classes ::: object, Occultism,
children :::
branches ::: the Lamp
see also ::: 2.10_-_The_Lamp, the_Guide, the_Maze, the_Path, the_Psychic_Being

Instances - Definitions - Quotes - Chapters - Wordnet - Webgen


object:the Lamp
class:object
subject class:Occultism
subject:Occultism

All is mute in the being, but in the bosom of the silence burns the lamp that can never be extinguished, the fire of an ardent aspiration to know and to love integrally the Divine.
~ The Mother Words Of The Mother - II,



see also ::: 2.10 - The Lamp, the Psychic Being, the Guide, the Maze, the Path





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OBJECT INSTANCES [0] - TOPICS - AUTHORS - BOOKS - CHAPTERS - CLASSES - SEE ALSO - SIMILAR TITLES

TOPICS

AUTH

BOOKS
old_bookshelf
The_Divine_Milieu

IN CHAPTERS TITLE
1.pbs_-_When_The_Lamp_Is_Shattered
2.10_-_The_Lamp

IN CHAPTERS CLASSNAME

IN CHAPTERS TEXT
04.42_-_To_the_Heights-XLII
07.36_-_The_Body_and_the_Psychic
09.03_-_The_Psychic_Being
10.01_-_A_Dream
1.00_-_Gospel
1.00_-_Main
10.12_-_Awake_Mother
1.01_-_NIGHT
1.02_-_MAPS_OF_MEANING_-_THREE_LEVELS_OF_ANALYSIS
1.03_-_THE_STUDY_(The_Exorcism)
1.03_-_To_Layman_Ishii
1.04_-_BOOK_THE_FOURTH
1.04_-_The_Origin_and_Development_of_Poetry.
1.04_-_The_Paths
1.05_-_On_painstaking_and_true_repentance_which_constitute_the_life_of_the_holy_convicts;_and_about_the_prison.
1.070_-_The_Seven_Stages_of_Perfection
1.07_-_TRUTH
1.08a_-_The_Ladder
1.09_-_(Plot_continued.)_Dramatic_Unity.
1.09_-_The_Guardian_of_the_Threshold
11.01_-_The_Opening_Scene_of_Savitri
1.19_-_The_Practice_of_Magical_Evocation
1.21_-_Chih_Men's_Lotus_Flower,_Lotus_Leaves
1.23_-_Improvising_a_Temple
1.3.4.02_-_The_Hour_of_God
1.39_-_The_Ritual_of_Osiris
1.57_-_Public_Scapegoats
1914_11_08p
1953-11-11
1954-07-07_-_The_inner_warrior_-_Grace_and_the_Falsehood_-_Opening_from_below_-_Surrender_and_inertia_-_Exclusive_receptivity_-_Grace_and_receptivity
1958-04-02_-_Correcting_a_mistake
1958-11-04_-_Myths_are_True_and_Gods_exist_-_mental_formation_and_occult_faculties_-_exteriorization_-_work_in_dreams
1968-02-07
1970_03_03
1.ac_-_The_Wizard_Way
1.anon_-_The_Poem_of_Imru-Ul-Quais
1f.lovecraft_-_The_Case_of_Charles_Dexter_Ward
1f.lovecraft_-_The_Colour_out_of_Space
1f.lovecraft_-_The_Dream-Quest_of_Unknown_Kadath
1f.lovecraft_-_The_Ghost-Eater
1f.lovecraft_-_The_Hound
1f.lovecraft_-_The_Lurking_Fear
1f.lovecraft_-_The_Man_of_Stone
1f.lovecraft_-_The_Night_Ocean
1f.lovecraft_-_The_Shadow_out_of_Time
1f.lovecraft_-_The_Whisperer_in_Darkness
1.fs_-_Melancholy_--_To_Laura
1.fs_-_Parables_And_Riddles
1.hcyc_-_42_-_I_raise_the_Dharma-banner_and_set_forth_our_teaching_(from_The_Shodoka)
1.he_-_You_no_sooner_attain_the_great_void
1.hs_-_Naked_in_the_Bee-House
1.jk_-_Calidore_-_A_Fragment
1.jk_-_Otho_The_Great_-_Act_IV
1.jr_-_Did_I_Not_Say_To_You
1.kbr_-_Poem_5
1.kbr_-_The_Light_of_the_Sun
1.kbr_-_The_light_of_the_sun,_the_moon,_and_the_stars_shines_bright
1.lovecraft_-_Fungi_From_Yuggoth
1.mb_-_Collection_of_Six_Haiku
1.mb_-_The_Dagger
1.mb_-_The_Five-Coloured_Garment
1.pbs_-_Adonais_-_An_elegy_on_the_Death_of_John_Keats
1.pbs_-_Epipsychidion
1.pbs_-_Epipsychidion_(Excerpt)
1.pbs_-_Fragment_-_Satan_Broken_Loose
1.pbs_-_Ginevra
1.pbs_-_Hellas_-_A_Lyrical_Drama
1.pbs_-_Homers_Hymn_To_The_Moon
1.pbs_-_Lines_Written_Among_The_Euganean_Hills
1.pbs_-_Ode_To_Heaven
1.pbs_-_Prometheus_Unbound
1.pbs_-_Queen_Mab_-_Part_VI.
1.pbs_-_Queen_Mab_-_Part_Vi_(Excerpts)
1.pbs_-_The_Boat_On_The_Serchio
1.pbs_-_The_Cenci_-_A_Tragedy_In_Five_Acts
1.pbs_-_The_Revolt_Of_Islam_-_Canto_I-XII
1.pbs_-_The_Sensitive_Plant
1.pbs_-_The_Triumph_Of_Life
1.pbs_-_The_Two_Spirits_-_An_Allegory
1.pbs_-_When_The_Lamp_Is_Shattered
1.poe_-_The_Raven
1.pp_-_Raga_Dhanashri
1.rb_-_Paracelsus_-_Part_V_-_Paracelsus_Attains
1.rmr_-_Night_(This_night,_agitated_by_the_growing_storm)
1.rt_-_A_Dream
1.rt_-_Farewell
1.rt_-_Fireflies
1.rt_-_Fool
1.rt_-_Gitanjali
1.rt_-_Lamp_Of_Love
1.rt_-_Lovers_Gifts_XXII_-_I_Shall_Gladly_Suffer
1.rt_-_Song_Unsung
1.rt_-_Stray_Birds_61_-_70
1.rt_-_The_Gardener_IX_-_When_I_Go_Alone_At_Night
1.rt_-_The_Gardener_LXXXIII_-_She_Dwelt_On_The_Hillside
1.rt_-_The_Gardener_X_-_Let_Your_Work_Be,_Bride
1.rt_-_Waiting
1.rt_-_When_I_Go_Alone_At_Night
1.rvd_-_If_You_are_a_mountain
1.rvd_-_The_Name_alone_is_the_Truth
1.srd_-_Krishna_Awakes
1.tm_-_A_Practical_Program_for_Monks
1.wby_-_Ego_Dominus_Tuus
1.whitman_-_Carol_Of_Occupations
1.whitman_-_Song_of_Myself
1.whitman_-_Song_Of_Myself-_XLIII
2.01_-_MASTER_AND_DISCIPLE
2.01_-_Proem
2.02_-_Atomic_Motions
2.02_-_The_Circle
2.02_-_The_Monstrance
2.03_-_The_Altar
2.03_-_VISIT_TO_VIDYASAGAR
2.05_-_The_Holy_Oil
2.06_-_THE_MASTER_WITH_THE_BRAHMO_DEVOTEES
2.07_-_THE_MASTER_AND_VIJAY_GOSWAMI
2.09_-_ADVICE_TO_THE_BRAHMOS
2.09_-_The_Pantacle
2.1.02_-_Love_and_Death
2.10_-_The_Lamp
2.12_-_THE_FESTIVAL_AT_PNIHTI
2.12_-_The_Robe
2.12_-_The_Way_and_the_Bhakta
2.13_-_THE_MASTER_AND_M.
2.14_-_INSTRUCTION_TO_VAISHNAVS_AND_BRHMOS
2.19_-_THE_MASTER_AND_HIS_INJURED_ARM
2.20_-_2.29_-_RULES_FOR_HOUSEHOLDERS_AND_MONKS
2.30_-_2.39_-_THE_MASTER_IN_VARIOUS_MOODS
2.40_-_2.49_-_THE_MASTER_AT_THE_HOUSES_OF_BALARM_AND_GIRISH
3.02_-_Aspiration
3.08_-_Of_Equilibrium
3.10_-_Of_the_Gestures
3.12_-_Of_the_Bloody_Sacrifice
31_Hymns_to_the_Star_Goddess
32.01_-_Where_is_God?
39.11_-_A_Prayer
4.2_-_Karma
6.0_-_Conscious,_Unconscious,_and_Individuation
6.1.04_-_A_Gods_Labour
Aeneid
BOOK_I._--_PART_I._COSMIC_EVOLUTION
BOOK_I._--_PART_III._SCIENCE_AND_THE_SECRET_DOCTRINE_CONTRASTED
Book_of_Exodus
Conversations_with_Sri_Aurobindo
ENNEAD_06.05_-_The_One_and_Identical_Being_is_Everywhere_Present_In_Its_Entirety.345
Guru_Granth_Sahib_first_part
IS_-_Chapter_1
Liber_46_-_The_Key_of_the_Mysteries
Liber_71_-_The_Voice_of_the_Silence_-_The_Two_Paths_-_The_Seven_Portals
r1913_09_17
r1914_03_23
r1914_03_24
Sayings_of_Sri_Ramakrishna_(text)
Symposium
The_Coming_Race_Contents
The_Dwellings_of_the_Philosophers
The_Garden_of_Forking_Paths_2
The_Gospel_According_to_Luke
The_Gospel_According_to_Mark
The_Gospel_According_to_Matthew
The_Shadow_Out_Of_Time
Verses_of_Vemana

PRIMARY CLASS

object
SEE ALSO

2.10_-_The_Lamp
the_Guide
the_Maze
the_Path
the_Psychic_Being
SIMILAR TITLES
the Lamp

DEFINITIONS



QUOTES [6 / 6 - 500 / 806]


KEYS (10k)

   1 The Mother
   1 Sri Ramakrishna
   1 Sri Aurobindo
   1 Manly P Hall
   1 Jalaluddin Rumi
   1 Aleister Crowley

NEW FULL DB (2.4M)

   25 Cassandra Clare
   13 Anonymous
   6 Rumi
   5 Rabindranath Tagore
   5 Lisa Kleypas
   5 Jessica Khoury
   5 Gustave Flaubert
   4 Rabindranath Tagore
   4 James Joyce
   4 G K Chesterton
   4 Gautama Buddha
   4 Emily Dickinson
   4 Edgar Allan Poe
   4 C S Lewis
   4 Charles Haddon Spurgeon
   4 Catherine Steadman
   4 Anthony Doerr
   3 Ursula K Le Guin
   3 T S Eliot
   3 Sathya Sai Baba

1:All is mute in the being, but in the bosom of the silence burns the lamp that can never be extinguished, the fire of an ardent aspiration to know and to love integrally the Divine.
   ~ The Mother, Words Of The Mother II,
2:823. Should you think of God only at the time of meditation and remain forgetful of Him at all other times? Have you not noticed how during Durga Puja a lamp is kept constantly burning near the image? It should never be allowed to go out. If ever it is extinguished, the house-holder meets with some mishap. Similarly, after installing the Deity on the lotus of your heart, you must keep the lamp of remembering Him ever burning. While engaged in the affairs of the world, you should constantly turn your gaze inwards and see whether the lamp is burning or not. ~ Sri Ramakrishna, Sayings of Sri Ramakrishna,
3:The alchemist of today is not hidden in caves and cellars, studying alone, but as he goes on with his work, it is seen that walls are built around him, and while he is in the world, like the master of old, he is not of it. As he goes further in his work, the light of other people's advice and outside help grows weaker and weaker, until finally he stands alone in darkness, and then comes the time that he must use his own lamp, and the various experiments which he has carried on must be his guide. He must take the Elixir of Life which he has developed and with it fill the lamp of his spiritual consciousness, and holding that above his head, walk into the Great Unknown, where if he has been a good and faithful servant, he will learn of the alchemy of Divinity. Where now test tubes and bottles are his implements, then worlds and globes he will study, and as a silent watcher will learn from that Divine One, who is the Great Alchemist of all the universe, the greatest alchemy of all, the creation of life, the maintenance of form, and the building of worlds. ~ Manly P Hall, The Initiates of the Flame,
4:Eternal, unconfined, unextended, without cause and without effect, the Holy Lamp mysteriously burns. Without quantity or quality, unconditioned and sempiternal, is this Light.
It is not possible for anyone to advise or approve; for this Lamp is not made with hands; it exists alone for ever; it has no parts, no person; it is before "I am." Few can behold it, yet it is always there. For it there is no "here" nor "there," no "then" nor "now;" all parts of speech are abolished, save the noun; and this noun is not found either in {106} human speech or in Divine. It is the Lost Word, the dying music of whose sevenfold echo is I A O and A U M.
Without this Light the Magician could not work at all; yet few indeed are the Magicians that have know of it, and far fewer They that have beheld its brilliance!

The Temple and all that is in it must be destroyed again and again before it is worthy to receive that Light. Hence it so often seems that the only advice that any master can give to any pupil is to destroy the Temple.

"Whatever you have" and "whatever you are" are veils before that Light. Yet in so great a matter all advice is vain. There is no master so great that he can see clearly the whole character of any pupil. What helped him in the past may hinder another in the future.

Yet since the Master is pledged to serve, he may take up that service on these simple lines. Since all thoughts are veils of this Light, he may advise the destruction of all thoughts, and to that end teach those practices which are clearly conductive to such destruction.

These practices have now fortunately been set down in clear language by order of the A.'.A.'..

In these instructions the relativity and limitation of each practice is clearly taught, and all dogmatic interpretations are carefully avoided. Each practice is in itself a demon which must be destroyed; but to be destroyed it must first be evoked.

Shame upon that Master who shirks any one of these practices, however distasteful or useless it may be to him! For in the detailed knowledge of it, which experience alone can give him, may lie his opportunity for crucial assistance to a pupil. However dull the drudgery, it should be undergone. If it were possible to regret anything in life, which is fortunately not the case, it would be the hours wasted in fruitful practices which might have been more profitably employed on sterile ones: for NEMO<> in tending his garden seeketh not to single out the flower that shall be NEMO after him. And we are not told that NEMO might have used other things than those which he actually does use; it seems possible that if he had not the acid or the knife, or the fire, or the oil, he might miss tending just that one flower which was to be NEMO after him! ~ Aleister Crowley, Liber ABA, The Lamp,
5:A God's Labour
I have gathered my dreams in a silver air
   Between the gold and the blue
And wrapped them softly and left them there,
   My jewelled dreams of you.

I had hoped to build a rainbow bridge
   Marrying the soil to the sky
And sow in this dancing planet midge
   The moods of infinity.

But too bright were our heavens, too far away,
   Too frail their ethereal stuff;
Too splendid and sudden our light could not stay;
   The roots were not deep enough.

He who would bring the heavens here
   Must descend himself into clay
And the burden of earthly nature bear
   And tread the dolorous way.

Coercing my godhead I have come down
   Here on the sordid earth,
Ignorant, labouring, human grown
   Twixt the gates of death and birth.

I have been digging deep and long
   Mid a horror of filth and mire
A bed for the golden river's song,
   A home for the deathless fire.

I have laboured and suffered in Matter's night
   To bring the fire to man;
But the hate of hell and human spite
   Are my meed since the world began.

For man's mind is the dupe of his animal self;
   Hoping its lusts to win,
He harbours within him a grisly Elf
   Enamoured of sorrow and sin.

The grey Elf shudders from heaven's flame
   And from all things glad and pure;
Only by pleasure and passion and pain
   His drama can endure.

All around is darkness and strife;
   For the lamps that men call suns
Are but halfway gleams on this stumbling life
   Cast by the Undying Ones.

Man lights his little torches of hope
   That lead to a failing edge;
A fragment of Truth is his widest scope,
   An inn his pilgrimage.

The Truth of truths men fear and deny,
   The Light of lights they refuse;
To ignorant gods they lift their cry
   Or a demon altar choose.

All that was found must again be sought,
   Each enemy slain revives,
Each battle for ever is fought and refought
   Through vistas of fruitless lives.

My gaping wounds are a thousand and one
   And the Titan kings assail,
But I dare not rest till my task is done
   And wrought the eternal will.

How they mock and sneer, both devils and men!
   "Thy hope is Chimera's head
Painting the sky with its fiery stain;
   Thou shalt fall and thy work lie dead.

"Who art thou that babblest of heavenly ease
   And joy and golden room
To us who are waifs on inconscient seas
   And bound to life's iron doom?

"This earth is ours, a field of Night
   For our petty flickering fires.
How shall it brook the sacred Light
   Or suffer a god's desires?

"Come, let us slay him and end his course!
   Then shall our hearts have release
From the burden and call of his glory and force
   And the curb of his wide white peace."

But the god is there in my mortal breast
   Who wrestles with error and fate
And tramples a road through mire and waste
   For the nameless Immaculate.

A voice cried, "Go where none have gone!
   Dig deeper, deeper yet
Till thou reach the grim foundation stone
   And knock at the keyless gate."

I saw that a falsehood was planted deep
   At the very root of things
Where the grey Sphinx guards God's riddle sleep
   On the Dragon's outspread wings.

I left the surface gauds of mind
   And life's unsatisfied seas
And plunged through the body's alleys blind
   To the nether mysteries.

I have delved through the dumb Earth's dreadful heart
   And heard her black mass' bell.
I have seen the source whence her agonies part
   And the inner reason of hell.

Above me the dragon murmurs moan
   And the goblin voices flit;
I have pierced the Void where Thought was born,
   I have walked in the bottomless pit.

On a desperate stair my feet have trod
   Armoured with boundless peace,
Bringing the fires of the splendour of God
   Into the human abyss.

He who I am was with me still;
   All veils are breaking now.
I have heard His voice and borne His will
   On my vast untroubled brow.

The gulf twixt the depths and the heights is bridged
   And the golden waters pour
Down the sapphire mountain rainbow-ridged
   And glimmer from shore to shore.

Heaven's fire is lit in the breast of the earth
   And the undying suns here burn;
Through a wonder cleft in the bounds of birth
   The incarnate spirits yearn

Like flames to the kingdoms of Truth and Bliss:
   Down a gold-red stairway wend
The radiant children of Paradise
   Clarioning darkness' end.

A little more and the new life's doors
   Shall be carved in silver light
With its aureate roof and mosaic floors
   In a great world bare and bright.

I shall leave my dreams in their argent air,
   For in a raiment of gold and blue
There shall move on the earth embodied and fair
   The living truth of you.
   ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems, A God's Labour, 534,
6:The lamps are different, but the Light is the same. ~ Jalaluddin Rumi,

*** NEWFULLDB 2.4M ***

1:Hope is patience with the lamp lit. ~ Tertullian
2:Instead of cursing the darkness, try to fix the lamp. ~
3:It takes oil to keep the lamps burning. ~ Mother Teresa
4:Scared is the lamp that lights the way. ~ Walter Mosley
5:And the eyes are the lamp of the body. ~ Karen Kingsbury
6:The lamp burns bright when wick and oil are clean. ~ Ovid
7:Within my heart is the lamp of love, ~ Percy Bysshe Shelley
8:for the evil man has no future; the lamp of the wicked ~ Anonymous
9:God is the electricity and we are the lamps. ~ Marianne Williamson
10:All darkness vanished, when I saw the Lamp within my heart. ~ Kabir
11:Love, which is lust, is the Lamp in the Tomb. ~ William Ernest Henley
12:Anger is the wind which blows out the lamp of the mind. ~ Bodie Thoene
13:God's grace is the oil that fills the lamp of love. ~ Henry Ward Beecher
14:The lamps are burning and the starry sky is over it all. ~ Vincent Van Gogh
15:It's easy, once the lamps are lit, to scoff at shadows. ~ Adrian Tchaikovsky
16:The lamp of genius burns quicker than the lamp of life. ~ Friedrich Schiller
17:Anger is a wind which blows out the lamp of the mind. ~ Robert Green Ingersoll
18:... history - the lamp which illumines national character... ~ Lawrence Durrell
19:Many who tried to enlighten were hanged from the lamppost. ~ Stanislaw Jerzy Lec
20:Death is turning out the lamp because the dawn has appeared. ~ Rabindranath Tagore
21:Sometimes you're the lamp post, and sometimes you're the dog. ~ Catherine Steadman
22:Still the race of hero spirits pass the lamp from hand to hand. ~ Charles Kingsley
23:It never fails - you get in the bath and there's a rub at the lamp ~ Robin Williams
24:Why should the lamp or the house be an art object but not our life? ~ Michel Foucault
25:Purification is but the cleaning of the lamp-glass which hides the Light ~ Annie Besant
26:Good-bye,” he says. “Bring back the lamp.” Not going to happen, mister. ~ Sarah Mlynowski
27:In order to keep the lamp burning you have to keep putting the oil in it. ~ Mother Teresa
28:Those dreams are true which we have in the morning, as the lamp begins to flicker. ~ Ovid
29:Now deep in ocean sunk the lamp of light, And drew behind the cloudy vale of night. ~ Homer
30:Pythias once, scoffing at Demosthenes, said that his arguments smelt of the lamp. ~ Plutarch
31:Below him, the lamplighter was lighting the lamps that lined the wide avenue. ~ Kate DiCamillo
32:Just as the lamp burns bright when wick and oil are clean, so is it with our minds. ~ Jeff Wheeler
33:Let not the hours pass by in the dark. Kindle the lamp of love with thy life. ~ Rabindranath Tagore
34:I have but one lamp by which my feet are guided, and that is the lamp of experience. ~ Patrick Henry
35:The lamp of war is kindled here, not to be extinguished but by torrents of blood. ~ Thomas Jefferson
36:Then she leans over, brushes her lips against his forehead, and turns off the lamp. ~ Kiersten White
37:All fled—all done, so lift me on the pyre— The Feast is over, and the lamps expire. ~ Robert E Howard
38:But that's life, isn't it? Sometimes you're the dog; sometimes you're the lamppost. ~ Catherine Steadman
39:But that’s life, isn’t it? Sometimes you’re the dog; sometimes you’re the lamppost. ~ Catherine Steadman
40:The lamps are lit, the fires burn bright. The house is full of life and light. ~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
41:All fled—all done, so lift me on the pyre—

