Quotes About Light Novels & Stories

I glanced over his hand on mine and then smiled, nodding at what he said. "Even in the velvet dark there is the light of the stars, perhaps a promise that even when we yearn for the light of the sun there will be those stars to bring hope of the dawn. It is always the light we crave, for without it what is our world? Would be become creatures of the night forever to scuttle and hide from predators imagined or real?" I turned to look at him, as I questioned him vague things about the light.

The old man slowly opened his eyes and said, "The light is never meant to be used or borrowed. Real light comes from the heart." Wilbur felt touched at that moment and could not stop his tears from falling. He wiped away his tears and asked, "Why… Why am I crying?" "Congratulations, young man. You found the real meaning of light." "The real meaning of light?" Wilbur was taken aback to hear that, and by the time he looked up again, the old man had vanished.

The library itself was a testament to the wisdom and knowledge accumulated over generations. The lighting in the library was a sight to behold. Bioluminescent sconces adorned the walls, casting a soft, ethereal glow that danced across the pages of the books. It was as if the wisdom contained within the volumes was brought to life by the gentle luminescence. Crystals, embedded within intricate chandeliers, scattered and refracted the light, creating mesmerizing patterns that shimmered across the vast expanse of the library.

And that night, before sleep, Cassie wrote in her journal: Legacy is not what you leave. It’s what you light in others. And this light will never burn out. She closed the notebook. Turned off the lamp. And smiled into the dark. Still dreaming. Still building. Still writing.

Not only talking about what he said but for me, he always looked like an intelligent guy with deeper knowledge about life, everything. "Earth will be sad if the sun dies. Have you heard that Earth cries when sunsets?" "Yeah, it was a saying said by some famous person I heard. I think it's true. Without the sun there's no light on the earth. Without the light, nothing can last long.." "Bright."

•|•|• "We live in a world of reflection where balance thrives. To the left, it is right. To love there is hate, and to darkness there is always light." •|•|• [SHADE SHADOWS] "And how was your day, master?" I asked as I stacked the books on the table. A smile was stained on my face involuntarily. My spirits had dampened after his crass comment but re-lit after the redemption of the one that followed.

"You are my Light that illuminates the Darkness within me..." Never before could I have thought that these words would evoke such great emotions in me and would be associated with a person who completely turned my world upside down. There were actually two people who did this, but one in particular shook my heart especially hard.

she asked. “Depends on the damage. Could be an hour. Could be all night.” A groan of frustration escaped her. “I was in the middle of something. The light was perfect.” “The light now is perfect too,” he said before he could think. “Rembrandt would have loved it.” She looked at him, surprised. A weaker flash of lightning briefly illuminated her face, and he saw a short, genuine smile. “You know Rembrandt?” “I know light and shadow. He was a master at controlling darkness. You work with the opposite. You throw light onto the darkness, even if it’s chaotic light.”

he said, his voice cutting through the quiet hum of the night. ​"Your mother?” ​"Yes." He stopped for a split second, his gaze caught by a fragment of decorative tile on the wall beside them, its pattern half-hidden by a trailing vine. "She would have said something about the light. She always talked about light—in cities, in paintings. She said it was the thing that told you whether a place was honest." ​He looked ahead at the next pool of amber, where the glow of a high lamp spilled onto the cobblestones like honey. "She said dishonest cities had dishonest light. Too bright or too dark. Always compensating for something."

Lucian's astonishment grew, his eyes tracing the movement of my hand. "Remarkable," he murmured, a hint of awe in his voice. "Such a small act, yet it carries so much significance. Light and darkness, a simple switch controlling the balance." I nodded, a thoughtful expression crossing my face. "Sometimes, it's the simplest things that remind us of our choices," I said, my voice carrying a deeper meaning. "We all have the power to choose between light and darkness, even in the midst of turmoil." Lucian's eyes lingered on me, as if he was searching for understanding. "Are you suggesting there's still a choice for me?" he asked, his voice tinged with a mix of hope and uncertainty.