Anger may repast with thee for an hour, but not repose for a night; the continuance of anger is hatred, the continuance — Francis Quarles
Anger may repast with thee for an hour, but not repose for a night; the continuance of anger is hatred, the continuance — Francis Quarles
Anger may repast with thee for an hour, but not repose for a night; the continuance of anger is hatred, the continuance — Francis Quarles
Anger may repast with thee for an hour, but not repose for a night; the continuance of anger is hatred, the continuance — Francis Quarles
Anger may repast with thee for an hour, but not repose for a night; the continuance of anger is hatred, the continuance — Francis Quarles
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Anger may repast with thee for an hour, but not repose for a night; the continuance of anger is hatred, the continuance of hatred turns malice.

— Francis Quarles
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Night Hatred May

More “Night” Quotes

Love in a night shall live and die,Love in a day shall wing and fly;Love in the Spring shall last an hour,Easily fade a — Aleister Crowley, White Stains & the Nameless Novel: Flowers of Eros and Evil
Our backyard looked like a marketplace. Valuable objects, precious rugs, silver candlesticks, Bibles and other ritual ob — Elie Wiesel, Night
Nights are rebellious, they only demand the truth — Mehek Bassi
The last thought on your mind before you sleep is like a mirror showing you the reflection of who you are! No matter wha — Mehek Bassi
It's an easy guess, why some get famous over night and not during the day. — Aleksandra Ninkovic, Write like no one is reading
It is the hour of departure, the hard cold hour which the night fastens to all timetables. — Pablo Neruda, Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair
Tahtahta-ha-ha' clattered the wheels. A lamp outside the window nodded to him. Another. A third. The lamps ceased to win — Andrei Bely, The Silver Age of Russian Culture: An Anthology
And I played music through the night, alone, echoing through the halls. My life, alive through note. — Jonathan P. Lamas, Sanctuary of Expression
Seeing that I would never manage to fall asleep, I arose, lit a candle, and after dressing went outside.Beneath the dull — Boris Sadovskoy, The Silver Age of Russian Culture: An Anthology
At night is when my mind comes alive. — Poem Porns
The Cottage Diner’s homey lights glowed onto black asphalt which just sucked up the beams to spit out more shadows. — Katherine McIntyre, Poisoned Apple
The nights did not come gently but seemed to slam down angrily upon the Earth. — Rick Yancey, The Infinite Sea