The Feast is over, and the lamps expire. ~ Robert E Howard
42:If the American people knew what we have done, they would string us up from the lamp posts. ~ George H W Bush
43:Perhaps the woman was waiting beneath the lamps for cats to drop from the trees, like fruit. ~ Ramsey Campbell
44:Reflection is the lamp of the heart. If it departs, the heart will have no light. ~ Abdullah ibn Alawi al Haddad
45:The blowing mist, filled with the light of the moon, was seeking to swallow the lamps of the heavens. ~ Anne Rice
46:All those other things, they are the glass that contains the lamp, but you are the light inside. ~ Cassandra Clare
47:And the lamp of my soul is alight with love, for life, and the world, and the Giver. ~ Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Heresy
48:A gust of wind blows in through the porch with the sound of shaken leaves. The flame of the lamp leaps. ~ James Joyce
49:because the moon has always been to him the lamp of wisdom, a symbol of the right way to see the world. ~ Dean Koontz
50:Death is not extinguishing the light; it is only putting out the lamp because the dawn has come. ~ Rabindranath Tagore
51:The truth of love is the truth of the universe: it is the lamp of the soul that reveals the secrets of darkness ~ Kabir
52:I have said: "Blow out the lamp! Day is here!" And you keep saying: "Give me a lamp so I can find the day. ~ Frank Herbert
53:I have come to light the lamp of love in your hearts, to see that it shines day by day with added luster. ~ Sathya Sai Baba
54:Argument cannot be answered with insults. Kindness is strength; anger blows out the lamp of the mind. ~ Robert Green Ingersoll
55:All people, all possible permutations of good, evil, thought, passion. The lamps are different, But the Light is the same. ~ Rumi
56:Writers are lampposts and critics are dogs. Ask lampposts what they think about dogs. Does the dog hurt the lamppost? ~ Paulo Coelho
57:The lamps are going out all over Europe; we shall not see them lit again in our lifetime. ~ Edward Grey 1st Viscount Grey of Fallodon
58:... while the light burning within may have been divine, the outer case of the lamp was assuredly cheap enough. ~ Rebecca Harding Davis
59:When the lamp is shattered The light in the dust lies dead - When the cloud is scattered The rainbow's glory is shed. ~ Percy Bysshe Shelley
60:The lamps are different, but the Light is the same. One matter, one energy, one Light, one Light-mind, endlessly emanating all things. ~ Rumi
61:Hey, I may show up a little late to the party, but once I get there, I’ve got the lampshade on my head and I’m dancin’ on the table. ~ Cardeno C
62:The overhead light isn’t on, just the lamp on the night table. Its glow encloses them and gives them their own little place to be. ~ Stephen King
63:The apartment had never been darker.
I turned on the lamp.
It became bright around us.
The apartment became darker. ~ Jonathan Safran Foer
64:Just at present you only see the tree by the light of the lamp. I wonder when you would ever see the lamp by the light of the tree. ~ G K Chesterton
65:He had no wish to face whatever lurked in the unknown darkness, just beyond the little circle of light cast by the lamp of Science. ~ Arthur C Clarke
66:‎We have a lamp inside us. The oil of that lamp is our breathing, our steps, and our peaceful smile. Our practice is to light up the lamp. ~ Nhat Hanh
67:When I left the Lampoon, I went west to try that out, and discovered that I hated it.They were awful people turning out awful product . ~ P J O Rourke
68:This is the land of Narnia,' said the Faun, 'where we are now; all that lies between the lamp-post and the great castle of Cair Paravel.... ~ C S Lewis
69:Well...I need the lamp. And the ashtray. And the remote control. And the paddleball game. And you, Dean Holder. But that's all I need. ~ Colleen Hoover
70:If, when reading and walking at the same time, he bumped into a lamppost, he would apologize and check that the lamppost was unhurt. ~ Katherine Rundell
71:The road to Hell is paved with the bones of priests and monks, and the skulls of bishops are the lamp posts that light the path. ~ Saint John Chrysostom
72:The object of any tyrant would be to overthrow or diminish trial by jury, for it is the lamp that shows that freedom lives. ~ Patrick Devlin Baron Devlin
73:I had a classmate who fitted for college by the lamps of a lighthouse, which was more light, we think, than the University afforded. ~ Henry David Thoreau
74:I have no form, I have no name. I am the Slave of the Lamp, and your will is my will. Your wishes are my commands.” ~ Jessica KhouryZahra ~ Jessica Khoury
75:Just at present you only see the tree by the light of the lamp. I wonder when you would ever see the lamp by the light of the tree. ~ Gilbert K Chesterton
76:turned down all the lamps and padded to my room in the dark. Soundlessly, I packed my few things quickly and was on my way before midnight. ~ Paula McLain
77:Madame Defarge immediately called to her husband that she would get them, and went, knitting, out of the lamplight, through the courtyard ~ Charles Dickens
78:I have but one lamp by which my feet are guided, and that is the lamp of experience. I know no way of judging of the future but by the past. ~ Edward Gibbon
79:The young man who appeared at the mouth of the alley was pale in the lamplight—paler even than he usually was, which was quite pale indeed. ~ Cassandra Clare
80:‎"We have a lamp inside us. The oil of that lamp is our breathing, our steps, and our peaceful smile. Our practice is to light up the lamp. ~ Thich Nhat Hanh
81:To keep the body in good health is a duty, for otherwise we shall not be able to trim the lamp of wisdom, and keep our mind strong and clear. ~ Gautama Buddha
82:his head burst in a blizzard of seeds that hung in the lamplight and drifted slowly to the ground like a tiny division of poison paratroopers. ~ Jeff VanderMeer
83:In the wake of Animal House, all of us at the Lampoon had a lot of Hollywood opportunities. We could definitely get people to return phone calls. ~ P J O Rourke
84:The young man who appeared at the mouth of the alley was pale in
the lamplight—paler even than he usually was, which was quite pale indeed. ~ Cassandra Clare
85:You are a lamp to give light to people; you must mount the lamp stand and shine bright! Don't hide your gifts; expose and share them freely! ~ Israelmore Ayivor
86:Baba's words and actions have lit the lamp of love in the hearts of devotees and they will always remember him for the good things he has done. ~ Sathya Sai Baba
87:At night the bottom of the valley looks like water, and the lamps in the little town lying along it like quivering reflections of the stars. ~ Elizabeth von Arnim
88:He looked at me again and his eyes shone in the lamplight, or with the inner light of delighted anticipation.
His enthusiasm made him beautiful. ~ Rachel Hartman
89:It's as if the city has become a library of books in an unknown language, the houses great shelves of illegible volumes, the lamps all extinguished. ~ Anthony Doerr
90:Then, like before, the flame started to go out again.
'Oh for fuck's sake!' I shook the lamp back and forth, screaming, 'Fuuuuck! Fuck you, lamp! ~ Karina Halle
91:So the last night the girl and her lover would be together, the girl would bring the lamp and set it so it threw the lover's shadow to the wall!!!!! ~ Chuck Palahniuk
92:And indeed, what is better than to sit by one's fireside in the evening with a book, while the wind beats against the window and the lamp is buring? ~ Gustave Flaubert
93:This is the land of Narnia,' said the Faun, 'where we are now; all that lies between the lamp-post and the great castle of Cair Paravel on the eastern sea. ~ C S Lewis
94:And indeed, what is better than to sit by one's fireside in the evening with a book, while the wind beats against the window and the lamp is burning? ~ Gustave Flaubert
95:The days were lengthening. A wet primrose light lay over Wells Road. The lamps were like jewels, pale but piercingly bright. The air... fresh and mild. ~ Dorothy Whipple
96:I leave you, hoping that the lamp of liberty will burn in your bosoms until there shall no longer be a doubt that all mean are created free and equal. ~ Seth Grahame Smith
97:To sit alone in the lamplight with a book spread out before you and hold intimate converse with men of unseen generations - such is pleasure beyond compare. ~ Yoshida Kenk
98:The eye is the lamp of the body. If your eye is clear, your whole body will be full of light. But if your eye is bad, your whole body will be full of darkness. ~ Ted Dekker
99:To sit alone in the lamplight with a book spread out before you, and hold intimate converse with men of unseen generations such is a pleasure beyond compare. ~ Yoshida Kenk
100:Demosthenes, when taunted by Pytheas that all his arguments "smelled of the lamp," replied, "Yes, but your lamp and mine, my friend, do not witness the same labours. ~ Plutarch
101:Not, not mine: it's somebody else's wound; I could never have borne it. So take the thing that happened, hide it, stick it in the ground; whisk the lamps away. ~ Anna Akhmatova
102:A person writing at night may put out the lamp, but the words he has written will remain. It is the same with the destiny we create for ourselves in this world. ~ Gautama Buddha
103:That's all I need," I say. "Well...I need the lamp. And the astray. And the remote control. And the paddleball game. And you, Dean Holder. But that's all I need ~ Colleen Hoover
104:The highest teaching is never written down. It's only communicated from teacher to student because it's a "transmission of the lamp." It's a transmission of mind. ~ Frederick Lenz
105:To sit alone in the lamplight with a book spread out before you, and hold intimate converse with men of unseen generations-such is a pleasure beyond compare. ~ Lucia St Clair Robson
106:Anyone who does not acknowledge the darkness in his nature will succumb to it...the lamp of conviction needs to be shaded by doubt, or it burns with a blinding light. ~ Philip Caputo
107:cement in bold relief,—far underground. I lean my elbows on the table, and the lamp lights brightly the newspapers I am fool enough to re-read, and the absurd books. ~ Arthur Rimbaud
108:The night was now fast advancing. The Lamps were not yet lighted. The faint beams of the rising Moon scarcely could pierce through the gothic obscurity* of the Church. ~ Matthew Lewis
109:I was mainly a stage actor. I found film acting mechanical, because it was so technical - there was so much technique with the lamps and the movements of the camera. ~ Erland Josephson
110:How can we expect that the illiterate and benighted child of want will remain faithful . . . when he in whose breast the lamp of science brightly burns is found derelict? ~ Paul Collins
111:But the earth keeps spinning, the waves keep crashing, the lamp in the lighthouse keeps turning. Nothing stops just because I feel as though it should. Just because I’m lost. ~ Carrie Ryan
112:Each day we trudge through factory gates and lean into our traces and forget. Death and worse are easily dismissed over dram and darts while the lamp shines warm and cozy. ~ Simon Strantzas
113:We call it the transmission of the lamp in Zen. That's when we take enlightened states of mind and literally, you can transfer them, just like you can hand somebody flowers. ~ Frederick Lenz
114:There's something unrefined about a reading woman, they always reek of the lamp. How can she grow up to be a lady if she's always got her nose
in a book?

Granny Rudin ~ Florence King
115:All the same,” replied Syme patiently, “just at present you only see the tree by the light of the lamp. I wonder when you would ever see the lamp by the light of the tree. ~ Garth Risk Hallberg
116:Goodbye, Zahra,” says the princess, and she pulls her arm back, preparing to throw the lamp.
“Do it, Princess,” says a voice, “and I will tear your head from your shoulders. ~ Jessica Khoury
117:There's something unrefined about a reading woman, they always reek of the lamp. How can she grow up to be a lady if she's always got her nose
in a book?

Granny Rudin ~ Florence King
118:Tahtahta-ha-ha' clattered the wheels. A lamp outside the window nodded to him. Another. A third. The lamps ceased to wink. Night without winking clung to the windows.

("Adam") ~ Andrei Bely
119:The same God who directs the earth in its orbit, who feeds the burning furnace of the sun, and trims the lamps of heaven, has promised to supply thee with daily strength. ~ Charles Haddon Spurgeon
120:Understand the secret unseen ways of heart to heart contact like this:

When two lamps are being lit.

The lamps will remain separate

But their light will become intermixed ~ Rumi
121:At times he would become so absorbed in reading, that all the kerosene in the lamp would burn out, and still he could not tear himself away. And so Avdyeitch used to read every evening. ~ Leo Tolstoy
122:Nothing can bring the hurt of loneliness upon a man so swiftly as to pass a strange house in the dark and witness, in the lamplight from within, a family breaking evening bread together. ~ Og Mandino
123:We’re survivors he told her across the flame of the lamp. Survivors? she said. Yes. What in God’s name are you talking about? We’re not survivors. We’re the walking dead in a horror film. ~ Anonymous
124:He cut the veil of the rock; the hooves clattered the bellowing waters below him in the dark. The lamp brought the moon from the blade, and the blade the bull from the rock. The ice rang. ~ Alan Garner
125:Braving obstacles and hardships is nobler than retreat to tranquility. The butterfly that hovers around the lamp until it dies is more admirable than the mole that lives in a dark tunnel. ~ Khalil Gibran
126:Does the light of the lamp shine without losing its splendour until it is extinguished; and shall the truth which is in thee and justice and temperance be extinguished before thy death? ~ Marcus Aurelius
127:The lamp you lighted in the olden time Will show you my heart's-blood beating through the rhyme: A poet's journal, writ in fire and tears... Then slow deliverance, with the gaps of years. ~ Bayard Taylor
128:a “The eye is the lamp of the body. So, if your eye is healthy, your whole body will be full of light, 23 a but if  b your eye is bad, your whole body will be full of darkness. If then the light ~ Anonymous
129:If you have a soul of a warrior, you are a warrior. Whatever the color, the shape, the design of the shade that conceals it, the flame inside the lamp remains the same. You are that flame. ~ Cassandra Clare
130:Knives,’ muttered Calder, ‘and threats, and bribes, and war?’

Bayaz’ eyes shone with the lamplight. ‘Yes?’

‘What kind of a fucking wizard are you?’

‘The kind you obey. ~ Joe Abercrombie
131:As a general principle, if we would exercise our memories more wisely, we might, in our very darkest distress, strike a match which would instantaneously kindle the lamp of comfort. ~ Charles Haddon Spurgeon
132:Give of thy love, nor wait to know the worth Of what thou lovest; and ask no returning. And wheresoe'er thy pathway leads on earth, There thou shalt find the lamp of love-light burning. ~ Ella Wheeler Wilcox
133:Why is the TV on, and why aren't you on the way to naked?"...
"My head and the rest of me" - he drew her attention to his erection - "heard sex. No putting that genie back in the lamp... ~ Mary J Williams
134:Why is the TV on, and why aren't you on the way to naked?"...
"My head and the rest of me" - he drew her attention to his erection - "heard sex. No putting that genie back in the lamp... ~ Mary J Williams
135:The child, in love with prints and maps,
Holds the whole world in his vast appetite.
How large the earth is under the lamplight!
But in the eyes of memory, how the world is cramped! ~ Charles Baudelaire
136:Andre was propped in bed, reading by the light of the lamp. He looked up when she entered. "You look beautiful, my dear. I predict the local swains will find you more delectable than the ice cream. ~ Debra Holland
137:And books all over the floor, some stacked in piles, some worn-looking, some brand-new, some splayed upside down, some sliding off the pink bedside table next to the lamp with the orange fabric shade. ~ Rebecca Stead
138:I found that the writer who says SUBLATA LUCERNA NULLUM DISCRIMEN INTER MULIERES ('when the lamp is taken away, all women are alike') says true; but without love, this great business is a vile thing. ~ Giacomo Casanova
139:Most men get their deepest conviction of self-worth from a woman, wife, mother, or if they are highly conscious, from their own anima. The woman sees and shows the man his value by lighting the lamp. ~ Robert A Johnson
140:The love in a marriage turns like the lamp in a lighthouse, leaving you in darkness for long stretches, but it always comes back. I believe that but I can't tell whether it is a thought or a quotation. ~ Marcel Theroux
141:You are as the yellow leaf. The messengers of death are at hand. You are to travel far away. What will you take with you? You are the lamp To lighten the way. Then hurry, hurry. When your light shines. ~ Gautama Buddha
142:One man may read the Bhagavata by the light of a lamp, and another may commit a forgery by that very light; but the lamp is unaffected. The sun sheds its light on the wicked as well as on the virtuous. ~ Sri Ramakrishna
143:All is mute in the being, but in the bosom of the silence burns the lamp that can never be extinguished, the fire of an ardent aspiration to know and to love integrally the Divine.
   ~ The Mother, Words Of The Mother II,
144:Then says Mrs. Hauksbee to me – she looked a trifle faded and jaded in the lamplight: “Take my word for it, the silliest woman can manage a clever man; but it needs a very clever woman to manage a fool. ~ Rudyard Kipling
145:He would sit all night under the lamp, book of the moment in front of him, dictionary and thesaurus on either side, wringing the meaning out of every word, punching ceaselessly at his own ignorance. When ~ Terry Pratchett
146:In those helter-skelter days of journalism between the Spanish-American War and World War I, the newsies shouting the headlines were as much a part of the urban street scene as the lampposts on every corner. ~ David Nasaw
147:No matter how long the room has been dark, an hour or a million years, the moment the lamp of awareness is lit the entire room becomes luminous. You are that luminosity. You are that clear light. ~ Tenzin Wangyal Rinpoche
148:On each race is laid the duty to keep alight its own lamp of mind as its part in the illumination of the world. To break the lamp of any people into deprive it of its rightful place in the world festival. ~ Rabindranath Tagore
149:The Parade
Along the lamp-lit streets they glide and go:
Here Nature in her brutishness is nude:
See, thinly trickling from the age-old wound,
The steady stream of squandered womanhood!
~ Arthur Henry Adams
150:They had run out of words.... Then he and the Lamp were gone.... Ruse swallowed hard and then began counting bones again in the dark. Then when he reached the right elbow he stopped, and started counting suspects. ~ Ruth Downie
151:Annamaria had preferred oil rather than electric lamps. She said that sunshine grows plants, the plants express essential oils, and years later those oils fire the lamps - giving back 'the light of the other days'. ~ Dean Koontz
152:The man looked worse in the lamplight. His skin washed of pigment. Tim’s mind conjured a weird image: the last few sips at the bottom of a Slurpee cup, the color all sucked out, only the tasteless ice crystals left. ~ Nick Cutter
153:...and the lamp having at last resigned itself to death. There was nothing now but firelight in the room, And every time a flame uttered a gasp for breath It flushed her amber skin with the blood of its bloom. ~ Charles Baudelaire
154:In oratory affectation must be avoided; it being better for a man by a native and clear eloquence to express himself than by those words which may smell either of the lamp or inkhorn. ~ Edward Herbert 1st Baron Herbert of Cherbury
155:The cottage door slammed behind Janner and Tink as Slarb the Fang emerged in the lamplight and shoved them across the room. The boys crashed into one another and went sprawling to the floor, atop the burbleskin rug. ~ Andrew Peterson
156:The cubs began to tell him the story of the big bird that flew in the window and broke the lamp. It was harder to tell the second time. For one thing, they couldn’t quite remember how they had told it the first time. ~ Stan Berenstain
157:Love is not a possession but a growth. The heart is a lamp with just oil enough to burn for an hour, and if there be no oil to put in again its light will go out. God's grace is the oil that fills the lamp of love. ~ Henry Ward Beecher
158:The Lampoon started in 1970, and I began writing freelance for them around the end of 1971, and then all through '72. They hired me in '73, and I left early in '81. I did everything from low puns to being editor-in-chief. ~ P J O Rourke
159:The Lady with the Lamp, the Statue of Liberty, stands in New York Harbour. Her back is squarely turned on the USA. It’s no wonder, considering what she would have to look upon. She would weep, if she had to face this way. ~ Claudia Jones
160:...and the lamp having at last resigned itself to death.
There was nothing now but firelight in the room,
And every time a flame uttered a gasp for breath
It flushed her amber skin with the blood of its bloom. ~ Charles Baudelaire
161:Arguments cannot be answered with insults. . . . Kindness is strength. . . . Anger blows out the lamp of the mind. In the examination of a great and important question, every one should be serene, slow-pulsed, and calm. ~ Robert Green Ingersoll
162:He lifted his head, the sight of his dark, disheveled hair, eyes glinting with longing in the lamp light, the gorgeous spread of his shoulders, tapering down to the narrow thrust of his hips, made my ovaries ache deep in my belly. ~ Emme Rollins
163:What patient can trust the knowledge of a physician without reputation or furniture, in a period when publicity is all-powerful and when the government gilds the lamp posts on the Place de la Concorde in order to dazzle the poor? ~ Honore de Balzac
164:22“The eye is the lamp of the body. If your eyes are good, your whole body will be full of light. 23But if your eyes are bad, your whole body will be full of darkness. If then the light within you is darkness, how great is that darkness! ~ Anonymous
165:And from th’ Antarctic Pole eastward behold
As much more land, which never was descried,
Wherein are rocks of pearl that shine as bright
As all the lamps that beautify the sky;
And shall I die, and this unconquerèd? ~ Christopher Marlowe
166:Only one of the five Pandava brothers could light the lamp. Do you know where he went, human girl?" Aru lifted her chin. "I lit the lamp." The bird stared. And then stared some more. "Well, then, we might as well let the world end. ~ Roshani Chokshi
167:Emergencies have always been necessary to progress. It was darkness which produced the lamp. It was fog that produced the compass. It was hunger that drove us to exploration. And it took a depression to teach us the real value of a job. ~ Victor Hugo
168:Whatever you are physically: male or female, strong or weak, ill or healthy, all those things matter less than what your heart contains. All those other things, they are the glass that contains the lamp, but you are the light inside. ~ Cassandra Clare
169:There was the lamp--dead indeed, and so changed that she would never have taken it for a lamp but for the shape! No, it was not the lamp anymore now it was dead, for all that made it a lamp was gone, namely, the bright shining of it. ~ George MacDonald
170:You’re a—you’re a—”
Say it, boy. Demon of fire. Monster of smoke. Devil of sand and ash. Servant of Nardukha, Daughter of Ambadya, the Nameless, the Faceless, the Limitless. Slave of the Lamp. Jinni.
“. . . a girl!” he finishes. ~ Jessica Khoury
171:The lamplight gleamed on the Magus’ white grin. “People like to watch the pretty puppets, Superior. Even a glimpse of the puppeteer can be most upsetting for them. Why, they might even suddenly notice the strings around their own wrists ~ Joe Abercrombie
172:Don’t you see?” said Digory. “This is where the bar fell—the bar she tore off the lamp-post at home. It sank into the ground and now it’s coming up as a young lamp-post.” (But not so very young now; it was as tall as Digory while he said this.) ~ C S Lewis
173:We strove for a name,
while the light of the lamps burnt thin
and the outer dawn came in,
a ghost, the last at the feast
or the first,
to sit within
with the two that remained
to quibble in flowers and verse
over a girl's name. ~ H D
174:The lamplight was eerie, and, standing there motionless in our bathrobes, sleepy, with shadows flickering all around, I felt as though I had woken from one dream into an even more remote one, some bizarre wartime bomb shelter of the unconscious. ~ Donna Tartt
175:That would be fine,” she said “If we’re alone, we’ll leave the lamp lighted so that we can see each other, and I can holler as much as I want without anybody’s having to butt in, and you can whisper in my ear any crap you can think of. ~ Gabriel Garc a M rquez
176:The lamps were lit, and a good fire crackled in the great stone fireplace. There was a discreet chink of china, the brightness of silver teapot and muffin cover, the comforting smell mingled of steaming hot water, toast and a little sweet tobacco. ~ Susan Hill
177:He walked from one end of the basement to the other, the lamplight magnifying his shadow. It turned him into a giant on the wall, walking back and forth. When he stopped pacing, his shadow loomed behind him, watching. Someone was always watching. ~ Markus Zusak
178:You don’t have to believe in God to do the programme. You just have to accept that there’s a higher power – it could be the lamp in the corner of the room, for all they care. Some people use nature, the ocean, their d**k – whatever comes to mind. ~ Ozzy Osbourne
179:A thing is right when it tends to promote the integrity, beauty and stability of the biotic community," famed Wisconsin naturalist Aldo Leopold wrote in 1949, which happened to be teh peak of the lamprey invasion. " It is wrong when it tends otherwise. ~ Dan Egan
180:Nevertheless, the members of the Board of Trade were so delighted with the lamps that they decided to change Austin’s official nickname from “City of the Violet Crown” (in honor of Austin’s stunning sunsets) to “The City of Eternal Moonlight. ~ Skip Hollandsworth
181:History was like an old house at night. With all the lamps lit. And ancestor whispering inside. To understand history, we have to go inside and listen to what they're saying. And look at the books and the pictures on the wall. And smell the smells. ~ Arundhati Roy
182:God has bestowed upon you intelligence and knowledge. Do not extinguish the lamp of Divine Grace and do not let the candle of wisdom die out in the darkness of lust and error. For a wise man approaches with his torch to light up the path of mankind. ~ Khalil Gibran
183:She switched the headlamp on and saw bats clinging to the side of the cave inches from her face. Someone whimpered. She supposed it was her. She switched the lamp off and played out the rope, dropping more slowly, trying to control the whimpering. ~ Janet Evanovich
184:And here is the sense of its existence: it is conscious of being superfluous. It dilutes, scatters itself, tries to lose itself on the brown wall, along the lamp post or down there in the evening mist. But it never forgets itself. That is its lot. ~ Jean Paul Sartre
185:If you don't take the lamp of awareness with you, you are going to create a hell around you. Light your lamp wherever you gocourting, not courting, that is not the point. Wherever you go, whatsoever you do, always do it in the inner light, with awareness. ~ Rajneesh
186:Come on, Ella. Sleep green.' Ignoring him, I got into bed wearing a T-shirt and boxer shorts printed with penguins. I reached over to the nightstand and flipped off the lamp. A moment of silence, and then I heard a lecherous murmur. 'I like your penguins. ~ Lisa Kleypas
187:So many windows are dark. It's as if the city has become a library of books in an unknown language, the houses great shelves of illegible volumes, the lamps all extinguished.

