is not a door. But it opens.We — Carole Glasser Langille, In Cannon Cave
When night comes, something speaksfrom that soft, fragrant wilderness.It says, the heart is not a door. But it opens.We — Carole Glasser Langille, In Cannon Cave
When night comes, something speaksfrom that soft, fragrant wilderness.It says, the heart is not a door. But it opens.We — Carole Glasser Langille, In Cannon Cave
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When night comes, something speaksfrom that soft, fragrant wilderness.It says, the heart is not a door. But it opens.We feel in the dark for the hinge.

— Carole Glasser Langille, In Cannon Cave
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darkness

More “Darkness” Quotes

Her dark world was bright because of her sparkling attitude! — Archana Chaurasia Kapoor
She'd had little patience with darkness, and her heartheld only a measure of shadow. I touchedthe warm dust of those col — Ted Kooser, Delights and Shadows
Made a decision. I will never let a sunny day happen without me again. Darkness is almost always guaranteed unless some — Robin Caldwell
Nocturnal with a love for night, I'd stay up to see sunlight... — Donna Lynn Hope
Darkness is but a door, scary not because it opens, but out of fear that it will never close — Johnathan Jena
Most people assume I write at night because of the kind of books I write, but I can shut out the light with my mind. — Carla H. Krueger
Fear gripped her like hands around the neck, the way it could only happen in an unfamiliar room in the pitch black of ni — Elin Hilderbrand, Silver Girl
My lifesaver has always been the hazel iris of your soul. It never fails. When the world plunges me deep into the darkne — LeAnne Mechelle, Write like no one is reading 2
Life blackens at the contact of truth. — Paul Valéry
I didn’t know what darkness was until I lost you — Sylvain Reynard, The Raven
The universe is amply supplied with night. — Neil Gaiman
Saturated Arrogance...she rebuked those about herin darkness did she dwella pathetic historyall mortal man would tell.. — Muse, Enigmatic Evolution