But there is a machine in the attic at work again. A spark in the night. ~ Anthony Doerr
188:Glitterdust across a broad expanse of blue. Before me, the water unfurled like dark swaths of shadowed silk, colors muted, reflections cast by the lamps hanging from the prows of the gondolas rippling, and my heart swelled at the beauty and the romance of it. ~ Megan Chance
189:At Last, To Be Identified!
174
At last, to be identified!
At last, the lamps upon thy side
The rest of Life to see!
Past Midnight! Past the Morning Star!
Past Sunrise!
Ah, What leagues there were
Between our feet, and Day!
~ Emily Dickinson
190:Come on, Ella. Sleep green.'
Ignoring him, I got into bed wearing a T-shirt and boxer shorts printed with penguins. I reached over to the nightstand and flipped off the lamp.
A moment of silence, and then I heard a lecherous murmur. 'I like your penguins. ~ Lisa Kleypas
191:Alan lowered the lamp flame until there was only a glimmer of light in the room. His skin burned with fever as he climbed into bed beside Huiann. He felt like a groom on his wedding night except, he reminded himself, there would be no copulation. None. Not tonight. ~ Bonnie Dee
192:A yawning gap of seven feet lay in front of her. She handed the lamp to Raghava and took a few steps back. ‘You are crazy,’ she heard him say as she ran and gracefully leaped over the gap. She landed safely on the other side, though the bridge swayed wildly. ~ Anand Neelakantan
193:Thus, when the lamp that lighted The traveller at first goes out, He feels awhile benighted, And looks around in fear and doubt. But soon, the prospect clearing, By cloudless starlight on he treads, And thinks no lamp so cheering As that light which Heaven sheds. ~ Charles Lamb
194:But I won't bore you any longer on the subject of old men. It won't make things any better and all my plans of revenge (such as disconnecting the lamp, shutting the door, hiding his clothes) must be abandoned in order to keep the peace. Oh, I'm becoming so sensible! ~ Anne Frank
195:I sat up straight and looked down at my pad, and then I realized: I'd been sketching you, really. I mean, I'd drawn the lamp, and the chaos on the desk, but I'd given it your soul. I'd given that lamp your optimism, your bright face looking down on all the havoc. ~ Steve Brezenoff
196:Neither in environment nor in heredity can I find the exact instrument that fashioned me, the anonymous roller that pressed upon my life a certain intricate watermark whose unique design becomes visible when the lamp of art is made to shine through life's foolscap. ~ Vladimir Nabokov
197:In Whitehall that evening, Sir Edward Grey, standing with a friend at the window as the street lamps below were being lit, made the remark that has since epitomized the hour: “The lamps are going out all over Europe; we shall not see them lit again in our lifetime. ~ Barbara W Tuchman
198:The lamp tipped over, nailing Kane in the head.
Sabin shook his head. The man was a walking disaster Literally. Whenever Kane stepped into a room, things went to hell pretty quickly. Sabin expected the ceiling to cave in any moment. And yea, it had happened before. ~ Gena Showalter
199:As he spoke he smiled, and the lamplight fell on a hard-looking mouth, with very red lips and sharp-looking teeth, as white as ivory. One of my companions whispered to another the line from Burger's "Lenore". "Denn die Todten reiten Schnell." ("For the dead travel fast.") ~ Bram Stoker
200:Neither in environment nor in heredity can I find the exact instrument that fashioned me, the a.non.y.muse roller that passed upon my life a certain intricate watermark whose unique design becomes visible when the lamp of art is made to shine through life's foolscap. ~ Vladimir Nabokov
201:We've gotten caught up in thinking we are what we look like, the physical, the exterior. We think we're the lamp shade. We've forgotten that we are the light-the electricity and the luminosity that lights up every man, woman, and child. The light is who we truly are. ~ Michael Beckwith
202:Just as a lamp waved in darkness creates a figure of light in the air, which remains for as long as the lamp repeats its motion exactly, so the universe retains its shape by repetition: the universe is Time's body. And how will we perceive this body? And how operate on it? ~ John Crowley
203:Now that I was back in the mortal world, this crowded taproom seemed strange to me. How odd to be indoors, rather than under the naked sky. The thick-timbered wooden benches and tables looked so primitive and rough. The lamplight seemed unnaturally bright and harsh to my eyes. ~ Anonymous
204:You hate people. Because, really, you’re afraid of them, aren’t you? Always have been, ever since you were a little tyke. Rather snuggle up in a chair under the lamp and read. You did it thirty years ago, and you’re still doing it now. Hiding away under the covers of a book. ~ Robert Bloch
205:Because now there's time enough not to hurry, to light the lamp and open the window to the moon and take a moment to dream of a great and broken city, because when the day starts its business I'll have to stop, these are night-time tales that vanish in the sunlight like vampire dust ~ Jeet Thayil
206:The fog still slept on the wing above the drowned city, where the lamps glimmered like carbuncles; and through the muffle and smother of these fallen clouds, the procession of the town's life was still rolling in through the great arteries with a sound as of a mighty wind. ~ Robert Louis Stevenson
207:What does a lamp do? The lamp is like a horse that is running but stays put. But by virtue of being a lamp it illuminates the space around it. Therefore, the practice of purifying one's soul, of living virtuously, has tremendous impacts upon the ethics of the surrounding society. ~ Seyyed Hossein Nasr
208:The lamp that is aglow in the obedient life will shine. The city set on the hill cannot be hid. Obedience to Christ from the heart and by the Spirit is such a radical reality that those who live in it automatically realize the unity that can never be achieved by direct efforts at union. ~ Dallas Willard
209:Men lived among mighty mountains and eternal forests for ages before they realized that they were poetical; it may reasonably be inferred that some of our descendants may see the chimney-pots as rich a purple as the mountain-peaks, and find the lamp-posts as old and natural as the trees. ~ G K Chesterton
210:For three things I thank God every day of my life: thanks that he has vouchsafed me knowledge of his works; deep thanks that he has set in my darkness the lamp of faith; deep, deepest thanks that I have another life to look forward to--a life joyous with light and flowers and heavenly song. ~ Helen Keller
211:Whatever you are physically...male or female, strong or weak, ill or healthy--all those things matter less than what your heart contains. If you have the soul of a warrior, you are a warrior. All those other things, they are the glass that contains the lamp, but you are the light inside. ~ Cassandra Clare
212:Whatever you are physically… male or female, strong or weak, ill or healthy — all those things matter less than what your heart contains. If you have the soul of a warrior, you are a warrior. All those other things, they are the glass that contains the lamp, but you are the light inside. ~ Cassandra Clare
213:We often forget that the Author of our faith must be the Preserver of it also. The lamp which was burning in the temple was never allowed to go out, but it had to be daily replenished with fresh oil; in like manner, our faith can only live by being sustained with the oil of grace, ~ Charles Haddon Spurgeon
214:The ego is nothing but condensed unawareness. When you become aware by and by that condensed unawareness we call 'ego' disappears. Just as if you bring a lamp into the room - and the darkness disappears. Awareness is the lamp, the lamp we were talking about the first day. Be a lamp unto yourself. ~ Rajneesh
215:Whatever you are physically... male or female, strong or weak, ill or healthy – all those things matter less than what your heart contains. If you have the soul of a warrior, you are a warrior. All those other things, they are the glass that contains the lamp, but you are the light inside. ~ Cassandra Clare
216:You know Case, who oversees the dairy? He saw us together in the loft last week. He says I'm the biggest fool who ever lived. I don't think he's right. But, just to be safe, I'll put out the lamp. We'll pretend we're the ancient explorers, and find our way by the stars.
Yours,
Kai ~ Diana Peterfreund
217:The Lamp Burns Sure—within
233
The Lamp burns sure—within—
Tho' Serfs—supply the Oil—
It matters not the busy Wick—
At her phosphoric toil!
The Slave—forgets—to fill—
The Lamp—burns golden—on—
Unconscious that the oil is out—
As that the Slave—is gone.
~ Emily Dickinson
218:Nigel gave the lamp a cautious buff and small smoking red letters appeared in the air. "Hi," Nigel read aloud, "Do not put down the lamp because your custom is important to us. Please leave a wish after the tone and, very shortly, it will be our command. In the meantime, have a nice eternity." ~ Terry Pratchett
219:There's a mouse in here with me. He's sitting there in the light of the lamp, looking up at me. He seems as surprised to see me as I am to see him. There he goes. I can hear him still, scurrying about somewhere under the hayrick. I think he's gone now. I hope he comes back. I miss him already. ~ Michael Morpurgo
220:They’d dueled in the lamplight of her kitchen that night, savaging each other with accusations that could never be recalled. Now, he couldn’t remember half of what they’d said, only the colors and lights and seething tide of fear all around them. He could still taste the acrid burn of unfairness. ~ Lauren Gilley
221:Whatever you are physically...male or female, strong or weak, ill or healthy--all those things matter less than what your heart contains. If you have the soul of a warrior, you are a warrior. All those other things, they are the glass that contains the lamp, but you are the light inside. ~ Cassandra Clare
222:No matter what you are physically, male or female , strong or weak, sick or healthy , everything is not as important as what you have in the heart . If you have the soul of a warrior, you are a warrior . All those other things are just the glass of the lamp , but you're the light shining inside. ~ Cassandra Clare
223:The air there was heavy with the somnolence of a party prolonged into the early hours; and a dull light came from the lamps, whose charred wicks glowed red inside their globes. The ladies had reached that vaguely melancholy hour when they felt it necessary to tell each other the story of their lives. ~ mile Zola
224:She watched him in the glow of the lamplight, his broad shoulders hunched over the piano, his hair flopping over his face, and knew she couldn't fight her feelings for him any longer. Denying him wasn't going to make them go away. And looking at him right at this moment, she didn't want them to. ~ Alexandra Potter
225:When I take on a design project, I have to jet from the bookstore to the hardware shop to the lamp store and back again just to collect a small portion of the many items I need to fill a home. But, when you hit the flea market, they're all right there. From booth to booth, you have the bases covered. ~ Nate Berkus
226:The lamp sizzled as it burned. It made everything seem close and safe, a little family circle they all knew and trusted. Outside this circle lay everything that was strange and frightening, and the darkness seemed to reach higher and higher and further and further away, right to the end of the world. ~ Tove Jansson
227:Science is unflinchingly deterministic, and it has begun to force its determinism into morals. On some shining tomorrow a psychoanalyst may be put into the box to prove that perjury is simply a compulsion neurosis, like beating time with the foot at a concert or counting the lampposts along the highway. ~ H L Mencken
228:Shadow, shadow, on the wall, Who casts the longest shade of all? Is it death; or yet desire? Is it night, tamed by fire? Who’s the man who lights the lamp And calls the storm that brings the damp? Which the god who blocks the sun And fills the rivers in their run? Call the hammer, call the lightning… ~ L E Modesitt Jr
229:The world has a thousand creeds, and never a one have I;
Nor a church of my own, though a million spires are pointing the way on high.
But I float on the bosom of faith, that bears me along like a river;
And the lamp of my soul is alight with love, for life, and the world, and the Giver. ~ Ella Wheeler Wilcox
230:...he plundered the living treasure of those shelves. There was Burton's marvelous Anatomy, his staggering erudition never smelling of the dust or of the lamp...There was the dark tremendous music of Sir Thomas Browne, and Hooker's sounding and tremendous passion made great by genius and made true by faith. ~ Thomas Wolfe
231:The perfume of incense reminds us of the pervading influence of virtue, the lamp reminds us of light of knowledge and the flowers which soon fade and die, reminds us of impermanence. When we bow, we express our gratitude to the Buddha for what his teachings have given us. This is the nature of Buddhist worship. ~ Anonymous
232:Ah, when, within our narrow chamber The lamp with friendly lustre glows, Flames in the breast each faded ember, And in the heart, itself that knows. Then Hope again lends sweet assistance, And Reason then resumes her speech: One yearns, the rivers of existence, The very founts of Life, to reach. ~ Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
233:Once on a dark winter's day, when the yellow fog hung so thick and heavy in the streets of London that the lamps were lighted and the shop windows blazed with gas as they do at night, an odd-looking little girl sat in a cab with her father and was driven rather slowly through the big thoroughfares. ~ Frances Hodgson Burnett
234:Please listen to me - you are not paying attention. I am talking to you about the Holy Scriptures, and you are looking at the lamps and the people lighting them. It is very frivolous to be more interested in what the lamplighters are doing... After all, I am lighting a lamp too - the lamp of God's Word. ~ Saint John Chrysostom
235:The queen-size bed has a wooden frame and a dark-orange duvet cover and pillows. The bedside tables on both sides are identically stocked: three books, a lamp and a glasses case. I wonder if this allows my parents to swap sides during the night. I turn on one of the lamps, lighting the room like a sexy library. ~ Joe Dunthorne
236:Wisdom is the lamp of love, and love is the oil of the lamp. Love, sinking deeper, grows wiser; and wisdom that springs up aloft comes ever the nearer to love.

Love is the food of wisdom; wisdom the food of love; a circle of light within which those who love, clasp the hands of those who are wise. ~ Maurice Maeterlinck
237:Since it is the very substance of the animal, it is the blood which transports the fuel.If the animal did not habitually replace, through nourishing themselves,what they losethrough respiration, the lamp would very soon run out of oil and the animal would perish, just as the lamp goes out when it lacks fuel. ~ Antoine Lavoisier
238:Water’s still warm. I’ll take one too.” “I’ll wait outside.” “No. Your wet hair will call all the mosquitoes in the territory.” He shut the door, closing off her escape. “Susannah, I’m your husband,” he said in a low voice. The lamp flame cast deep shadows on the planes of his face. He unbuttoned his shirt. ~ Catherine Richmond
239:Woman is an incarnation of 'Shakti'- the goddess of power. If she is bestowed with education, Gujarat's strength will double. Let the campaign of 'Kanya Kelavni' be spread in every home. Let the lamp of educating daughters be lit up in every heart. Then only the vision of 'Jay Jay Garvi Gujarat' will be realized. ~ Narendra Modi
240:There is the darkness of a moonless night out of doors, and there is the darkness of a house with its shutters closed and the lamps quenched. There is the darkness of sleep, relieved by the bright images of dreams But no darkness is as complete, as blanketing, as terrifying as the utter darkness of underground. ~ Juliet Marillier
241:1.5 billion people lack proper access to electricity. Many buy kerosene, which can cost 30 percent of their income. It sends millions of metric tons of carbon dioxide into the atmosphere every year. And often the lamp will fall over and catch the house on fire. So mothers hate it, but it's their only option. ~ Jacqueline Novogratz
242:But her advice still worked for me: she told me not to let it make me angry, not to let it break my heart, but to remember that we all lose the things we love the most and how we have to remember that we were lucky to have them at all in the first place. Sometimes you’re the lamppost; sometimes you’re the dog. ~ Catherine Steadman
243:The meditation I am talking about is not a meditation on something. If you light a lamp and remove all the objects surrounding it, the lamp will still go on giving light. In the same way, if you remove all objects from your consciousness, all thoughts, all imagination, what will happen? – only consciousness will remain. ~ Rajneesh
244:There is the darkness of a moonless night out of doors, and there is the darkness of a house with its shutters closed and the lamps quenched. There is the darkness of sleep, relieved by the bright images of dreams. But no darkness is as complete, as blanketing, as terrifying as the utter darkness of underground. ~ Juliet Marillier
245:I will see Master Thorn settled.” Silas paused to sniff the air beside Elisabeth. “Then, Miss Scrivener, I shall draw you a bath. I believe supper is also in order. And—has no one lit the lamps?” He looked aggrieved. “I have hardly been absent for twenty-four hours, and already the world has descended into ruin. ~ Margaret Rogerson
246:Actors become actors because they loved entertaining their family by putting on the lampshade and dancing around as a kid, ... That's not my personality. For me, the fun part of making movies is seeing it as a director sees it. I like the architecture of movies. I like knowing what's coming and working to set that up. ~ Jodie Foster
247:Outside, as she passed the kitchen window, she watched her breath appear before her in the lamplight and then it died away in moist clouds. This was the smoke of her internal fire and her soul. Every breath was a letter to the world. These she mailed into the cold air leaning back with pursed lips to send it upward. ~ Paulette Jiles
248:One I did, Travis flipped off the lamp, and then pulled me against him without permission or apology. He tensed his arms and sighed, and I nestled my face into his neck. I shut my eyes tight, trying to savor the moment. I knew I would wish for that moment back every day of my life, so I lived it with everything I had. ~ Jamie McGuire
249:Outside, as she passed the kitchen window, she watched her breath appear before her in the lamplight and then it died away in moist clouds. This was the smoke of her internal fire and her soul. Every breath was a letter to the world. These she mailed into the cold air leaning back with pursed lips to send it upward. ~ Paulette Jiles
250:You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden; 15nor does anyone light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on the lampstand, and it gives light to all who are in the house. 16Let your light shine before men in such a way that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father who is in heaven. ~ Anonymous
251:...she tore a strip from a dish towel in order to make wicks, then returned to the room where the lamp stood, it was going to be useful for the first time since it was manufactured, at first this did not appear to be its destiny, but none of us, lamps, dogs or humans, knows at the outset, why we have come into this world. ~ Jos Saramago
252:A physician who fails to enter the body of a patient with the lamp of knowledge and understanding can never treat diseases. He should first study all the factors, including environment, which influence a patient's disease, and then prescribe treatment. It is more important to prevent the occurrence of disease than to seek a cure. ~ Charaka
253:Wathever you are physically male or female, strong or weak, ill or healthy all those things matter less than what your heart contains. If you have the soul of a warrior, you are a warrior. Whatever the color, the shape, the design of the shade that conceals it, the flame inside the lamp remains the same. You are that flame. ~ Cassandra Clare
254:Whatever you are physically ... male or female, strong or weak, ill or healthy -- all those things matter less than what your heart contains. If you have the soul of a warrior, you are a warrior. All those other things, they are the glass that contains the lamp, but you are the light inside." - Jem Carstairs, Clockwork Angel ~ Cassandra Clare
255:Whatever you are physically, male or female, strong or weak, ill or healthy, all those things matter less than what your heart contains. If you have the soul of a warrior, you are a warrior. Whatever the color, the shape, the design of the shade that conceals it, the flame inside the lamp remains the same. You are that flame. ~ Cassandra Clare
256:She’d long ago given up trying to visualize God. There was no He or She. This was a Presence higher than gender, race or religion, transcending identity. All she would ever hope to do was follow the lamplit path into a place within and yet beyond her own heart and stay there and wait, patient and passive and without forced piety. ~ Phil Rickman
257:Whatever you are physically, male or female, strong or weak, ill or healthy - all those things matter less than what your heart contains. If you have the soul of a warrior, you are a warrior. Whatever the color, the shape, the design of the shade that conceals it, the flame inside the lamp remains the same. You are that flame. ~ Cassandra Clare
258:Whatever you are physically, male or female, strong or weak, ill or healthy – all those things matter less than what your heart contains. If you have the soul of a warrior, you are a warrior. Whatever the color, the shape, the design of the shade that conceals it, the flame inside the lamp remains the same. You are that flame. ~ Cassandra Clare
259:Whatever you are physically, male or female, strong or weak, ill or healthy - all those things matter less than what your heart contains. If you have the spul of a warrior, you are a warrior. Whatever the color, the shape, the design of the shade that conceals it, the flame inside the lamp remains the same. You are that flame. ~ Cassandra Clare
260:As I lit the last of the lamps, I thought about the day they’d told me my sister was dead, killed by the Romans. The women of the tribes of Prydain—Cantii and Catuvellauni, Trinovantes and Iceni—could choose to fight alongside the men or not. Many did and with such skill that they were feared as much as the men—more so, even. ~ Lesley Livingston
261:It was a dark and stormy night; the rain fell in torrents, except at occasional intervals, when it was checked by a violent gust of wind which swept up the streets (for it is in London that our scene lies), rattling along the housetops, and fiercely agitating the scanty flame of the lamps that struggled against the darkness. ~ Edward Bulwer Lytton
262:When the lamp has been removed from my sight, and my wife, no stranger now to my habit, has fallen silent, I examine the whole of my day and retrace my actions and words; I hide nothing from myself, pass over nothing. For why should I be afraid of any of my mistakes, when I can say: ‘Beware of doing that again, and this time I pardon you. ~ Seneca
263:Close above him the window was a square of palest aquamarine in the dusky gold of the lamplit wall, and on the dark roof-ridge of the officers' mess opposite was a sleeping pigeon, so clearly and exquisitely outlined against the morning sky that it seemed to Marcus as though he could make out the tip of every fluffed-out feather. ~ Rosemary Sutcliff
264:Whatever you are physically, he said, male of female, strong or weak, ill or healthy- all those things matter less than what your heart contains. If you have the soul of a warrior, you are a warrior. Whatever the color,the shape, the design of the shade that conceals it, the flame inside the lamp remains the same. You are that flame. ~ Cassandra Clare
265:Night came on, the lamps were lighted, the tables near him found occupants, and Paris began to wear that peculiar evening look of hers which seems to say, in the flare of windows and theatre-doors, and the muffled rumble of swift-rolling carriages, that this is no world for you unless you have your pockets lined and your scruples drugged. ~ Henry James
266:Whatever you are physically," he said, "male or female, strong or weak, ill or healthy--all those things matter less than what your heart contains. If you have the soul of a warrior, you are a warrior. Whatever the color, the shape, the design of the shade that conceals it, the flame inside the lamp remains the same. You are that flame. ~ Cassandra Clare
267:Whatever you are physically,' he said, 'Male or female, strong or weak, ill or healthy -- all those things matter less than what your heart contains. If you have the soul of a warrior, you are a warrior. Whatever the color, the shape, the design of the shade that conceals it, the flame inside the lamp remains the same. You are the flame. ~ Cassandra Clare
268:Whatever you are physically,” he said, “male or female, strong or weak, ill or healthy—all those things matter less than what your heart contains. If you have the soul of a warrior, you are a warrior. Whatever the color, the shape, the design of the shade that conceals it, the flame inside the lamp remains the same. You are that flame.” He ~ Cassandra Clare
269:A king is a king, but a bard is the heart and soul of the people; he is their life in song, and the lamp which guides their steps along the paths of destiny. A bard is the essential spirit of the clan; he is the linking ring, the golden cord which unites the manifold ages of the clan, binding all that is past with all that is yet to come. ~ Stephen R Lawhead
270:Wagon Train was on. It seemed to be beaming in from some foreign country. I shut that off, too, and went into another room, a windowless one with a painted door--a dark cavern with a floor-to-ceiling library. I switched on the lamps. The place had an overpowering presence of literature and you couldn't help but lose your passion for dumbness. ~ Bob Dylan
271:What better occupation, really, than to spend the evening at the fireside with a book, with the wind beating on the windows and the lamp burning bright...Haven't you ever happened to come across in a book some vague notion that you've had, some obscure idea that returns from afar and that seems to express completely your most subtle feelings? ~ Gustave Flaubert
272:I stopped reading and stared round the room. There were the new curtains, the new shades on all the lamps, the deep new pile of the Indian carpet beneath my feet, the new loose cover of the chair that I was sitting in, the slightly different appearance of the wallpaper by the electric switch, the gleam of the new paint. I had not noticed any of them. ~ Nevil Shute
273:Across from the lampstand is the table of showbread. It is three feet long and a half-foot wide and made of wood overlaid with ornately tooled gold. On it are twelve cakes of bread representing the twelve tribes of Israel, and they are replaced on the Sabbath. It is a meal for the priests to commune with the ‘bread of life’ of the presence of Yahweh. ~ Brian Godawa
274:God is the Light of the heavens and the earth;
the likeness of His Light is as a niche wherein is a lamp
(the lamp in a glass, the glass as it were a glittering star)
lit from a blessed tree,
an olive that is neither of the East nor of the West
whose oil wellnigh would shine,
even if no life touched it;
Light upon Light; ~ Anonymous
275:It was a dark and stormy night; the rain fell in torrents - except at occasional intervals, when it was checked by a violent gust of wind which swept up the streets (for it is in London that our scene lies), rattling along the housetops, and fiercely agitating the scanty flame of the lamps that struggled against the darkness. ~ Edward Bulwer Lytton 1st Baron Lytton
276:The light that shines through the windows of the eyes and ears—if those windows did not exist, the light would not stop. It would find other windows to shine through.

If you bring a lamp before the sun, do you say, "I see the sun by means of this lamp"? God forbid! If you did not bring the lamp, the sun would still shine. What need is there for a lamp? ~ Rumi
277:Whatever you are physically, male or female, strong or weak, ill or healthy - all those things matter less than what your heart contains. If you have the soul of a warrior, you are a warrior. Whatever the color, the shape, the design of the shade that conceals it, the flame inside the lamp remains the same. YOU are the flame. That's what I believe. ~ Cassandra Clare
278:What strikes me is the fact that in our society, art has become something which is related only to objects and not to individuals, or to life. That art is something which is specialized or which is done by experts who are artists. But couldn't everyone's life become a work of art? Why should the lamp or the house be an art object, but not our life? ~ Michel Foucault
279:should be read in the Golden Future, some snowy evening by the fire after a home dinner à deux. Your predestined husband, mademoiselle, is to extend his god-like figure upon a sofa, with an ash-tray convenient. You are to do the reading, curled up in the big velvet wing-chair, with the lamp at your left elbow and the fender under your pretty feet. ~ Robert W Chambers
280:And the Raven, never flitting, Still is sitting, still is sitting On the pallid bust of Pallas Just above my chamber door; And his eyes have all the seeming Of a demon's that is dreaming, And the lamplight o'er him streaming Throws his shadow on the floor, And my soul from out that shadow, That lies floating on the floor, Shall be lifted - nevermore. ~ Edgar Allan Poe
281:Yes, she would explain to neither of them that everything was slowly changing... That she had put away her smile like one who has finally turned off the lamp and decided to go to bed. Now no living thing was allowed in her inner self, merging into it. The way she related to people was becoming increasingly different to the way she related to herself. ~ Clarice Lispector
282:Good friends, how then are meditation and wisdom alike? They are like the lamp and the light it gives forth. If there is a lamp there is light; if there is no lamp there is no light. The lamp is the substance of light; the light is the function of the lamp. Thus, although they have two names, in substance they are not two. Meditation and wisdom are also like this. ~ Huineng
283:Some things can only be seen in the shadows,” my father said, flashing a mysterious smile probably borrowed from the pages of one of his worn Alexandre Dumas romances. Night watchmen still lingered in the misty streets when we stepped out of the front door. The lamps along the Ramblas sketched an avenue of vapor that faded as the city began to awake. When ~ Carlos Ruiz Zaf n
284:Ann Street was reckoned by many to be the most beautiful terrace in the city. Tucked away between Queensferry Road and Stockbridge, its two elegant facing rows of Georgian homes were separated by a narrow roadway constructed of traditional setts. The front gardens were immaculate, the black metal railings glossy, the lamp posts harking back to a more elegant age. ~ Ian Rankin
285:The Oil In The Lamp Dwindled
The oil in the lamp dwindled;
the wick was a flicker
and
the light too dwindled.
A moth danced into the dying flame;
the half-burnt hope
fell into a niche.
When the flame died
darkness gave a hysterical laugh.
Why trust laughter!
Weeping knows no end.
Who lost
and
who won?
~ Dina Nath Nadim
286:An accordion player who had no fingers on his right hand used little sticks tied to his wrist; the singer was blind; and almost all the others were horribly deformed, due to the nervous form of the disease very common in this area. With light from the lamps and the lanterns reflected in the river, it was like a scene from a horror movie. The place is lovely, ~ Ernesto Che Guevara
287:Kindness is strength. Good-nature is often mistaken for virtue, and good health sometimes passes for genius. Anger blows out the lamp of the mind. In the examination of a great and important question, every one should be serene, slow-pulsed, and calm. Intelligence is not the foundation of arrogance. Insolence is not logic. Epithets are the arguments of malice. ~ Robert G Ingersoll
288:Back in the sitting room, Wylan was lighting the lamps. “Are you hungry?”
“Famished,” said Jesper. “But Da’s asleep. I’m not sure we’re allowed to ring for food.” He cocked his head to one side, peering at Wylan. “Did you have her make you better-looking?”
Wylan pinked. “Maybe you forgot how handsome I am.”
Jesper raised a brow.
“Okay, maybe a little. ~ Leigh Bardugo
289:When the short days of winter came, dusk fell before we had well eaten our dinners. When we met in the street the houses had grown sombre. The space of sky above us was the colour of ever-changing violet and towards it the lamps of the street lifted their feeble lanterns. The cold air stung us and we played till our bodies glowed. Our shouts echoed in the silent street. ~ James Joyce
290:And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor:
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted — nevermore! ~ Edgar Allan Poe
291:Why won’t you leave me alone?” I whispered one night as he hovered behind me while I tried to work at my desk.

Long minutes passed. I didn’t think he would answer. I even had time to hope he might have gone, until I felt his hand on my shoulder.

“Then I’d be alone, too," he said, and he stayed the whole night through, till the lamps burned down to nothing. ~ Leigh Bardugo
292:Zahra, what happens to you when I make my last wish?”
“When your third wish is granted, you will cease to be my master. You may possess the lamp, but you cannot call me. I will return to it and await the next Lampholder.”
Abruptly he stands and walks across the room. When he reaches the wall, he turns and stares down at me. “So to win my revenge, I must lose you. ~ Jessica Khoury
293:The soul of man is the lamp of God,’ says a wise Jewish proverb. Man is a weak and miserable creature when God’s light is not burning in his soul. But when it burns (and it only burns in souls enlightened by religion), man becomes the most powerful creature in the world. And it cannot be otherwise, for what then works in him is not his own strength, but the strength of God. ~ Leo Tolstoy
294:So I often saw my father writing under the lamp, scratching his head to find something to write about, even telling her that the handle had come off the kettle, and about Gareth cutting a lump out of the door with my chisel, with pages about Taliesin, of course.

There is strange to see a man quiet in his own world, and searching it for jewels to give his queen. ~ Richard Llewellyn
295:The Lampoon was definitely quite formative. You know there's a crazy like kind of network of comedy writers from The Lampoon that are, that kind of you know like Seinfeld and The Simpsons and a lot of shows kind of had a lot of kind of Lampoon writers and so that was very formative. I mean, to me I got interested in comedy writing at an early like reading like Dave Barry. ~ Nicholas Stoller
296:On the edge of the prairie, where the sun had gone down, the sky was turquoise blue, like a lake, with gold light throbbing in it. Higher up, in the utter clarity of the western slope, the evening star hung like a lamp suspended by silver chains -- like the lamp engraved up the title-page of old Latin texts, which is always appearing in new heavens and waking new desires in men. ~ Willa Cather
297:Won'T It Be Curious
WON'T it be curious when I am dead;
Some one, unknown to me, here in my stead?
Curious surely for others to see
Trifles I made or marred outlasting me;
All my possessions - bracelets and rings,
Young and unaltered like immortal things
Young and unaltered, always the same
Changeless the lamp though we blow out the flame.
~ Alice Duer Miller
298:This silent cry is of ecstasy for what has been done, and of despair at being forestalled, and being thus forewarned, that neither This Year nor Next Year am I to have the ability and wisdom to light the lamp on my own. Although one branch of childhood is in this fashion lopped for all time, the rest of it still inhabits the body of a child which occupies itself in childish matters. ~ Hal Porter
299:The winter evening settles down With smell of steaks in passageways. Six o'clock. The burnt-out ends of smoky days. And now a gusty shower wraps The grimy scraps Of withered leaves about your feet And newspapers from vacant lots; The showers beat On broken blinds and chimney-pots, And at the corner of the street A lonely cab-horse steams and stamps. And then the lighting of the lamps. ~ T S Eliot
300:Walk some night on a suburban street and pass house after house on both sides of the same street each with the lamplight of the living room, shining golden, and inside the little blue square of the television, each living family riveting its attention on probably one show; nobody talking; silence in the yards; dogs barking at you because you pass on human feet instead of wheels. ~ Geoff Nicholson
301:I beg your pardon for being so rude, but sometimes you forget to put down the curtain at the window where the flowers are. And when the lamps are lighted, it’s like looking at a picture to see the fire, and you all around the table with your mother. Her face is right opposite, and it looks so sweet behind the flowers, I can’t help watching it. I haven’t got any mother, you know. ~ Louisa May Alcott
302:If there are fireflies this summer, they do not come down the rue Vauborel. Now it seems there are only shadows and silence. Silence is the fruit of the occupation; it hangs in branches, seeps from gutters. ... So many windows are dark. It's as if the city has become a library of books in an unknown language, the houses great shelves of illegible volumes, the lamps all extinguished. ~ Anthony Doerr
303:Look," she sighed. "You might be a lovely lad, in fairness you look like a lovely lad, but I can't take the chance. My kids wouldn't even be able to remember what I was wearing to tell the police. And all the recent photographs of me are bad, very jowly. I couldn't have them stuck to the lamp posts around the city. On your way, son." (Woman to Matt, when he tried to give her a lift.) ~ Marian Keyes
304:Just then the street lamps came on, all together, and they made the stars that were beginning to glimmer in the night sky paler still. I felt my eyes getting tired, what with the lights and all the movement I’d been watching in the street. There were little pools of brightness under the lamps, and now and then a streetcar passed, lighting up a girl’s hair, or a smile, or a silver bangle. ~ Anonymous
305:There was a sound of revelry by night, And Belgium's capital had gathered then Her beauty and her chivalry, and bright The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men. A thousand hearts beat happily; and when Music arose with its voluptuous swell, Soft eyes looked love to eyes which spake again, And all went merry as a marriage bell. But hush! hark! a deep sound strikes like a rising knell! ~ Lord Byron
306:He had no friends and for the first time in his life he became aware of loneliness. Sometimes, in his attic room at night, he would look up from a book he was reading and gaze in the dark corners of his room, where the lamplight flickered against the shadows. If he stared long and intently, the darkness gathered into a light, which took the insubstantial shape of what he had been reading. ~ John Williams
307:Love is eternal -- the aspect may change, but not the essence. There is the same difference in a person before and after he is in love as there is in an unlighted lamp and one that is burning. The lamp was there and was a good lamp, but now it is shedding light too, and that is its real function. And love makes one calmer about many things, and that way, one is more fit for one's work. ~ Vincent Van Gogh
308:This work opens the eyes of the world blinded by ignorance. As the sun dispels darkness, so does Bharata by its exposition of religion, duty, action, contemplation, and so forth. As the full moon by shedding soft light helps the buds of the lotus to open, so this Purana by its exposition expands the human intellect. The lamp of history illumines the ‘whole mansion of the womb of Nature.’ —Vyasa ~ R K Narayan
309:A fool came and sat in a seat above one of the great saints. What difference does it make to the saints whether such a person is above or below the lamp? If the lamp wants to be on high, it does not desire that for its own sake. Its purpose is for the benefit of others, so they can enjoy their share of the light. Wherever the lamp may be, whether below or above, it is still the lamp of the Eternal Sun. ~ Rumi
310:Clothes were scattered across the floor in piles, a duffel bag open on the floor as if it had exploded. Isabelle's bright silver-gold whip hung from one bedpost, a lacy white bra from another. Simon averted his eyes. The curtains were drawn, the lamps extinguished. Isabelle flopped down on the edge of the bed and looked at him with bitter amusement. "A blushing vampire. Who would have guessed. ~ Cassandra Clare
311:All morning I lay down sentences, erase them, and try new ones. Soon enough, when things go well, the world around me dwindles: the sky out the window, the furious calm of the big umbrella pine ten feet away, the smell of dust falling onto the hot bulb in the lamp. That's the miracle of writing, the place you try to find--when the room, your body, and even time itself cooperate in a vanishing act. ~ Anthony Doerr
312:Clothes were scattered across the floor in piles, a duffel bag open on the floor as if it had exploded. Isabelle's bright silver-gold whip hung from one bedpost, a lacy white bra from another. Simon averted his eyes. The curtains were drawn, the lamps extinguished.
Isabelle flopped down on the edge of the bed and looked at him with bitter amusement. "A blushing vampire. Who would have guessed. ~ Cassandra Clare
313:On the first of May, with my comrades of the catechism class, I laid lilac, chamomile and rose before the altar of the Virgin, and returned full of pride to show my blessed posy. My mother laughed her irreverent laugh and, looking at my bunch of flowers, which was bringing the may-bug into the sitting-room right under the lamp, she said: Do you suppose it wasn't already blessed before? ~ Sidonie Gabrielle Colette
314:Together they will spend a happy hour seated side by side..., while Ivy's tender hand guides Duffy's as he traces out laboriously, in pencil, over and over until he has them off pat, the magic letters of his name. More than the wedding itself, that little ceremony there under the lamp, all silent save for the soft scratching of graphite on paper, will mark the true beginning of their life together. ~ John Banville
315:My ideal life is a quiet one. I like to read, to sit still in the same chair, with the lampshade at a certain angle, alone, or with Meagan nearby, and now and then, if I'm lucky, I'll come across a lovely phrase or fine sentiment, look up from my book, and feel the harmony of some notion, the justice of it, and know that everything is there. That's life to me, those privately discovered moments. ~ Charles D Ambrosio
316:My ideal life is a quiet one. I like to read, to sit still in the same chair, with the lampshade at a certain angle, alone, or with Meagan nearby, and now and then, if I'm lucky, I'll come across a lovely phrase or fine sentiment, look up from my book, and feel the harmony of some notion, the justice of it, and know that everything is there. That's life to me, those privately discovered moments. ~ Charles D Ambrosio
317:Thich Nhat Hanh has the ability to express some of the most profound teachings of interdependence and emptiness I've ever heard. With the eloquence of a poet, he holds up a sheet of paper and teaches us that the rain cloud and the tree and the logger who cut the tree down are all there in the paper. He's been one of the most significant carriers of the lamp of the dharma to the West that we have had. ~ Jack Kornfield
318:Do you recall where the lamps were?” Camille whispered. In the dark, in someone else’s home, whispering seemed more appropriate. A clunk off to her right and the screech of table legs skittering across the floor made her cringe.
“I don’t remember that being there,” Oscar said.
“I’m glad we don’t break into houses for a living. We’re appalling at it,” Camille said, laughing as the room brightened. ~ Angie Frazier
319:The universe is wired with the electricity of God, & each of us is a lamp. It doesn't matter the size or shape of the lamp; it only matters that the lamp is plugged in. With every prayer, every thought of forgiveness, every meditation, every act of love, we plug in. The more of us who plug in, to more the darkness of the world will be cast from our midst. Today, let's all increase love's wattage! ~ Marianne Williamson
320:I saw the great sparkling orbs of his eyes, the tiny red veins that reached for the dark centers, that warm hand burning my cold hunger as he guided me to a chair. And then all around me I saw faces blazing, faces rising in the smoke of the lamps, in the shimmer of the burning stove, a wonderland of colors on canvases surrounding us beneath the small, sloped roof, a blaze of beauty that pulsed and throbbed. ~ Anne Rice
321:the biggest damage to the Baghdad Zoo had not been done in battle, fierce as it had been. It was the looters. They had killed or kidnapped anything edible and ransacked everything else. Even the lamp poles had been unbolted, tipped over, and their copper wiring wrenched out like multicolored spaghetti. As we drove past, we could see groups of looters still at it, scavenging like colonies of manic ants. ~ Lawrence Anthony
322:We are men born in a land of eternal darkness. We grope where we cannot see clearly. Why mistrust what ancient books say? Why mistrust what our souls say? Our forefathers gave us this lamp, and the flame was lit in brighter days, when men saw further. I agree the lamp-light of such far-off lore, is dim for us; but surely that proves it to be folly, not wisdom, to cast the lamp aside: for then we are blind. ~ John C Wright
323:America is now wholly given over to a d--d mob of scribbling women, and I should have no chance of success while the public taste is occupied with their trash - and should be ashamed of myself if I did succeed. What is the mystery of these innumerable editions of the Lamplighter, and other books neither better nor worse? - worse they could not be, and better they need not be, when they sell by 100,000. ~ Nathaniel Hawthorne
324:Faith's way of walking is to cast all care upon the Lord, and then to anticipate good results from the worst calamities. Like Gideon's men, she does not fret over the broken pitcher, but rejoices that the lamp blazes forth the more. Out of the rough oyster-shell of difficulty she extracts the rare pearl of honor, and from the deep ocean-caves of distress she uplifts the priceless coral of experience. ~ Charles Haddon Spurgeon
325:A while later Catch woke to the sound of the bathroom door opening. Hallie emerged wearing a white bathrobe, which hung suggestively low, revealing the slender line of her neck where it met her perfect collarbone. Her hair was damp and her skin shone ethereally in the golden glow of the lamplight, smooth, flawless, like porcelain polished to perfection.
She smiled and for a moment Catch was left breathless. ~ Sean J Quirk
326:O Fool, try to carry thyself upon thy own shoulders!
O beggar, to come beg at thy own door!

Leave all thy burdens on his hands who can bear all,
and never look behind in regret.

Thy desire at once puts out the light from the lamp it touches with its breath.
It is unholy-take not thy gifts through its unclean hands.
Accept only what is offered by sacred love.

~ Rabindranath Tagore, Fool

327:waking at night;
the lamp is low,
the oil freezing

it has rained enough
the stubble on the field
black

winter rain
falling on the cow-shed;
a cock crows.
the leeks
newly washed white-
how cold it is!

the sea darkens;
voices of wild ducks
are faintly white.
ill on a journey;
my dreams wander
over a withered moor.
~ Matsuo Basho, Collection of Six Haiku

328:She sits at the edge of the leather sofa and looks around the living room, remembers the delivery man from Ethan Interiors who changed the lampshade the other day. “You got a great house, ma’am,” he’d said, with that curious American smile that meant he believed he, too, could have something like it someday. It is one of the things she has come to love about America, the abundance of unreasonable hope. ~ Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie
329:The lamplight was warm and the apartment still and snug. At home in bed, in my private abyss of longing, the scenes I dreamed of always began like this. I could lose myself forever in that singular little face, in the pessimism of her beautiful mouth. When I imagined these phrases cast in her voice, they were almost intolerably sweet; now, sitting right beside her, it was unthinkable that I should voice them myself. ~ Donna Tartt
330:The winter evening settles down
With smell of steaks in passageways.
Six o'clock.
The burnt-out ends of smoky days.
And now a gusty shower wraps
The grimy scraps
Of withered leaves about your feet
And newspapers from vacant lots;
The showers beat
On broken blinds and chimney-pots,
And at the corner of the street
A lonely cab-horse steams and stamps.
And then the lighting of the lamps. ~ T S Eliot
331:I believe that Gaston Cleric narrowly missed being a great poet, and I have sometimes thought that his outbursts of imaginative talk were fatal to his poetic gift. He squandered too much in the heat of personal communication. How often have I seen him draw his dark brows together, fix his eyes upon some object on the wall or a figure in the carpet, and then flash into the lamplight the very image that was in his brain. ~ Willa Cather
332:The night before, Bharati had been sitting at the entrance of her hut studying for the exam with a small kerosene lamp for light. Her mother was asleep on the ground outside. They were so poor they couldn’t afford a lamp with a glass cover over the flame. Bharati dozed off. The lamp fell over. Kerosene spilled. The hut caught fire. Thirteen-year-old Bharati, the daughter of the martyr Noble, was consumed in the blaze. ~ Sujatha Gidla
333:22 a “The eye is the lamp of the body. So, if your eye is healthy, your whole body will be full of light, 23 a but if  b your eye is bad, your whole body will be full of darkness. If then the light in you is darkness, how great is the darkness! 24 c “No one can serve two masters, for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and  d money. [6] ~ Anonymous
334:The Taxi

When I go away from you
The world beats dead
Like a slackened drum.
I call out for you against the jutted stars
And shout into the ridges of the wind.
Streets coming fast,
One after the other,
Wedge you away from me,
And the lamps of the city prick my eyes
So that I can no longer see your face.
Why should I leave you,
To wound myself upon the sharp edges of the night? ~ Amy Lowell
335:I remember reading Dave Barry for the first time and being like oh my God I can't believe you can do this. Watching Mel Brooks and Monty Python and SNL and all that stuff really informed me as a writer and then at high school I started a satire magazine and the college like The Lampoon really introduced me to like you know a lot of very like-minded people who really wanted to like comedy was the center of their lives. ~ Nicholas Stoller
336:Florence Nightingale was never called “the Lady with the Lamp,” but “the Lady with the Hammer,” an image deftly readjusted by the war reporter of the Times since it was far too coarse for the folks back home. Far from gliding about the hospital with her lamp aloft, Nightingale earned her nickname through a ferocious attack on a locked storeroom when a military commander refused to give her the medical supplies she needed. ~ Rosalind Miles
337:The Taxi
When I go away from you
The world beats dead
Like a slackened drum.
I call out for you against the jutted stars
And shout into the ridges of the wind.
Streets coming fast,
One after the other,
Wedge you away from me,
ANd the lamps of the city prick my eyes
So that I can no longer see your face.
Why should I leave you,
To wound myself upon the sharp edges of the night?
~ Amy Lowell
338:Albert Einstein To Archibald Macleish
I should have been a plumber fixing drains.
And mending pure white bathtubs for the great Diogenes
(who scorned all lies, all liars, and all tyrannies),
And then, perhaps, he would bestow on me -- majesty!
(O modesty aside, forgive my fallen pride, O hidden
majesty,
The lamp, the lantern, the lucid light he sought for
All too often -- sick humanity!)
~ Delmore Schwartz
339:Is it possible for the rose to say, "I will give my fragrance to the good people who smell me, but I will withhold it from the bad?" Or is it possible for the lamp to say, "I will give my light to the good people in this room, but I will withhold it from the evil people"? Or can a tree say, "I'll give my shade to the good people who rest under me, but I will withhold it from the bad"? These are images of what love is about. ~ Anthony de Mello
340:Hembry," he said, not lifting his gaze from Juliana's. "We will retire to the music room. Lady Juliana wishes to play with me."
She laughed at his outrageous statement as the butler disappeared to light the lamps in the music room. "Play for you, you rouge. Music. Nothing else."
"Hmmm...," he enigmatically replied.
Sinclair allowed her to put her own interpretation on his intentions as they entered the house. ~ Alexandra Hawkins
341:Rain On Autumn Night
Cold, cold this third night of autumn
Rain makes me sleepy
Alone, this old man is contented and idle
It's late when I extinguish the lamp and lie down
To sleep, listening to the beautiful sound of rain
Incense ashes still glowing in the burner
My only heat in this lodging
At daybreak, I will stay under the quilt to stay warm
And the steps will be covered by frosty red leaves
~ Bai Juyi
342:I hadn’t known what Humans were like before I met you. Of course I can’t give you up to the Witch; not now that I know you. But we must be off at once. I’ll see you back to the lamppost. I suppose you can find your own way from there back to Spare Oom and War Drobe?”
“I’m sure I can,” said Lucy.
“We must go as quietly as we can,” said Mr. Tumnus. “The whole wood is full of her spies. Even some of the trees are on her side. ~ C S Lewis
343:Before turning down the lamp, Lara paused to take one last glance at her husband. He was like some magnificent slumbering beast, all his alertness and vitality temporarily banked, his claws sheathed. But on the morrow he would be back in his usual form, mocking, argumentative, charming... and he would resume his efforts to seduce her.
What unnerved her was the realization that in some small way she was actually looking forward to it. ~ Lisa Kleypas
344:How happily, said Austerlitz, have I sat over a book in the deepening twilight until I could no longer make out the words and my mind began to wander, and how secure have I felt seated at the desk in my house in the dark night, just watching the tip of my pencil in the lamplight following its shadow, as if of its own accord and with perfect fidelity, while that shadow moved regularly from left to right, line by line, over the ruled paper. ~ W G Sebald
345:Out of the corner of one eye, I could see my mother. Out of the corner of the other eye, I could see her shadow on the wall, cast there by the lamplight. It was a big and solid shadow, and it looked so much like my mother that I became frightened. For I could not be sure whether for the rest of my life I would be able to tell when it was really my mother and when it was really her shadow standing between me and the rest of the world. ~ Jamaica Kincaid
346:She simply does what her daughter tells her to, and finds a surprising relief in it. Maybe, she thinks, one could begin dying into this: the ministrations of a grown daughter, the comforts of a room. Here, then, is age. Here are the little consolations, the lamp and the book. Here is the world, increasingly managed by people who are not you; who will do either well or badly; who do not look at you when they pass you in the street. ~ Michael Cunningham
347:Often, after extinguishing the oil lamp in our house on stilts, we would lie on our beds and smoke in the dark. Book titles poured from our lips, the mysterious and exotic names evoking unknown worlds. It was like Tibetan incense, where you need only say the name, Zang Xiang, to smell the subtle, refined fragrance and to see the joss sticks sweating beads of scented moisture which, in the lamplight, resemble drops of liquid gold. ~ Dai Sijie
348:So, cutting the lashing of the waterproof match keg, after many failures Starbuck contrived to ignite the lamp in the lantern; then stretching it on a waif pole, handed it to Queequeg as the standard-bearer of this forlorn hope. There, then, he sat, holding up that imbecile candle in the heart of that almighty forlornness. There, then, he sat, the sign and symbol of a man without faith, hopelessly holding up hope in the midst of despair. ~ Herman Melville
349:Black is closing in around my eyes. I realize with a great, tired sadness that I am losing the world. The walls, the molding on the door frame, the yellow of the lamp, his back at the sink… are all achingly beautiful. I reach out and feel myself groping in the air, feel myself falling great distances, feel nothing at all. Suddenly, with a red rush I can breathe and I can see. I get up from the floor before he turns around and says, “You look flushed. ~ Eula Biss
350:The Lower Room
How soft the lamplight falls
On pictures, books,
And pleasant coloured walls
And curtains drawn!
How happily one looks
On glowing flame and ember;
Ah, why should one remember
Dew and dawn!
Here age and wisdom sit
Calm and discreet,
Life and the fruit of it
Are here in truth,
Whose gathering once was sweet-Wisdom and age! Well met!
Yet neither can forget
Folly and youth!
~ Edith Nesbit
351:America is now wholly given over to a damned mob of scribbling women, and I should have no chance of success while the public taste is occupied with their trash--and should be ashamed of myself if I did succeed. What is the mystery of these innumberable editions of The Lamplighter (by Maria Susanna Cummins), and other books neither better nor worse? Worse they could not be, and better they need not be, when they sell by the hundred thousand. ~ Nathaniel Hawthorne
352:Marthe said dryly, ‘Philippa wishes only to say thank you, and so also do I. They say in Italy, don’t they, that the boat will sink that carries neither monk, nor student, nor whore.… How good that we have Mr Blyth.'

‘How good that we have Mlle Marthe,’ Lymond replied. His clothes, freshly changed, were impeccable and his brushed yellow hair, free of sand, was lit guinea-gold by the gleam of the lamps. ‘Of her fellow men so charming a student. ~ Dorothy Dunnett
353:I have got my leave. Bid me farewell, my brothers!
I bow to you all and take my departure.

Here I give back the keys of my door
-and I give up all claims to my house.
I only ask for last kind words from you.

We were neighbors for long,
but I received more than I could give.
Now the day has dawned
and the lamp that lit my dark corner is out.
A summons has come and I am ready for my journey.

~ Rabindranath Tagore, Farewell

354:The delicate muses lose their head if their attention is once diverted. Perhaps if you were successful abroad in talking and dealing with men, you would not come back to your bookshelf and your task. When the spirit chooses you for its scribe to publish some commandment, it makes you odious to men and men odious to you, and you shall accept that loathsomeness with joy. The moth must fly to the lamp, and you must solve those questions though you die. ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson
355:The Screech-Owl
Hearing the strange night-piercing sound
Of woe that strove to sing,
I followed where it hid, and found
A small soft-throated thing,
A feathered handful of gray grief,
Perched by the year's last leaf.
And heeding not that in the sky
The lamps of peace were lit,
It sent abroad that sobbing cry,
And sad hearts echoed it.
O hush, poor grief, so gray, so wild,
God still is with His child!
~ Ethelwyn Wetherald
356:We drank our tea. The lamplight was warm and the apartment still and snug. At home in bed, in my private abyss of longing, the scenes i dreamed of always began like this: drowsy drunken hour, the two of us alone, scenarios in which invariably she would brush against me as if by chance, or lean coveniently close, cheek touching mine, to point out a passage in a book, opportunities that i would seize, gently but manfully, as exordium to more violent pleasures. ~ Donna Tartt
357:You will never be a hero. You were never meant to be a hero."
Hero. that one word made Aru lift her chin. It made her think of Mini and Boo, her mom, and all the incredible things she herself had done in just nine days. Breaking the lamp hadn't been heroic... but everything else? Fighting for people she cared about and doing everything it took to fix her mistake? That was heroism.
Vajra became a spear in her hand.
"I already am. And it's heroine. ~ Roshani Chokshi
358:Finally, then, I conclude with an iconic image of that foundational reconciliation from the later fourth century. It is a bronze hanging lamp from the villa of the aristocratic Valerii on the Celian Hill in Rome, now preserved in the National Archaeological Museum in Florence. The lamp is shaped like a boat. Peter is seated in the stern at the tiller. Paul is standing in the prow looking forward. Peter steers. Paul guides. And the boat sails full before the wind. ~ Marcus J Borg
359:For example, if you are shocked when you turn on a lamp because of a wiring defect in the switch, the lamp-shock association (a CS-US association) will cause you to avoid touching the lamp. Then, if after getting the lamp repaired you cautiously turn it on and find you are not shocked, you can proceed with abandon in using it. You’ve formed a new association—a “lamp–no shock” association (CS–no US association)—that overrides or suppresses the original association.61 ~ Joseph E LeDoux
360:He went to his own dark house and lighted the lamps and set fire in the stove. The clock wound by Elizabeth still ticked, storing in its spring the pressure of her hand, and the wool socks she had hung to dry over the stove screen were still damp. These were vital parts of Elizabeth that were not dead yet. Joseph pondered slowly over it. Life cannot be cut off quickly. One cannot be dead until the things he changed are dead. His effect is the only evidence of his life. ~ John Steinbeck
361:In their brief absence a few of the more adventurous or desperate wives would seize the opportunity to hire a sitter and meet another of these boy-men, permanent whiskey-dicks, most of them, out at the Lamplighter Motor Court for a little taste of the road not taken, only to discover that it was pretty much the same shabby, two-lane blacktop they’d been traveling all along, just an unfamiliar stretch of it that nonetheless led to pretty much the same destination anyhow. ~ Richard Russo
362:Our first duty to liberty is to keep our own. But it is also our duty - as Europeans - to keep alive in the Eastern as well as the Western half of our continent those ideas of human dignity which Europe gave to the world. Let us therefore resolve to keep the lamps of freedom burning bright so that all who look to the West from the shadows of the East need not doubt that we remain true to those human and spiritual values that lie at the heart of European civilization. ~ Margaret Thatcher
363:The rosy hearth, the lamplight's narrow beam,
The meditation that is rather dream,
With looks that lose themselves in cherished looks;
The hour of steaming tea and banished books;
The sweetness of the evening at an end,
The dear fatigue, and right to rest attained,
And worshipped expectation of the night,—
Oh, all these things, in unrelenting flight,
My dream pursues through all the vain delays,
Impatient of the weeks, mad at the days! ~ Paul Verlaine
364:But, along with the street lamp, everything breathes deceit. It lies all the time, this Nevsky Prospect, but most of all at the time when night heaves its dense mass upon it and sets off the white and pale yellow walls of the houses, when the whole city turns into a rumbling and brilliance, myriads of carriages tumble from the bridges, postillions shout and bounce on their horses, and the devil himself lights the lamps only so as to show everything not as it really looks. ~ Nikolai Gogol
365:Gregory struck out with his stick at the lamp-post, and then at the tree. "About this and this," he cried; "about order and anarchy. There is your precious order, that lean, iron lamp, ugly and barren; and there is anarchy, rich, living, reproducing itself—there is anarchy, splendid in green and gold." "All the same," replied Syme patiently, "just at present you only see the tree by the light of the lamp. I wonder when you would ever see the lamp by the light of the tree. ~ G K Chesterton
366:She walks away, and I am too stunned to follow her. At the end of the hallways she turns and says, "Have a piece of cake for me, all right? The chocolate. It's delicious." She smiles a strange, twisted smile, and adds," I love you, you know." And then she's gone. I stand alone in the blue light coming from the lamp above me, and I understand: She has been to the compound before. She remembered this hallways. She knows about the initiation process. My mother was a dauntless. ~ Veronica Roth
367:He stared at me for a couple of seconds, then picked up his cutlery, hunched over his plate. Outside, behind him, the wind carried the rain, the lamp posts quivered. I found myself thinking of certain people I knew--people not that far away--how surprised they'd be (wouldn't they?) to see me sitting there with that bright, bland expression on my face, trying to fence with this nonsense. Or had I been very naive? Was this what life was like, really, and everyone knew it but me? ~ Gwendoline Riley
368:It was a September evening, and not yet seven o'clock, but the day had been a dreary one, and a dense drizzly fog lay low upon the great city. Mud-colored clouds drooped sadly over the muddy streets. Down the Strand the lamps were but misty splotches of diffused light which threw a feeble circular glimmer upon the slimy pavement. The yellow glare from the shop-windows streamed out into the steamy, vaporous air, and threw a murky, shifting radiance across the crowded thoroughfare. ~ Arthur Conan Doyle
369:Silence
So silent is the world to-night
The lamp gives silence out like light,
The latticed windows open wide
Show silence, like the night, outside:
The nightingale's faint song draws near
Like musical silence to mine ear.
The empty house calls not to me,
'Here, but for fate, were thou and she--'
Its gibe for once is checked. To-night
Silence is queen in grief's despite,
And even the longing of my soul
Is silent 'neath this hour's control.
~ Edith Nesbit
370:You no sooner attain the great void Than body and mind are lost together. Heaven and Hell -- a straw. The Buddha-realm, Pandemonium -- shambles. Listen: a nightingale strains her voice, serenading the snow. Look: a tortoise wearing a sword climbs the lampstand. Should you desire the great tranquility, Prepare to sweat white beads. [1506.jpg] -- from Zen Poetry: Let the Spring Breeze Enter, Translated by Lucien Stryk / Translated by Takashi Ikemoto

~ Hakuin, You no sooner attain the great void

371:A man sat alone under the lamplight, hunched over the desk, listening to the rain on the nearby shuttered window while he worked. He looked up from his project when he heard a noise over the water dripping off the roof. It was the sound of footsteps in the private courtyard outside, and then the echo of a door slamming shut.
The man rose silently and moved to the window, opened the shutters a few inches, and looked down, his right hand hovering over the grip of the Glock pistol in his waistband ~ Mark Greaney
372:But he was careful. He didn’t make a simple remark without rehearsing it beforehand. And he continually removed the expression from his face lest it be the wrong one, and give him away. He also avoided any strong light, such as the lamp on the kitchen table. Sometimes a weakness overcame him, his legs were unstrung, and he had to find some place to sit down, but this was easy enough to disguise. It was his voice that gave him the most trouble. It sounded false to him and not like his voice at all. ~ William Maxwell
373:In Hyde Park
The white mist walks between the trees
In silver gown;
Her mystic floating draperies
The branches drown;
And lurking there with eager leer
And wonder new,
The lamps inquisitively peer
Their fingers through.
The world sighs wearily, with pain
Drawing tired breath;
The stars are like a silver rain;
And down beneath
On Night's smooth garment running o'er
In sullen flood,
The city, like a festering sore,
Oozes warm blood.
~ Arthur Henry Adams
374:I’ve been praying,” he said. His voice was soft, a loving voice. “I’ve been praying about your decision to go to college.” His eyes opened. His pupils had dilated in the lamplight, absorbing the hazel of the iris. I’d never seen eyes so given over to blackness; they seemed unearthly, tokens of spiritual power. “The Lord has called me to testify,” he said. “He is displeased. You have cast aside His blessings to whore after man’s knowledge. His wrath is stirred against you. It will not be long in coming. ~ Tara Westover
375:The song I came to sing remains unsung to this day. I have spent my days in stringing and in unstringing my instrument. The time has not come true, the words have not been rightly set; only there is the agony of wishing in my heart….. I have not seen his face, nor have I listened to his voice; only I have heard his gentle footsteps from the road before my house….. But the lamp has not been lit and I cannot ask him into my house; I live in the hope of meeting with him; but this meeting is not yet. ~ Rabindranath Tagore
376:He went often to her little cottage outside Dublin; often they spent their evenings alone. Little by little, as their thoughts entangled, they spoke of subjects less remote. Her companionship was like a warm soil about an exotic. Many times she allowed the dark to fall upon them, refraining from lighting the lamp. The dark discreet room, their isolation, the music that still vibrated in their ears united them. This union exalted him, wore away the rough edges of his character, emotionalised his mental life. ~ James Joyce
377:Leave my loneliness unbroken!—quit the bust above my door! Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!" Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore." And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door; And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming, And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor; And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor Shall be lifted—nevermore! ~ Edgar Allan Poe
378:He would not beg Zoya to stay. It was not in his nature to plead with anyone, and that was not the pact they shared. They did not look to each other for comfort. They kept each other marching. They kept each other strong. So he would not find another excuse to get her talking again. He would not tell her he was afraid to be left alone with the thing he might become, and he would not ask her to leave the lamp burning, a child's bit of magic to ward off the dark.
But he was relieved when she did it anyway. ~ Leigh Bardugo
379:Genie: Okay, fine. So what are your three wishes?

Marco: Only three? In the stories I heard, the genies granted unlimited wishes.

Genie: Ah, not again. Well, let me clarify this for you. I only provide the “Limited to three wishes” plan, also called the “Classic package”. There were certain gold and platinum plans offered in the past, which granted infinite wishes and where the genie practically stayed with the lamp-finder all their life. But those plans were discontinued around 2,300 years back. ~ Varun Sayal
380:Just as the lamp burns bright when wick and oil are clean, so is it with our minds. All things can corrupt when minds are prone to evil. A soft word of praise benignly intended can wreak havoc on one whose ears itch to hear it. So often, we are pulled and strung along by our feelings, led to this mischief and that because we crave a fleeting emotion. Our simmering anger needs but a nudge to flame up and scald everyone around us. Yet when our thoughts are pure, we become a light by which others learn to read. — ~ Jeff Wheeler
381:I have come to light the lamp of Love in your hearts, to see that it shines day by day with added luster. I have not come on behalf of any exclusive religion. I have not come on a mission of publicity for a sect or creed or cause, nor have I come to collect followers for a doctrine. I have no plan to attract disciples or devotees into my fold or any fold. I have come to tell you of this unitary faith, this spiritual principle, this path of Love, this virtue of Love, this duty of Love, this obligation of Love. ~ Sathya Sai Baba
382:And here Dante describes an evidently spherical world... "The lamp of the world [the sun] rises to mortals through different passages; but through that which joins four circles with three crosses [the position of the rising sun at the vernal equinox] it issues with a better course and conjoined with better stars, and tempers and stamps the wax of the world more after its own fashion. Although such an outlet had made morning there and evening here, and all the hemisphere there was bright, and the other dark..." ~ Dante Alighieri
383:You went about with your soul full of suspicion and hatred; you understood that you were environed by hostile powers that were trying to get your money, and who used all the virtues to bait their traps with. The storekeepers plastered up their windows with all sorts of lies to entice you; the very fences by the wayside, the lamp-posts and telegraph-poles, were pasted over with lies. The great corporation which employed you lied to you, and lied to the whole country—from top to bottom it was nothing but one gigantic lie. ~ Anonymous
384:Henceforward the Christian Churches having a form of godliness, but denying the power thereof, came into the hands of the Encratites: and the Heathens, who in the fourth century came over in great numbers to the Christians, embraced more readily this sort of Christianity, as having a greater affinity with their old superstitions, than that of the sincere Christians; who by the lamps of the seven Churches of Asia, and not by the lamps of the Monasteries, had illuminated the Church Catholic during the three first centuries. ~ Isaac Newton
385:Was it worth while to lay—
with infinite exertion—
a roof I can't live under?
—All those blueprints,
closings of gaps,
measurings, calculations?
A life I didn't choose
chose me: even
my tools are the wrong ones
for what I have to do.
I'm naked, ignorant,
a naked man fleeing
across the roofs
who could with a shade of difference
be sitting in the lamplight
against the cream wallpaper
reading—not with indifference—
about a naked man
fleeing across the roofs. ~ Adrienne Rich
386:As she sat thus, the lamplight full on her clear brow, he said to himself with a secret dismay that he would always know the thoughts behind it, that never, in all the years to come, would she surprise him by an unexpected mood, by a new idea, a weakness, a cruelty or an emotion. She had spent her poetry and romance on their short courting: the function was exhausted because the need was past. Now she was simply ripening into a copy of her mother, and mysteriously, by the very process, trying to turn him into a Mr. Welland. ~ Edith Wharton
387:The old man slowly unwrapped the shining blade and let the lamplight slip along it for a moment. Then he wrapped it up again. 'You go now. I want to go to bed. He blew out the lamp almost before Jody had closed the door.

As he went back towards the house, Jody knew one thing more sharply than he had ever known anything. He must never tell anyone about the rapier. It would be a dreadful thing to tell anyone about it, for it would destroy some fragile structure of truth. It was truth that might be shattered by division. ~ John Steinbeck
388:Jem seemed to look through her then, as if he were seeing something beyond her, beyond the corridor, beyond the Institute itself. "Whatever you are physically," he said, "male or female, strong or weak, ill or healthy--all those things matter less than what your heart contains. If you have the soul of a warrior, you are a warrior. All those other things, they are the glass that contains the lamp, but you are the light inside." He smiled them, seeming to have come back to himself, slightly embarrassed. "That's what I believe. ~ Cassandra Clare
389:About time you woke up, lazy." Cinder glanced over her shoulder to see Thorne in the doorway. Cress and Jacin filled in behind him. "How's the hand?"
"Almost fully functional."
"Of course it's almost fully functional," said Iko. "Cress and I are geniuses." She flashed Cress a thumbs-up.
"I helped," said Thorne.
"He held the lamp," Iko clarified.
"Jacin did nothing," said Thorne, pointing.
"Jacin checked your pulse and breathing and made sure you weren't dead," said Iko.
Thorne snorted. "I could have done that. ~ Marissa Meyer
390:He keeps some goats, and a garden patch. In autumn he goes wandering over the island, alone, in the forests, on the mountainsides, through the valleys of the rivers. I lived there once with him, when I was younger than you are now. I didn't stay long, I hadn't the sense to stay. I went off seeking evil, and sure enough I found it... But you come escaping evil; seeking freedom; seeking silence for a while, until you find your own way. There you will find kindness and silence, Tenar. There the lamp will burn out of the wind awhile. ~ Ursula K Le Guin
391:I examined it cautiously. On the opposite side of the chain from the wolf, there now hung a brilliant heart-shaped crystal. It was cut in a million facets, so that even in the subdued light shining from the lamp, it sparkled. I inhaled in a low gasp..."
"But I thought it was a good representation,' he continued. 'It's hard and cold.' He laughed. 'And it throws rainbows in the sunlight.'
'You forgot the most important similarity,' I murmured. 'It's beautiful.'
'My heart is just as silent,' he mused. 'And it, too, is yours. ~ Stephenie Meyer
392:To get light from an oil lamp, filling it first with oil is entirely reasonable. To get a car to provide you with transportation, filling the tank with gas is completely logical. In the same way, divine logic affirms that obtaining righteousness from a man or woman happens only when that person is filled with God. Oil in the lamp, gas in the car … and Christ in the Christian. It takes God to be a man, and that is why it takes Christ to be a Christian, because Christ puts God back into a man, the only way we can again become functional. ~ W Ian Thomas
393:The Name alone is the Truth, O Ravidas, It was true in the beginning and shall remain true in the end. It destroyeth all sins and sufferings, and is, indeed, the mine of all true Bliss. Steeped in meditation with one-pointed attention, practice devotion to God, O Ravidas. Let the automatic repetition be continued within, reverberating Sat Naam. When surat merges into the Shabda, and becomes one with It, then one obtains the Supreme Bliss. The lamp burns inside, O Ravidas, and Divine Bliss arises within.

~ Ravidas, The Name alone is the Truth

394:As I search the archives of my memory I seem to discern six types or methods [of judicial writing] which divide themselves from one another with measurable distinctness. There is the type magisterial or imperative; the type laconic or sententious; the type conversational or homely; the type refined or artificial, smelling of the lamp, verging at times upon preciosity or euphuism; the demonstrative or persuasive; and finally the type tonsorial or agglutinative, so called from the shears and the pastepot which are its implements and emblem. ~ Benjamin Cardozo
395:And indeed, what is better than to sit by one's fireside in the evening with a book, while the wind beats against the window and the lamp is burning?" "What, indeed?" she said, fixing her large black eyes wide open upon him. "One thinks of nothing," he continued; "the hours slip by. Motionless we traverse countries we fancy we see, and your thought, blending with the fiction, playing with the details, follows the outline of the adventures. It mingles with the characters, and it seems as if it were yourself palpitating beneath their costumes. ~ Gustave Flaubert
396:...she could not think of what had happened to her that day, or of what might happen that night. Instead, she watched the lamplighters move along the avenues even as their celestial counterparts set the stars alight in the sky. The rain had washed the city clean, and the air was a confection of clematis and violets and peony. Music and light spilled out of so many grand houses that the two seemed at once ubiquitous and united, as if to play a note was to send forth a ray of illumination, and a quartet was enough to set the grandest halls aglitter. ~ Galen Beckett
397:For example, John Law's Mississippi Company venture printed shares, and the money had gone up in smoke when it had been inscribed objects. The inscription made it magic and changed its meaning. That's how objects become charmed in The Arabian Nights, and they are often originally ordinary objects. The carpet is an ordinary, paltry object. The lamp is a rusty old lamp, and the bottles jinns are imprisoned within are old bottles. They are changed by the magic and the jinn's presence, and the jinn's presence is often embodied in the seal or inscription. ~ Marina Warner
398:The two women sat by the fire, tilting their glasses and drinking in small peaceful sips. The lamplight shone upon the tidy room and the polished table, lighting topaz in the dandelion wine, spilling pools of crimson through the flanks of the bottle of plum gin. It shone on the contented drinkers, and threw their large, close-at-hand shadows upon the wall. When Mrs Leak smoothed her apron the shadow solemnified the gesture as though she were moulding an universe. Laura's nose and chin were defined as sharply as the peaks peaks on a holly leaf. ~ Sylvia Townsend Warner
399:I’ve come to think that, much as neglect in infancy scars the eventual adult, so our first experiences of pleasurable solitude teach us how to be content by ourselves and shape the conditions in which we seek it. For me it was being alone up in that bedroom, reading or lazing about, one ear forever tuned to the orchestra of family life. As I slipped beneath the sheets, that lost din echoed in all its comforting familiarity. By the time I turned off the lamp, it seemed incomprehensible that anything of consequence had ever existed beyond this tiny pinnacle. ~ Kate Bolick
400:She especially liked my bedside lamp, which had a five-sided porcelain shade. Unlit, the shade seemed like bumpy ivory. Lit, each panel came to life with the image of a bird: a blue jay, a cardinal, wrens, an oriole, and a dove. Kathleen turned it off and on again, several times. "How does it do that?"

"The panels are called lithophanes." I knew because I'd asked my father about the lamp, years ago. "The porcelain is carved and painted. You can see it if you look inside the shade."

"No," she said. "It's magic. I don't want to know how it's done. ~ Susan Hubbard
401:She stepped into the lamplit room.
Arin looked up from where he sat. His fingers tightened around the glass in his hand. He stared.
She flushed, realizing that she’d forgotten to throw a robe over her thin nightdress.
Or had she forgotten? Had she not decided in some way too quick for thought that this was exactly what she’d wanted? She glanced down at the shift’s hem, which hit just below the knees. The cloth was as sheer as melted butter. Her flush deepened. She saw the expression on Arin’s face.
He glanced away. “Gods,” he said, and drank. ~ Marie Rutkoski
402:But you do believe, don’t you," Rose implored him, "you think it’s true?"
"Of course it’s true," the Boy said. "What else could there be?" he went scornfully on. "Why," he said, "it’s the only thing that fits. These atheists, they don’t know nothing. Of course there’s Hell. Flames and damnation," he said with his eyes on the dark shifting water and the lightning and the lamps going out above the black struts of the Palace Pier, "torments."
"And Heaven too," Rose said with anxiety, while the rain fell interminably on.
"Oh, maybe," the Boy said, "maybe. ~ Graham Greene
403:By the time I had gathered my wits sufficiently to press the point the lamps had guttered out and Brisbane was sleeping heavily fatigued by his effortshighly successful efforts I must confessto divert me from the investigation. I lay awake physically satisfied but deeply annoyed. Even after nine months of marriage I was still not entirely comfortable with my responses to his physical overtures. The merest touch from him and all reasonable though seemed to fly out of my head. It was most disconcerting and more so because he apparently knew it I thought irritable. ~ Deanna Raybourn
404:Study is the lamp to dispel the darkness of benightedness. It is the best of possessions—thieves cannot rob you of it. It is a weapon to defeat your enemy—your blindness to all things. It is your best friend who instructs you in the means; It is a relative who will not desert you, though you be poor. It is a medicine against sorrow that does you no harm. It is the best army, which defeats great legions of misdeeds. It is also the best of treasures, of fame, and of glory. You could have no better gift when meeting the most high. It pleases the scholars in any gathering. ~ Anonymous
405:On his way though the lobby minutes later, Artemis was highly amused to overhear several audience members gushing over the unorthodox direction of the opera's final scene. The exploding lamp, mused one buff, was doubtless a metaphor for Norma's own falling star. But no, argued a second. The lamp was obviously a modernistic interpretation of the burning stake which Norma was about to face.

Or perhaps, thought Artemis as he pushed through the crowd to find a light Sicilian mist falling on his forehead, the exploding lamp was simply an exploding lamp. ~ Eoin Colfer
406:Samuel glanced at him. “That’s right,” he said. “Set your teeth in it. How we do defend a wrongness! Shall I tell you what you do, so you will not think you invented it? When you go to bed and blow out the lamp—then she stands in the doorway with a little light behind her, and you can see her nightgown stir. And she comes sweetly to your bed, and you, hardly breathing, turn back the covers to receive her and move your head over on the pillow to make room for her head beside yours. You can smell the sweetness of her skin, and it smells like no other skin in the world— ~ John Steinbeck
407:What old illusion of hope is not here forever repeated! Says the soul of the toiler
to itself, "I shall soon be free. I shall be in the ways and the hosts of the merry. The
streets, the lamp, the lighted chamber set for dining are for me. The theatres, the halls,
the parties, the ways of rest and the paths of song—these are mine in the night." Though
all humanity be still enclosed in the shops, the thrill runs abroad. It is in the air. The
dullest feel something which they may not always express or describe. It is the lifting of
the burden of toil. ~ Theodore Dreiser
408:It was the forty-fathom slumber that clears the soul and eye and heart, and sends you to breakfast ravening. They emptied a big tin dish of juicy fragments of fish- the blood-ends the cook had collected overnight. They cleaned up the plates and pans of the elder mess, who were out fishing, sliced pork for the midday meal, swabbed down the foc'sle, filled the lamps, drew coal and water for the cook, an investigated the fore-hold, where the boat's stores were stacked. It was another perfect day - soft, mild and clear; and Harvey breathed to the very bottom of his lungs. ~ Rudyard Kipling
409:PLAYED day and night with my comrades, and now I am greatly afraid.
So high is my Lord's palace, my heart trembles to mount its stairs: yet I must not be shy, if I would enjoy His love.
My heart must cleave to my Lover; I must withdraw my veil, and meet Him with all my body:
Mine eyes must perform the ceremony of the lamps of love.
Kabr says: "Listen to me, friend: he understands who loves. If you feel not love's longing for your Beloved One, it is vain to adorn your body, vain to put unguent on your eyelids."
Translated by Rabindranath Tagore
~ Kabir, Poem 5

410:In Collegium it had been the fashion, while he had been resident there, to paint death as a grey-skinned, balding Beetle man in plain robes, perhaps with a doctor's bag but more often an artificer's toolstrip and apron, like the man who came in, at the close of the day, to put out the lamps and still the workings of the machines.

Among his own people, death was a swift insect, gleaming black, its wings a blur - too fast to be outrun and too agile to be avoided, the unplumbed void in which he swam was but the depth of a single facet of its darkly jewelled eyes. ~ Adrian Tchaikovsky
411:Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken! Leave my loneliness unbroken! — quit the bust above my door! Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!” Quoth the raven, “Nevermore.” And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door; And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon that is dreaming, And the lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor; And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor Shall be lifted — nevermore! ~ Edgar Allan Poe
412:You are as the yellow leaf.
The messengers of death are at hand.
You are to travel far away.
What will you take with you?

You are the lamp
To lighten the way.
Then hurry, hurry.

When your light shines
Without impurity or desire
You will come into the boundless country.

Your life is falling away.
Death is at hand.
Where will you rest on the way?
What have you taken with you?

You are the lamp
To lighten the way.
Then hurry, hurry.

When your light shines purely
You will not be born
And you will not die. ~ Gautama Buddha
413:You understand why you must go through with this marriage.”
“You say you couldn’t live with yourself if anything happened to Caspida. Yet you ask me to live with myself, knowing I sentenced you to this!” He holds up the lamp. “What’s the difference?”
I look away angrily. “The difference is that this is my choice, Aladdin.”
“Well, it’s a stupid choice!”
I stand up. “Promise me you’ll go through with it.”
He shuts his eyes.
“Promise me! Please!”
He opens his eyes then, and they are filled with pain. But he nods.
“I have to hear you say it.”
“I promise. ~ Jessica Khoury
414:The song I came to sing
remains unsung to this day.
I have spent my days in stringing
and in unstringing my instrument.

The time has not come true,
the words have not been rightly set;
only there is the agony
of wishing in my heart..

I have not seen his face,
nor have I listened to his voice;
only I have heard his gentle footsteps
from the road before my house..

But the lamp has not been lit
and I cannot ask him into my house;
I live in the hope of meeting with him;
but this meeting is not yet.

~ Rabindranath Tagore, Waiting

415:Prayer: Father God, I can’t thank You enough for all that You have given me. I have so much to be thankful for. My barns are overflowing, and grain is spilling out over the top. Thank You. Thank You. Amen.   Action: Take a risk and say “Thank You” in God’s presence.   Today’s Wisdom: For three things I thank God every day of my life: thanks that he has vouchsafed me knowledge of his works; deep thanks that he has set in my darkness the lamp of faith; deep, deepest thanks that I have another life to look forward to—a life joyous with light and flowers and heavenly song. —HELEN KELLER ~ Emilie Barnes
416:823. Should you think of God only at the time of meditation and remain forgetful of Him at all other times? Have you not noticed how during Durga Puja a lamp is kept constantly burning near the image? It should never be allowed to go out. If ever it is extinguished, the house-holder meets with some mishap. Similarly, after installing the Deity on the lotus of your heart, you must keep the lamp of remembering Him ever burning. While engaged in the affairs of the world, you should constantly turn your gaze inwards and see whether the lamp is burning or not. ~ Sri Ramakrishna, Sayings of Sri Ramakrishna,
417:You were the vessel of evil. The evil is poured out. It is done. It is buried in its own tomb. You were never made for cruelty and darkness; you were made to hold light, as a lamp burning holds and gives its light. I found the lamp unlit; I won't leave it on some desert island like a thing found and cast away. I'll take you to Havnor and say to the princes of Earthsea, 'Look! In the place of darkness I found the light, her spirit. By her an old evil was brought to nothing. By her I was brought out of the grave. By her the broken was made whole, and where there was hatred there will be peace. ~ Ursula K Le Guin
418:Under the glass porte-cochère of a theatre Amory stood, watching the first great drops of rain splatter down and flatten to dark stains on the sidewalk. The air became grey and opalescent; a solitary light suddenly outlined a window over the way; then another light; then a hundred more danced and glimmered into vision. Under his feet a thick, iron-studded skylight turned yellow; in the street the lamps of the taxicabs sent out glistening sheens along the already black pavement. The unwelcome November rain had perversely stolen the day’s last hour and pawned it with that ancient fence, the night. ~ F Scott Fitzgerald
419:Weakness or strength: there you are, strength. You do not know where you are going, nor why you are going; enter anywhere, reply to anything. They will no more kill you than if you were a corpse.” In the morning I had a look so lost, a face so dead, that perhaps those whom I met did not see me.

In cities, suddenly, the mud seemed red and black like a mirror when the lamp moves about in the adjoining room, like a treasure in the forest! Good luck, I cried, and I saw a sea of flames and smoke in the sky; to the right, to the left all the riches of the world flaming like a billion thunder-bolts. ~ Arthur Rimbaud
420:I looked at the door, at war with myself. On the one hand, I hated going anything Reth wanted me to. On the other hand, there was a mop with my name on it inside.
"Fine, but if you try anything-"
"Really, Evelyn,how I've missed your charming company."
Keeping a wary eye on the faerie, I followed hi, through the alley. We made our way down the lamp-lined street, his step so light it bordered on dancing. I felt like a graceless clod next to him. Then there was the aspect of his ethereal, near-angelic beauty compared to my..well, for the sake of my self-esteem, it was probably best not to compete. ~ Kiersten White
421:The body is God, the body is the temple, the body is the worshiper, the body is the sacred shrine. The body is the incense, the lamp, the sacred offerings; it is the body I worship with broken petals. After searching all the world, it was in the body I found all the treasure of the world. Nothing is born, nothing dies -- such is Ram's light. What is contained in the universe is also contained in the body: whatever you seek, you shall find. Pipa says, He is Primal Matter; the true guru will show this. [2184.jpg] -- from Songs of the Saints from the Adi Granth, Translated by Nirmal Dass

~ Pipa, Raga Dhanashri

422:...May I have this damaged bunch for two cents? Speak strongly and it shall be yours for two cents. That is a saved penny that you put in the star bank...Suffer the cold for an hour. Put a shawl around you. Sai, I am cold because I am saving to buy land. That hour will save you three cents' worth of coal... When you are alone at night, do not light the lamp. Sit in the darkness and dream awhile. Reckon out how much oil you saved and put its value in pennies in the bank. The money will grow. Someday there will be fifty dollars and somewhere on this long island is a piece of land that you may buy for that money. ~ Betty Smith
423:Tomorrow, Reader and Other Reader, if you are together, if you lie down in the same bed like a settled couple, each will turn on the lamp at the side of the bed and sink into his or her book; two parallel readings will accompany the approach of sleep; first you, then you will turn out the light; returning from separated universes, you will find each other fleetingly in the darkness, where all separations are erased, before divergent dreams draw you again, one to one side, and one to the other. But do not wax ironic on this prospect of conjugal harmony: what happier image of a couple could you set against it? ~ Italo Calvino
424:I have forgot much, Cynara! gone with the wind,
Flung roses, roses riotously with the throng,
Dancing, to put thy pale, lost lilies out of mind;
But I was desolate and sick of an old passion,
Yea, all the time, because the dance was long;
I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion.

I cried for madder music and for stronger wine,
But when the feast is finished and the lamps expire,
Then falls thy shadow, Cynara! the night is thine;
And I am desolate and sick of an old passion,
Yea, hungry for the lips of my desire:
I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion. ~ Ernest Dowson
425:Listen, Tenar. Heed me. You were the vessel of evil. The evil is poured out. It is done. It is buried in its own tomb. You were never made for cruelty and darkness; you were made to hold light, as a lamp burning holds and gives its light. I found the lamp unlit; I won’t leave it on some desert island like a thing found and cast away. I’ll take you to Havnor and say to the princes of Earthsea, ‘Look! In the place of darkness I found the light, her spirit. By her an old evil was brought to nothing. By her I was brought out of the grave. By her the broken was made whole, and where there was hatred there will be peace. ~ Ursula K Le Guin
426:1191
We Grow Accustomed To The Dark
We grow accustomed to the Dark When light is put away As when the Neighbor holds the Lamp
To witness her Goodbye A Moment - We uncertain step
For newness of the night Then - fit our Vision to the Dark And meet the Road - erect And so of larger - Darknesses Those Evenings of the Brain When not a Moon disclose a sign Or Star - come out - within The Bravest - grope a little And sometimes hit a Tree
Directly in the Forehead But as they learn to see Either the Darkness alters Or something in the sight
Adjusts itself to Midnight And Life steps almost straight.
~ Emily Dickinson
427:The lamp hummed:
'Regard the moon,
La lune ne garde aucune rancune,
She winks a feeble eye,
She smiles into corners.
She smoothes the hair of the grass.
The moon has lost her memory.
A washed-out smallpox cracks her face,
Her hand twists a paper rose,
That smells of dust and old Cologne,
She is alone
With all the old nocturnal smells
That cross and cross across her brain."
The reminiscence comes
Of sunless dry geraniums
And dust in crevices,
Smells of chestnuts in the streets,
And female smells in shuttered rooms,
And cigarettes in corridors
And cocktail smells in bars. ~ T S Eliot
428:And Viola is the idol, the theme of Naples. She is the spoiled sultana of the boards. To spoil her acting may be easy enough,—shall they spoil her nature? No, I think not. There, at home, she is still good and simple; and there, under the awning by the doorway,—there she still sits, divinely musing. How often, crook-trunked tree, she looks to thy green boughs; how often, like thee, in her dreams, and fancies, does she struggle for the light,—not the light of the stage-lamps. Pooh, child! be contented with the lamps, even with the rush-lights. A farthing candle is more convenient for household purposes than the stars. ~ Edward Bulwer Lytton
429:His first coming He was wrapped in swadding clothes. In His second coming He will be clothed royally in a robe dipped in blood. common people. In His second coming He will be accompanied by the massive armies of heaven. In His first coming the door of the inn was closed to Him. In His second coming the door of the heavens will be opened to Him. In His first coming His voice was the tiny cry of a baby. In His second coming His voice will thunder as the sound of many waters. In His first coming, He was the lamp of God who came bringing salvation. In His second coming, He will be the Lion of the tribe of Judah who comes bringing ~ David Jeremiah
430:It does not stop with the negro…. So I say in relation to the principle that all men are created equal, let it be as nearly reached as we can…. Let us discard all this quibbling about this man and the other man—this race and that race and the other race being inferior, and therefore they must be placed in an inferior position…. Let us discard all these things, and unite as one people throughout this land, until we shall once more stand up declaring that all men are created equal…. I leave you, hoping that the lamp of liberty will burn in your bosoms until there shall no longer be a doubt that all men are created free and equal.20 ~ Eric Foner
431:To The Memory Of Demon
Used to come in the blue
Of the glacier, at night, from Tamara.
With his wingtips he drew
Where the nightmares should boom, where to bar them.
Did not sob, nor entwine
The denuded, the wounded, the ailing…
A stone slab has survived
By the Georgian church, at the railings.
Hunchback shadows, distressed,
Did not dance by the fence of the temple.
Soft, about the princess
The zurna did not question the lamplight,
But the sparks in his hair
Were aglitter and bursting phosphorous,
And the giant did not hear
The dark Caucasus greying for sorrow.
~ Boris Pasternak
432:For many years in Cuba, nobody spoke of the problem between blacks and whites. It was considered too disagreeable to discuss. But my father spoke to me clearly so that I would understand what happened to his father and his uncles during the Little War of 1912, so that I would know how our men were hunted down day and night like animals, and finally hung by their genitals from the lampposts in Guáimaro. The war that killed my grandfather and great-uncles and thousands of other blacks is only a footnote in our history books. Why, then, should I trust anything I read? I trust only what I see, what I know with my heart, nothing more. ~ Cristina Garc a
433:I was waiting for you," said Gregory. "Might I have a moment's conversation?"

"Certainly. About what?" asked Syme in a sort of weak wonder.

Gregory struck out with his stick at the lamp-post, and then at the tree. "About this and this," he cried; "about order and anarchy. There is your precious order, that lean, iron lamp, ugly and barren; and there is anarchy, rich, living, reproducing itself--there is anarchy, splendid in green and gold."

"All the same," replied Syme patiently, "just at present you only see the tree by the light of the lamp. I wonder when you would ever see the lamp by the light of the tree. ~ G K Chesterton
434:Lately, I usually write at the desk in my living-room or bedroom. From time to time, our red and stripy cat named Foxy decides to be my companion, poking his curious caramel-colored nose to the screen, watching me typing, and making attempts to put his paws on the keyboard despite the fact that he knows he is not allowed to; he also loves to arrange “sunbathing sessions for himself, purring joyfully while lying with his belly up under the lamp placed to the left of my computer; and, of course, the cat can’t wait for when I happen to have a snack, to beg for some treats that seem to him tastiest if eaten from a caring human’s hand. ~ Sahara Sanders
435:This night, agitated by the growing storm,
how it has suddenly expanded its dimensions,
that ordinarily would have gone unnoticed,
like a cloth folded, and hidden in the folds of time.

Where the stars give resistance it does not stop there,
neither does it begin within the forest's depths,
nor show upon the surface of my face
nor with your appearance.

The lamps keep swaying, fully unaware:
is our light lying?
Is night the only reality
that has endured through thousands of years?

Translated by Albert Ernest Flemming

~ Rainer Maria Rilke, Night (This night, agitated by the growing storm)

436:Those very traumatic events in our lives give us a privileged opportunity to let God's love become concrete for us. What the psychoanaylyst strives to do by bringing traumatic experiences to consciousness often comes about much quicker and more completely by the action of the Holy Spirit. "The spirit of man is the lamp of the Lord, searching all his inermost parts" (Prov. 20:27) We can ask him to illuminate our past and lead us to those incidents that we have still not accepted wholeheartedly. We can save a lot of time if we go into analysis with the Holy Spirit...who is our true and ultimate therapist. Nothing is hidden from him. ~ Wilfrid Stinissen
437:Be quiet, Ash. I am trying to remember you.”

In the lamplight, shadows collected on his face as his eyebrows drew down. He must have taken her meaning, because he shook his head. “Well. I am trying to have you.” His voice was fiercely possessive. “Not for one night, nor even two. I want you every evening—mine outright, not a few hours stolen here or there. I want you during the day, on my arm. I want to know that when we’re apart you’re missing me; I want to know when we’re together, I’m the one who puts the smile on your face.” He punctuated each phrase with a kiss—against her chin, the line of her jaw, the hollow of her neck. ~ Courtney Milan
438:And when she finally dozed off, it wasn’t a cry that woke her, but the soft sound of a footstep.
“Psst. You awake, cher?”
Miranda fought her way up from sleep. “I am now.” Annoyance gave way to relief. She wondered why she wans’t more startled; it was almost as if she’d expected Etienne to show up. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Well, you musta been wishing for me, yeah?” he teased. “’Cause here I am.”
Switching on the lamp, Miranda solemnly patted the edge of the bed. “Sit down. We need to talk.”
“Awww, don’t be mad now. I just--”
“I know. You wanted to check on me. And I’m glad--I’m glad you came. ~ Richie Tankersley Cusick
439:And indeed, what is better than to sit by one's fireside in the evening with a book, while the wind beats against the window and the lamp is burning? One thinks of nothing, the hours slip by. Motionless we traverse countries we fancy we see, and your thought, blending with the fiction, playing with the details, follows the outline of the adventures. It mingles with the characters, and it seems as if it were yourself palpitating beneath their costumes. Has it ever happened to you, to come across some vague idea of one's own in a book, some dim image that comes back to you from afar, and as the completest expression of your own slightest sentiment? ~ Gustave Flaubert
440:The result would be random little lurches that would result in what is known as a random walk. The best way for us to envision this is to imagine a drunk who starts at a lamppost and lurches one step in a random direction every second. After two such lurches he may have gone back and forth to return to the lamp. Or he may be two steps away in the same direction. Or he may be one step west and one step northeast. A little mathematical plotting and charting reveals an interesting thing about such a random walk: statistically, the drunk’s distance from the lamp will be proportional to the square root of the number of seconds that have elapsed.35 Einstein ~ Walter Isaacson
441:I have been reading Plotinus all evening. He has the power to sooth me; and I find his sadness curiously comforting. Even when he writes: “Life here with the things of earth is a sinking, a defeat, a failure of the wing.” The wing has indeed failed. One sinks. Defeat is certain. Even as I write these lines, the lamp wick sputters to an end, and the pool of light in which I sit contracts. Soon the room will be dark. One has always feared that death would be like this. But what else is there? With Julian, the light went, and now nothing remains but to let the darkness come, and hope for a new sun and another day, born of time’s mystery and a man’s love of life. ~ Gore Vidal
442:English version by Robert Bly The Dark One threw me a glance like a dagger today. Since that moment, I am insane; I can't find my body. The pain has gone through my arms and legs, and I can't find my mind. At least three of my friends are completely mad. I know the thrower of daggers well; he enjoys roving the woods. The partridge loves the moon; and the lamplight pulls in the moth. You know, for the fish, water is precious; without it, the fish dies. If he is gone, how shall I live? I can't live without him. Go and speak to the dagger-thrower: Say, Mira belongs to you. [1689.jpg] -- from Mirabai: Ecstatic Poems, Translated by Robert Bly

~ Mirabai, The Dagger

443:Everything was fine with the Zen lunatics.... There was wisdom in it all, as you'll see if you take a walk some night on a suburban street and pass house after house on both sides of the street each with the lamplight of the living room, shining golden, and inside the little blue square of the television, each family riveting its attention on probably one show; nobody talking; silence in the yards; dogs barking at you because you pass on human feet instead of on wheels. You'll see what I mean, when it begins to appear like everybody in the world is soon going to be thinking the same way and the zen lunatics have long joined dust, laughter on their dust lips. ~ Jack Kerouac
444:The Lamp Of Life
Always we are following a light,
Always the light recedes; with groping hands
We stretch toward this glory, while the lands
We journey through are hidden from our sight
Dim and mysterious, folded deep in night,
We care not, all our utmost need demands
Is but the light, the light! So still it stands
Surely our own if we exert our might.
Fool! Never can'st thou grasp this fleeting gleam,
Its glowing flame would die if it were caught,
Its value is that it doth always seem
But just a little farther on. Distraught,
But lighted ever onward, we are brought
Upon our way unknowing, in a dream.
~ Amy Lowell
445:We grow accustomed to the Dark —
When Light is put away —
As when the Neighbor holds the Lamp
To witness her Good bye —

A Moment — We Uncertain step
For newness of the night —
Then — fit our Vision to the Dark —
And meet the Road — erect —

And so of larger — Darknesses —
Those Evenings of the Brain —
When not a Moon disclose a sign —
Or Star — come out — within —

The Bravest — grope a little —
And sometimes hit a Tree
Directly in the Forehead —
But as they learn to see —

Either the Darkness alters —
Or something in the sight
Adjusts itself to Midnight —
And Life steps almost straight. ~ Emily Dickinson
446:They paused at a table bearing a collection of magic lanterns, small embossed tin lamps with condensing lenses at the front. There was a slot for a hand-painted glass slide just behind the lens. When the lamp was lit, an image would be projected on a wall. Rohan insisted on buying one for Amelia, along with a packet of slides.
“But it’s a child’s toy,” she protested, holding the lantern by its wire handle. “What am I to do with it?”
“Indulge in pointless entertainment. Play. You should try it sometime.”
“Playing is for children, not adults.”
“Oh, Miss Hathaway,” he murmured, leading her away from the table. “The best kind of playing is for adults. ~ Lisa Kleypas
447:So the Scouts went to work
setting up camp--
raising the tent,

filling the lamp,

building the fire,
getting it lit.

Jane took time
to explore a bit.

She collected some leaves.
She studied some seeds.
That’s when she heard
a voice in the weeds.

Chuckling and talking
to himself in there
was--you guessed it--
Papa Q. Bear!

“This trick will be fun,”
Papa Bear said
as he pulled the sheet
over his head.

“Hmm,” said Jane
as she tiptoed away.
“This is a game
that two can play!”

Then using twigs
and leaves as a base,
she started to make
what looked like…

A FACE! ~ Stan Berenstain
448:It soon became apparent that the light of the lamp, though bestowing the doubtful privilege of a clearer view of Mr. Repetto's face, held certain disadvantages. Scarcely had the staff of Cosy Moments reached the faint yellow pool of light, in the centre of which Mr. Repetto reclined, than, with a suddenness which caused them to leap into the air, there sounded from the darkness down the road the crack-crack-crack of a revolver. Instantly from the opposite direction came other shots. Three bullets flicked grooves in the roadway almost at Billy's feet. The Kid gave a sudden howl. Psmith's hat, suddenly imbued with life, sprang into the air and vanished, whirling into the night. ~ P G Wodehouse
449:English version by Nirmal Dass If You are a mountain, then I am a peacock. If You are the moon, then I am a partridge. O Madho, if You break from me, then I shall break with You. And if I break from You, to whom shall I then go? If You are the lamp, then I am the wick. If You are the shrine, then I am the pilgrim. My love for You is true and real. When I fell in love with You, I gave up my love for others. Wherever I go, there I seek to serve You. No other god can be a Master like You. By praising You, I cut Yama's noose. Yearning for love Ravi Dass loudly sings. [2184.jpg] -- from Songs of the Saints from the Adi Granth, Translated by Nirmal Dass

~ Ravidas, If You are a mountain

450:Small animals are a great problem. I wish God had never created small animals, or else that He had made them so they could talk, or else that He'd given them better faces. Space. Take moths. They fly at the lamp and burn themsleves, and then they fly right back again. It can't be instinct, because it isn't the way it works. They just don't understand, so they go right on doing it. Then they lie on their backs and all their legs quiver, and then they're dead. Did you get all that? Does it sound good?"
"Very good," Grandmother said.
Sophia stood up and shouted, "Say this: say I hate everything that dies slow! Say I hate everything that won't let you help! Did you write that? ~ Tove Jansson
451:As I sat there in the uncomfortable silence, the first visual that crept into my mind was that dreadful scene in The Silence of the Lambs when Hannibal Lecter exposes Jodie Foster’s character, FBI agent Clarice Starling: “You’re so-o-o ambitious, aren’t you? You know what you look like to me, with your good bag and your cheap shoes? You look like a rube. A well-scrubbed, hustling rube, with a little taste. Good nutrition’s given you some length of bone, but you’re not more than one generation from poor white trash, are you, Agent Starling? And that accent you’ve tried so desperately to shed—pure West Virginia. What does your father do? Is he a coal miner? Does he stink of the lamp? ~ Bren Brown
452:The soul has need of a divine lamp, even of the Holy Ghost, who sets in order the darkened house. It needs the bright Sun of righteousness, which enlightens and rises upon the heart, as an instrument to win the battle. That woman who lost the piece of silver, first lighted the lamp, and then set the house in order, and thus, the house being set in order and the lamp lit, the piece of silver was found, buried in dirt and filth and earth. So now the soul cannot of itself find its own thoughts and disengage them; but when the divine lamp is lit, it lights up the darkened house, and then the soul beholds its thoughts how they lie buried in the filth and mire of sin. ~ Archimandrite Zacharias Zacharou
453:A golden-winged Angel stood
Before the Eternal Judgement-seat:
His looks were wild, and Devils' blood
Stained his dainty hands and feet.
The Father and the Son
Knew that strife was now begun.
They knew that Satan had broken his chain,
And with millions of daemons in his train,
Was ranging over the world again.
Before the Angel had told his tale,
A sweet and a creeping sound
Like the rushing of wings was heard around;
And suddenly the lamps grew pale--
The lamps, before the Archangels seven,
That burn continually in Heaven.
Published by Rossetti, Complete Poetical Works of P. B. S., 1870.
~ Percy Bysshe Shelley, Fragment - Satan Broken Loose

454:At home in Moscow everything was in its winter routine; the stoves were heated, and in the morning it was still dark when the children were having breakfast and getting ready for school, and the nurse would light the lamp for a short time. The frosts had begun already. When the first snow has fallen, on the first day of sledge-driving it is pleasant to see the white earth, the white roofs, to draw soft, delicious breath, and the season brings back the days of one's youth. The old limes and birches, white with hoar-frost, have a good-natured expression; they are nearer to one's heart than cypresses and palms, and near them one doesn't want to be thinking of the sea and the mountains. ~ Anton Chekhov
455:Sonnet I
Down the strait vistas where a city street
Fades in pale dust and vaporous distances,
Stained with far fumes the light grows less and less
And the sky reddens round the day's retreat.
Now out of orient chambers, cool and sweet,
Like Nature's pure lustration, Dusk comes down.
Now the lamps brighten and the quickening town
Rings with the trample of returning feet.
And Pleasure, risen from her own warm mould
Sunk all the drowsy and unloved daylight
In layers of odorous softness, Paphian girls
Cover with gauze, with satin, and with pearls,
Crown, and about her spangly vestments fold
The ermine of the empire of the Night.
~ Alan Seeger
456:Kestrel climbed down and studied the garden in the lamplight thrown from her sunroom. She chewed the inside of her cheek, and was wondering whether books stacked on the chair on top of the table would make a difference when she heard something.
The grate of a heel against pebbles. It came from beyond the door, and the other side of the wall.
Someone had been listening.
Was listening still.
As quietly as she could, Kestrel took the chair down from the table and went inside.


Before Arin left for the mountain pass, during the coldest hours of the night, he found time to order that every piece of furniture light enough for Kestrel to move be taken from her suite. ~ Marie Rutkoski
457:A Note

Life is the only way
to get covered in leaves,
catch your breath on the sand,
rise on wings;

to be a dog,
or stroke its warm fur;

to tell pain
from everything it's not;

to squeeze inside events,
dawdle in views,
to seek the least of all possible mistakes.

An extraordinary chance
to remember for a moment
a conversation held
with the lamp switched off;

and if only once
to stumble upon a stone,
end up soaked in one downpour or another,

mislay your keys in the grass;
and to follow a spark on the wind with your eyes;
and to keep on not knowing
something important. ~ Wis awa Szymborska
458:It has made me better loving you... it has made me wiser, and easier, and brighter. I used to want a great many things before, and to be angry that I did not have them. Theoretically, I was satisfied. I flattered myself that I had limited my wants. But I was subject to irritation; I used to have morbid sterile hateful fits of hunger, of desire. Now I really am satisfied, because I can’t think of anything better. It’s just as when one has been trying to spell out a book in the twilight, and suddenly the lamp comes in. I had been putting out my eyes over the book of life, and finding nothing to reward me for my pains; but now that I can read it properly I see that it’s a delightful story. ~ Henry James
459:Sleeping On A Night Of Autumn Rain
Cold cold 3rd autumn night
Peaceful leisure one old man
Lie late lamp go out after
Sleep beautiful rain sound in
Ash long warm bottle fire
Fragrance increase warm quilt cover
Sawn clear cold not rise
Frost leaf full level red
It's cold this night in autumn's third month,
Peacefully within, a lone old man.
He lies down late, the lamp already gone out,
And beautifully sleeps amid the sound of rain.
The ash inside the vessel still warm from the fire,
Its fragrance increases the warmth of quilt and covers.
When dawn comes, clear and cold, he does not rise,
The red frosted leaves cover the steps.
~ Bai Juyi
460:Improvisations: Light And Snow: 11
As I walked through the lamplit gardens,
On the thin white crust of snow,
So intensely was I thinking of my misfortune,
So clearly were my eyes fixed
On the face of this grief which has come to me,
That I did not notice the beautiful pale colouring
Of lamplight on the snow;
Nor the interlaced long blue shadows of trees;
And yet these things were there,
And the white lamps, and the orange lamps, and the lamps of lilac were there,
As I have seen them so often before;
As they will be so often again
Long after my grief is forgotten.
And still, though I know this, and say this, it cannot console me.
~ Conrad Potter Aiken
461:Now I saw his lifeless sate. And that there was no longer any difference between what once had been my father and the table he was lying on, or the floor on which the table stood, or the wall socket beneath the window, or the cable running to the lamp beside him. For humans are merely one form among many, which the world produces over and over again, not only in everything that lives but also in everything that does not live, drawn in sand, stone, and water. And death, which I have always regarded as the greatest dimension of life, dark, compelling, was no more than a pipe that springs a leak, a branch that cracks in the wind, a jacket that slips off a clothes hanger and falls to the floor. ~ Karl Ove Knausg rd
462:Now I saw his lifeless state. And that there was no longer any difference between what once had been my father and the table he was lying on, or the floor on which the table stood, or the wall socket beneath the window, or the cable running to the lamp beside him. For humans are merely one form among many, which the world produces over and over again, not only in everything that lives but also in everything that does not live, drawn in sand, stone, and water. And death, which I have always regarded as the greatest dimension of life, dark, compelling, was no more than a pipe that springs a leak, a branch that cracks in the wind, a jacket that slips off a clothes hanger and falls to the floor. ~ Karl Ove Knausg rd
463:Ill tell you the one that I think will: when a mans in love he wants to keep the one he loves- and cherish her. He wants to build a picket fence twixt them and the world. He doesn't want it temporary, a secret, hidden. He wants the world to know. The one he loves is somebody to him, not a thing to be taken, used and tossed aside. Hell, I'm not saying he shouldn't be interested in your pretty ankles and what a nice sway your bustles got. That's part of it too; but only a part. The rest of it is the long years ahead, the laughing together, and the crying, bringing up your kids, nodding together under the lamplight when your heads have turned white, and finally lying together forever in the long dark... ~ Frank Yerby
464:The song that I came to sing remains unsung to this day.

I have spent my days in stringing and in unstringing my instrument.

The time has not come true, the words have not been rightly set;
only there is the agony of wishing in my heart.

The blossom has not opened; only the wind is sighing by.

I have not seen his face, nor have I listened to his voice;
only I have heard his gentle footsteps from the road before my house.

The livelong day has passed in spreading his seat on the floor;
but the lamp has not been lit and I cannot ask him into my house.

I live in the hope of meeting with him; but this meeting is not yet.

~ Rabindranath Tagore, Song Unsung

465:the time I got back to my room, I had thoroughly envisioned every wretched scenario imaginable . . . only to find a new, neatly folded tunic lying on the lid of my trunk. Beside the tunic, there was a broad crimson leather belt that cinched tight with fine bronze buckles, and a pair of red-dyed leather sandals that laced all the way up to the knee. There was also a lamp—a fine new oil lamp to replace the dim little lump of tallow candle that sat in a clay dish on my windowsill. I remembered the lamp the Lanista had lowered into the grave of the gladiatrix Ismene, and a shiver ran up my spine. I had been chosen to swear the oath. The lamp would light my cell until the day I won my freedom. Or died. ~ Lesley Livingston
466:The Beautiful American Word, Sure
The beautiful American word, Sure,
As I have come into a room, and touch
The lamp's button, and the light blooms with such
Certainty where the darkness loomed before,
As I care for what I do not know, and care
Knowing for little she might not have been,
And for how little she would be unseen,
The intercourse of lives miraculous and dear.
Where the light is, and each thing clear,
separate from all others, standing in its place,
I drink the time and touch whatever's near,
And hope for day when the whole world has that face:
For what assures her present every year?
In dark accidents the mind's sufficient grace.
~ Delmore Schwartz
467:Sonnet Xxxv: The Lamp's Shrine
Sometimes I fain would find in thee some fault,
That I might love thee still in spite of it:
Yet how should our Lord Love curtail one whit
Thy perfect praise whom most he would exalt?
Alas! he can but make my heart's low vault
Even in men's sight unworthier, being lit
By thee, who thereby show'st more exquisite
Like fiery chrysoprase in deep basalt.
Yet will I nowise shrink; but at Love's shrine
Myself within the beams his brow doth dart
Will set the flashing jewel of thy heart
In that dull chamber where it deigns to shine:
For lo! in honour of thine excellencies
My heart takes pride to show how poor it is.
~ Dante Gabriel Rossetti
468:THE TREE OF LIFE

The sun is rising,
And the ether dance at the first sight of his light,
As he ascends like a phoenix from the ashes of morality,
His luminous rays form the magnificent tree of life.
He springs up from the east,
Spreading his long arms like branches,
Over the horizons of milky meadows and open seas,
Extending his wings to embrace all living things.
He walks on water and grazes through fields,
Pouring his butter like honey to feed the Earth.
Towering over all of creation,
He who is the lamp of the universe,
The power source of all life.
And in his truth and light,
Everything becomes aroused
Like a flower,
And everything is given
Sight. ~ Suzy Kassem
469:Today each of you is the object of the other's reading, each reads in the other the unwritten story. Tomorrow, Reader and Other Reader, if you are together, if you lie down in the same bed like a settled couple, each will turn on the lamp at the side of the bed and sink into his or her book; two parallel readings will accompany the approach of sleep; first you, then you will turn out the light; returning from separated universes, you will find each other fleetingly in the darkness, where all separations are erased, before divergent dreams draw you again, one to one side, and one to the other. But do not wax ironic on this prospect of conjugal harmony: what happier image of a couple could you set against it? ~ Italo Calvino
470:Everything was fine with the Zen Lunatics, the nut wagon was too far away to hear us. But there was a wisdom in it all, as you'll see if you take a walk some night on a suburban street and pass house after house on both sides of the street each with the lamplight of the living room, shining golden, and inside the little blue square of the television, each living family riveting its attention on probably one show; nobody talking; silence in the yards; dogs barking at you because you pass on human feet instead of on wheels. You'll see what I mean, when it begins to appear like everybody in the world is soon going to be thinking the same way and the Zen Lunatics have long joined dust, laughter on their dust lips. ~ Jack Kerouac
471:This is a powder that when applied to the air causes ghosts to become visible,” Henry said.

Magnus tilted the jar of shining grains up to the lamp admiringly, and when Henry beamed in an
encouraging fashion, Magnus removed the cork.
“It seems very fine to me,” he said, and on a whim he poured it upon his hand. It coated his brown skin, gloving one hand in shimmering luminescence. “And in addition to its practical uses, it would seem to work for cosmetic purposes. This powder would make my very skin glimmer for eternity.”
Henry frowned. “Not eternity,” he said, but then he brightened. “But I could make you up another batch whenever you please!”
“I could shine at will!” Magnus grinned at Henry ~ Cassandra Clare
472:Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. 20But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys, and where thieves do not break in or steal; 21for where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. 22 “The eye is the lamp of the body; so then if your eye is clear, your whole body will be full of light. 23But if your eye is bad, your whole body will be full of darkness. If then the light that is in you is darkness, how great is the darkness! 24 “No one can serve two masters; for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and wealth. ~ Anonymous
473:Returning To Brussels
Upon a Flemish road, when noon was deep,
I passed a little consecrated shrine,
Where, among simple pictures ranged in line,
The blessed Mary holds her child asleep.
To kneel here, shepherd-maidens leave their sheep
When they feel grave because of the sunshine,
And again kneel here in the day's decline;
And here, when their life ails them, come to weep.
Night being full, I passed on the same road
By the same shrine; within, a lamp was lit
Which through the silence of clear darkness glowed.
Thus, when life's heat is past and doubts arise
Darkling, the lamp of Faith must strengthen it,
Which sometimes will not light and sometimes dies.
~ Dante Gabriel Rossetti
474:With his “romantic weakness for gags”—inherited from his father, along with his talent for pratfalls—Updike was a willing participant in the Lampoon’s elaborately orchestrated “social frivolity.” During his Fools’ Week in February 1951, he starred in a stunt he remembered with what seems today somewhat misplaced pride; he called it his “one successful impersonation.” Disguised as a blind cripple selling pencils, he stationed himself in front of Widener Library; a couple of his fellow fools, dressed as priests, bought some pencils and then began to argue with him, claiming to have been shortchanged. The quarrel drew a crowd—whereupon the two “priests” pulled large codfish from under their cassocks and pelted him, in his blind ~ Adam Begley
475:Steerforth, laughing, took me by the arm and led me out. We went downstairs, one behind another. Near the bottom, somebody fell, and rolled down. Somebody else said it was Copperfield. I was angry at that false report, until, finding myself on my back in the passage, I began to think there might be some foundation for it. A very foggy night, with great rings round the lamps in the streets! There was an indistinct talk of its being wet. I considered it frosty. Steerforth dusted me under a lamp-post, and put my hat into shape, which somebody produced from somewhere in a most extraordinary manner, for I hadn't had it on before. Steerforth then said, 'You are all right, Copperfield, are you not?' and I told him, 'Neverberrer. ~ Charles Dickens
476:The door opened. A guy came in. Busy, bustling, sixty-something, medium size, a gray suit, a tight waistband, a warm and friendly face. Pink and round. Lots of energy, and the start of a smile. A guy who got things done, with a lot of charm. Like a salesman. Something complicated. Like a financial instrument, or a Rolls-Royce automobile. “I’m sorry,” the guy said. To Sinclair only. “I didn’t know you had company.” American. An old-time Yankee accent. No one spoke. Then Sinclair said, “Excuse me. Sergeant Frances Neagley and Major Jack Reacher, U.S. Army, meet Mr. Rob Bishop, CIA head of station at the Hamburg consulate.” “I just did a drive-by,” Bishop said. “On the parallel street. The kid’s bedroom. The lamp has moved in the window. ~ Lee Child
477:She gathered her quilt around her body and went inside, made her way gingerly around furniture to the living room, and curled up in a chair in a dark corner, flipped on the lamp beside her and jumped two feet straight up. Roxie was sitting in a rocking chair not two feet away. Pink sponge curlers covered her head. She wore some kind of whitish-green mask on her face. Her yellow satin caftan had splashes of red flowers the size of dinner plates all over it. One yellow satin slipper with marabou trip and two-inch heels dangled from the end of her right foot, which was slung over the leg of the chair. “So do we get two shovels and bury him, or did he have some kind of tale to tell that kept his heart beating a while longer?” Roxie asked. ~ Carolyn Brown
478:And yours? What is your opinion? Truly?” She turned to face me, her green eyes brilliant in the lamplight. “Would it matter?”
“No. I love him and, damn the world, I will have him.”

She grinned. “Good girl. And since my opinion doesn’t matter, I give it freely: Brisbane is worth twenty Marches and dearer to me than most of my own brothers. If you do not marry him, I will do so myself, simply to keep him in the family.”

I turned away quickly. “Are you weeping?” she asked.

“Don’t be absurd.” My voice was muffled and I swallowed, blinking furiously. “I have a cinder in my eye.” Portia dropped a swift kiss to my cheek. “Happiness is within your grasp now, pet. Hang onto it, and do not let it go, whatever you do. ~ Deanna Raybourn
479:One thing had always confused Quentin about the magic he read about in books: it never seemed especially hard to do. There were lots of furrowed brows and thick books and long white beards and whatnot, but when it came right down to it, you memorized the incantation—or you just read it off the page, if that was too much trouble—you collected the herbs, waved the wand, rubbed the lamp, mixed the potion, said the words—and just like that the forces of the beyond did your bidding. It was like making salad dressing or driving stick or assembling Ikea furniture—just another skill you could learn. It took some time and effort, but compared to doing calculus, say, or playing the oboe—well, there really was no comparison. Any idiot could do magic. ~ Lev Grossman
480:The luminosity below me seemed confined directly to the area to be lighted; there was no diffusion of light upward or beyond the limits the lamps were designed to light. This was effected, I was told, by lamps designed upon principles resulting from ages of investigation of the properties of light waves and the laws governing them which permit Barsoomian scientists to confine and control light as we confine and control matter. The light waves leave the lamp, pass along a prescribed circuit and return to the lamp. There is no waste nor, strange this seemed to me, are there any dense shadows when lights are properly installed and adjusted, for the waves in passing around objects to return to the lamp, illuminate all sides of them. The ~ Edgar Rice Burroughs
481:The Spook
Last night I dreamed that I was come again
Unto the house where my beloved dwells
After long years of wandering and pain.
And I stood out beneath the drenching rain
And all the street was bare, and black with night,
But in my true love's house was warmth and light.
Yet I could not draw near nor enter in,
And long I wondered if some secret sin
Or old, unhappy anger held me fast;
Till suddenly it came into my head
That I was killed long since and lying deadOnly a homeless wraith that way had passed.
So thus I found my true love's house again
And stood unseen amid the winter night
And the lamp burned within, a rosy light,
And the wet street was shining in the rain.
~ Clive Staples Lewis
482:Mrs. Fisher, her hands folded on her lap, was doing nothing, merely gazing fixedly into the fire. The lamp was arranged conveniently for reading, but she was not reading. Her great dead friends did not seem worth reading that night. They always said the same things now—over and over again they said the same things, and nothing new was to be got out of them any more for ever. No doubt they were greater than any one was now, but they had this immense disadvantage, that they were dead. Nothing further was to be expected of them; while of the living, what might one not still expect? She craved for the living, the developing—the crystallized and finished wearied her. She was thinking that if only she had had a son—a son like Mr. Briggs, a dear ~ Elizabeth von Arnim
483:THE LAMPS ARE DIFFERENT
BUT THE LIGHT IS THE SAME

So many garish lamps in the dying brain’s lamp-show,
Forget about them.
Concentrate on the essence, concentrate on the Light.
In lucid bliss, calmly smoking off its own holy fire,

The Light streams towards you from all things,
All people, all possible permutations of good, evil, thought, passion.

The lamps are different,
but the Light is the same.

One matter, one energy, one Light, one Light-mind,
Endlessly emanating all things.

One turning and burning diamond,
One, one, one.

Ground yourself, strip yourself down,
To blind loving silence.
Stay there, until you see
You are gazing at the Light
With its own ageless eyes ~ Rumi
484:Let’s get some sleep,” he whispered. “Before dawn we’ll see what we can gather up.”
His eyes rested on her forehead, on the new bruises and gashes from the Juggernaut blast.
“You look awful,” he said.
Camille narrowed her eyes to slits. She grabbed the lamp from his hands. “Thank you very much.”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” he said, following her as she climbed the narrow stairwell.
“You look just as whipped,” she said over her shoulder. Camille already felt like a load of dung-her head throbbed, her limbs ached, and the rope marks around her wrists burned. She didn’t need to be told she looked dreadful, too.
“The bruises, Camille. Your injuries look awful, not you,” he said. She walked down the hallway in self-conscious silence. ~ Angie Frazier
485:At evening when the lamp is lit,
The tired Human People sit
And doze, or turn with solemn looks
The speckled pages of their books.

Then I, the Dangerous Kitten, prowl
And in the Shadows softly growl,
And roam about the farthest floor
Where Kitten never trod before.

And, crouching in the jungle damp,
I watch the Human Hunter’s camp,
Ready to spring with fearful roar
As soon as I shall hear them snore.

And then with stealthy tread I crawl
Into the dark and trackless hall,
Where 'neath the Hat-tree's shadows deep
Umbrellas fold their wings and sleep.

A cuckoo calls — and to their dens
The People climb like frightened hens,
And I'm alone — and no one cares
In Darkest Africa — downstairs. ~ Oliver Herford
486:Amelia, if we have children … will you mind that they’re part Roma?”
“Not if you don’t mind that they’re part Hathaway.”
He made a sound of amusement and finished undressing. “And I thought life on the road would be a challenge. You know, it would terrify a lesser man, trying to manage your family.”
“You’re right. I can’t imagine why you’re willing to take us on.”
He gave her naked body a frankly lascivious glance as he joined her beneath the covers. “Believe me, the compensations are well worth it.”
“What about your freedom?” Amelia asked, snuggling close as he lay beside her. “Are you sorry to have lost it?”
“No, love.” Cam reached to turn down the lamp, enfolding them in velvet darkness. “I’ve finally found it. Right here, with you. ~ Lisa Kleypas
487:He just stared into the flames. 2 A happy man has no past, while an unhappy man has nothing else. In his old age Dorrigo Evans never knew if he had read this or had himself made it up. Made up, mixed up, and broken down. Relentlessly broken down. Rock to gravel to dust to mud to rock and so the world goes, as his mother used to say when he demanded reasons or explanation as to how the world got to be this way or that. The world is, she would say. It just is, boy. He had been trying to wrest the rock free from an outcrop to build a fort for a game he was playing when another, larger rock dropped onto his thumb, causing a large and throbbing blood blister beneath the nail. His mother swung Dorrigo up onto the kitchen table where the lamp light fell strongest ~ Richard Flanagan
488:It was a September evening, and not yet seven o'clock, but the day had been a dreary one, and a dense drizzly fog lay low upon the great city. Mud-colored clouds drooped sadly over the muddy streets. Down the Strand the lamps were but misty splotches of diffused light which threw a feeble circular glimmer upon the slimy pavement. The yellow glare from the shop-windows streamed out into the steamy, vaporous air, and threw a murky, shifting radiance across the crowded thoroughfare. There was, to my mind, something eerie and ghost-like in the endless procession of faces which flitted across these narrow bars of light,—sad faces and glad, haggard and merry. Like all human kind, they flitted from the gloom into the light, and so back into the gloom once more. ~ Arthur Conan Doyle
489:Hello,' he said, his voice and smile pleasant.
'You can't touch me!' I sat up and pulled the covers over myself.
'Yes about that. You need to negate the command.'
'Excuse me?'
He looked at me patiently, like he was explaining something to a stubborn child. 'You need to break that command.'
'And why on earth would I ever want to do that?' I glared at him. Lunatic.
'Because I wasn't finished.'
'Oh, no, I really think that you were.' I held up my wrist. It still bore the scarlet mark of his hand and, to my eyes at least, was bright against the light of the lamp. Then, since I was holding up my hand anyway, I flipped him off.
'You're going to need more.'
'Well, that's easy.' I held up my other hand and flipped him off with that one, too. ~ Kiersten White
490:Why do you care what happens to her? I thought we humans were vapors to you, here today and gone tomorrow.”
“Caspida is . . . different. She reminds me of someone, someone I’d give my life for if I could.”
“The queen?” he asks. “The one who died?”
“Roshana. My dear Ro.” My voice is soft as a ripple on the water. “She once ruled the Amulens, and Caspida is her descendant. She has Roshana’s strength of spirit, and I cannot look at her without thinking of my old friend. If she were to come to harm on my account . . . I could not bear that through the centuries.” I already carry a mountain of shame, a constant reminder of that day on Mount Tissia.
Aladdin lifts a hand and brushes the hair back from my face. “You truly are remarkable, Zahra of the Lamp. ~ Jessica Khoury
491:Aureliano Segundo was deep in the reading of a book. Although it had no cover and the title did not appear anywhere, the boy enjoyed the story of a woman who sat at a table and ate nothing but kernels of rice, which she picked up with a pin, and the story of the fisherman who borrowed a weight for his net from a neighbor and when he gave him a fish in payment later it had a diamond in its stomach, and the one about the lamp that fulfilled wishes and about flying carpets. Surprised, he asked Ursula if all that was true and she answered him that it was, that many years ago the gypsies had brought magic lamps and flying mats to Macondo.
"What's happening," she sighed, "is that the world is slowly coming to an end and those things don't come here any more. ~ Gabriel Garc a M rquez
492:He noticed her eyes especially were beautiful, well-shaped and of an odd color. “I’ve never seen anybody with eyes the color of yours,” he said. “They are from my mother, I guess. Almost everyone in Jericho has dark eyes, but my mother was a slave. She used to tell me about her home where she was born. There was ice and snow there. Very cold. Her hair was light and her eyes were blue. She died some time ago.” Othniel could not help but admire the woman’s appearance. The lamp was burning, and the yellow light was kind to her, showing the full, soft lines of her body. He noticed also that her face was very expressive. Her feelings showed immediately on her face. She did not smile much, but when she did her whole expression lit up. He wanted to ask her about herself, ~ Gilbert Morris
493:I’m nothing, nothing but a pile of furs, nothing important. You don’t see me. You don’t see anything. “Jitan!” He shouts to his men. “Imir!” The swift footsteps of two men approach, and a moment later, lamplight chases away the darkness beneath the cart. Shikaat rips the fur free, and I find myself staring into his triumphant face. Except his triumph turns to bewilderment almost immediately. He gazes at the fur and then back at me. He holds up the lamp, illuminating me clearly. But he doesn’t look at me. Almost as if he can’t see me. As if I’m invisible. Which is impossible. The second I think it, he blinks and grabs me. “You disappeared,” he whispers. “And now you’re here. Did you magick me?” He shakes me hard, rattling my teeth in my head. “How did you do it?” “Piss ~ Sabaa Tahir
494:It all matters. That someone turns out the lamp, picks up the windblown wrapper, says hello to the invalid, pays at the unattended lot, listens to the repeated tale, folds the abandoned laundry, plays the game fairly, tells the story honestly, acknowledges help, gives credit, says good night, resists temptation, wipes the counter, waits at the yellow, makes the bed, tips the maid, remembers the illness, congratulates the victor, accepts the consequences, takes a stand, steps up, offers a hand, goes first, goes last, chooses the small portion, teaches the child, tends to the dying, comforts the grieving, removes the splinter, wipes the tear, directs the lost, touches the lonely, is the whole thing. What is most beautiful is least acknowledged. What is worth dying for is barely noticed. ~ Laura McBride
495:The Glow-Worm To Her Love
BENEATH cool ferns, in dewy grass,
Among the leaves that fringe the stream,
I hear the feet of lovers pass,
--I hide all day, and dream.
But when the night, with wide soft wings,
Droops on the trembling waiting wood,
And lulls the restless woodland things
Within its solitude,
Ah, then my soft green lamp I light,
That thou may'st find me by its fire-Come, crown me, O my winged delight
My darling, my desire.
Yet they who praise the lamp I bear
Have never a word of praise for thee,
My love, my life, my King of Air,
Who lightest the lamp in me.
Thine, thine should be the praise they give
My King, who art all praise above,
Since but for thee I dream and live,
And light the lamp of love.
~ Edith Nesbit
496:Eight o'clock, no later,
You light the lamps,

The big one by the large window,
The small one on your desk,

They are not to see by--
It is still twilight out over the sand,

The scrub oaks and cranberries.
Even the small birds have not settled

For sleep yet, out of the reach
Of prowling foxes. No,

You light the lamps because
You are alone in your small house

And the wicks sputtering gold
Are like two visitors with good stories

They will tell slowly, in soft voices,
While the air outside turns quietly

A grainy and luminous blue.
You wish it would never change--

But of course the darkness keeps
Its appointment. Each evening,

An inscrutable presence, it has the final word
Outside every door. ~ Mary Oliver
497:He watched sleepily the flakes, silver and dark, falling obliquely against the lamplight. The time had come for him to set out on his journey westward. Yes, the newspapers were right: snow was general all over Ireland. It was falling on every part of the dark central plain, on the treeless hills, falling softly upon the Bog of Allen and, farther westward, softly falling into the dark mutinous Shannon waves. It was falling, too, upon every part of the lonely churchyard on the hill where Michael Furey lay buried. It lay thickly drifted on the crooked crosses and headstones, on the spears of the little gate, on the barren thorns. His soul swooned slowly as he heard the snow falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, like the descent of their last end, upon all the living and the dead. ~ James Joyce
498:be that your cousin has influenced you in some way—but as for our Junior Surgeon,” he turned to Carausius, “I remember that when first he was posted here, you yourself, Caesar, were not too sure of his good faith. This is surely some plot of Maximian’s, to cast doubt and suspicion between the Emperor of Britain and the man who, however unworthily, serves him to the best of his ability as chief minister.” Justin stepped forward, his hands clenched at his sides. “That is a foul lie,” he said, for once without a trace of his stutter. “And you know it, Allectus; none better.” “Will you grant me also a space to speak?” Carausius said quietly, and silence fell like a blight on the lamplit chamber. He looked round at all three of them, taking his time. “I remember my doubts, Allectus. I remember also that the ~ Rosemary Sutcliff
499:i am dead but i know the dead are not like this."

the dead can sleep
they don’t get up and rage
they don’t have a wife.

her white face
like a flower in a closed window lifts up and
looks at me.

the curtain smokes a cigarette
and a moth dies in a
freeway cash
as I examine the shadows of my
hands.

an owl, the size of a baby clock
rings for me, come on come on
it says as Jerusalem is hustled
down crotch-stained halls.

the 5 a.m. grass is nasal now
in hums of battleships and valleys
in the raped light that brings on
the fascist birds.

I put out the lamp and get in bed
beside her, she thinks I’m there
mumbles a rosy gratitude
as I stretch my legs
to coffin length
get in and swim away
from frogs and fortunes. ~ Charles Bukowski
500:13084
Tonight I came back to the hotel alone; the other has decided to return later on. The anxieties are already here, like the poison already prepared (jealousy, abandonment, restlessness); they merely wait for a little time to pass in order to be able to declare themselves with some propriety. I pick up a book and take a sleeping pill, "calmly." The silence of this huge hotel is echoing, indifferent, idiotic (faint murmur of draining bathtubs); the furniture and the lamps are stupid; nothing friendly that might warm ("I'm cold, let's go back to Paris). Anxiety mounts; I observe its progress, like Socrates chatting (as I am reading) and feeling the cold of the hemlock rising in his body; I hear it identify itself moving up, like an inexorable figure, against the background of the things that are here. ~ Roland Barthes

IN CHAPTERS



   53 Poetry
   23 Fiction
   18 Philosophy
   18 Integral Yoga
   16 Mysticism
   12 Occultism
   2 Sufism
   2 Psychology
   2 Christianity
   1 Yoga
   1 Alchemy


   13 Rabindranath Tagore
   13 Percy Bysshe Shelley
   12 Sri Aurobindo
   11 H P Lovecraft
   10 Sri Ramakrishna
   8 Nolini Kanta Gupta
   6 The Mother
   5 Aleister Crowley
   3 Kabir
   2 Walt Whitman
   2 Satprem
   2 Ravidas
   2 Mirabai
   2 James George Frazer
   2 Friedrich Schiller
   2 Aristotle


   13 Tagore - Poems
   13 Shelley - Poems
   12 The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna
   11 Lovecraft - Poems
   9 Liber ABA
   4 The Bible
   3 Record of Yoga
   2 Writings In Bengali and Sanskrit
   2 Whitman - Poems
   2 The Secret Doctrine
   2 The Golden Bough
   2 Songs of Kabir
   2 Schiller - Poems
   2 Poetics
   2 Essays Divine And Human
   2 Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 04
   2 Collected Poems
   2 A Garden of Pomegranates - An Outline of the Qabalah


04.42 - To the Heights-XLII, #Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 02, #Nolini Kanta Gupta, #Integral Yoga
  
   the Lamp lies unlit and dismal dark-
   Bring to it the spark of your morning love and life,
   the Lamp is lit and burns.
  
   the Lamp burns low and dim-
   Bring to it your earnest loyalty and clear adhesion,
   the Lamp burns high and bright.
  
  --
   Call unto it the bending Grace from beyond,
   the Lamp has become the Sun!
  

07.36 - The Body and the Psychic, #Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 03, #Nolini Kanta Gupta, #Integral Yoga
  
   The Psychic is like the wire between the generator and the Lamp. What is the generator and what is the Lamp, or rather, who is the generator and who the Lamp? The Divine is the generator and the body, the visible being, is the Lamp. The function then of the Psychic is to connect the two. In other words, if there were no Psychic in Matter, Matter could not come in direct contact with the Divine. All human beings, including yourself, all carry the Divine within you, you have only to enter within you to find Him. It is a unique speciality of the human being, rather of all embodied beings living upon earth. In the human being, the psychic becomes more conscious and formed; more conscious and therefore also more free, it is individualised. You should note that it is a speciality of the earth alone. It is the direct infusion of a purifying and redeeming agent into the most obscure and unconscious Matter to awaken it by degrees towards the divine consciousness, the divine presence, to the Divine Himself. It is the psychic presence that makes of man an exceptional being. Perhaps it is not good to tell it to him too often, for as it is he is already puffed up and thinks very highly of himself and there is no need to encourage him in that direction. Still it is a fact: so much so that beings from other worlds, worlds of what are known as demigods or even gods, beings from what Sri Aurobindo calls the Overmind, are eager to take a physical body upon earth so that they may experience the Psychic, as they do not possess it. These beings have very many qualities which men have not, but they lack this divine presence which is quite an exceptional thing belonging to the earth alone. All the inhabitants of the higher worlds the Higher Mind, the Overmind and other domainsdo not have the psychic being. Naturally, the beings of the vital worlds have not got it either. But these vital beings do not regret, for they do not want to have it. There are, however, a few exceptional beings on this level who wish to be converted and therefore desire a physical body; but the rest do not want, they are bound to the law of their being and cannot repudiate it.
  

09.03 - The Psychic Being, #Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 04, #Nolini Kanta Gupta, #Integral Yoga
  
   The psychic is like an electric wire that connects the generator with the Lamp; the Lamp being the body, the visible form. Its function is likewise, that is to say, if the psychic were not there in Matter, it could have no direct contact with the Divine. It is because of the psychic presence that there can be a direct contact between Matter and the Divine. And every human being can be told: "You carry the Divine within you, you have only to enter within yourself and you will find Him." It is a direct, special transmuting infusion into the most inconscient and obscure Matter to awaken it once more step by step to the Divine Consciousness, the Divine Presence and finally the Divine Himself.
  

10.01 - A Dream, #Writings In Bengali and Sanskrit, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  
  The boy laughed and asked, Did you follow what I said, Harimohon? Yes, I did, he replied, then thought for a while and said, O Keshta, again you are deceiving me. You never gave the reason why you created evil! So saying, he caught hold of the boys hand. But the boy, setting himself free, rebuked Harimohon, Be off! Do you want to get out of me all my secrets in an hours time? Suddenly the boy blew out the Lamp and said with a chuckle, Well, Harimohon, you have forgotten all about lashing me! Out of that fear I did not even sit on your lap, lest, angry with your outward miseries, you should teach me a lesson! I do not trust you any more. Harimohon stretched his arms forward, but the boy moved farther and said, No Harimohon, I reserve that bliss for your next birth. Good-bye. So saying, the boy disappeared into the dark night. Listening to the chime of Sri Krishnas musical anklets, Harimohon woke up gently. Then he began thinking, What sort of dream is this! I saw hell, I saw heaven, I called the Divine rude names, taking him to be a mere stripling, I even scolded him. How awful! But now I am feeling very peaceful. Then Harimohon began recollecting the charming image of the dusky-complexioned boy, and went on murmuring from time to time, How beautiful! How beautiful!
  

1.00 - Gospel, #The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna, #Sri Ramakrishna, #Hinduism
  
  But a series of reverses shocked him and he became eager to solve the riddle of life. He had heard people say that in spiritual life the help of a guru was imperative and that the guru was to be regarded as God Himself. But Girish was too well acquainted with human nature to see perfection in a man. His first meeting with Sri Ramakrishna did not impress him at all. He returned home feeling as if he had seen a freak at a circus; for the Master, in a semi-conscious mood, had inquired whether it was evening, though the Lamps were burning in the room. But their paths often crossed, and Girish could not avoid further encounters. The Master attended a performance in Girish's Star Theatre. On this occasion, too, Girish found nothing impressive about him. One day, however, Girish happened to see the Master dancing and singing with the devotees. He felt the contagion and wanted to join them, but restrained himself for fear of ridicule. Another day Sri Ramakrishna was about to give him spiritual instruction, when Girish said: "I don't want to listen to instructions. I have myself written many instructions. They are of no use to me. Please help me in a more tangible way if you can." This pleased the Master and he asked Girish to cultivate faith.
  

1.00 - Main, #Book of Certitude, #Baha u llah, #Baha i
  
  O ye peoples of the world! Know assuredly that My commandments are the Lamps of My loving providence among My servants, and the keys of My mercy for My creatures. Thus hath it been sent down from the heaven of the Will of your Lord, the Lord of Revelation. Were any man to taste the sweetness of the words which the lips of the All-Merciful have willed to utter, he would, though the treasures of the earth be in his possession, renounce them one and all, that he might vindicate the truth of even one of His commandments, shining above the Dayspring of His bountiful care and loving-kindness.
  
  --
  
  Say: This is that hidden knowledge which shall never change, since its beginning is with nine, the symbol that betokeneth the concealed and manifest, the inviolable and unapproachably exalted Name. As for what We have appropriated to the children, this is a bounty conferred on them by God, that they may render thanks unto their Lord, the Compassionate, the Merciful. These, verily, are the Laws of God; transgress them not at the prompting of your base and selfish desires. Observe ye the injunctions laid upon you by Him Who is the Dawning-place of Utterance. The sincere among His servants will regard the precepts set forth by God as the Water of Life to the followers of every faith, and the Lamp of wisdom and loving providence to all the denizens of earth and heaven.
  
  --
  
  Assist ye, O My people, My chosen servants who have arisen to make mention of Me among My creatures and to exalt My Word throughout My realm. These, truly, are the stars of the heaven of My loving providence and the Lamps of My guidance unto all mankind. But he whose words conflict with that which hath been sent down in My Holy Tablets is not of Me. Beware lest ye follow any impious pretender. These Tablets are embellished with the seal of Him Who causeth the dawn to appear, Who lifteth up His voice between the heavens and the earth. Lay hold on this Sure Handle and on the Cord of My mighty and unassailable Cause.
  
  --
  
  This is a Book which hath become the Lamp of the Eternal unto the world, and His straight, undeviating Path amidst the peoples of the earth. Say: This is the Dayspring of Divine knowledge, if ye be of them that understand, and the Dawning-place of God's commandments, if ye be of those who comprehend.
  

10.12 - Awake Mother, #Writings In Bengali and Sanskrit, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  The Mother awakes, not a leaf moves;
  The still flame of the Lamp is dying in the room:
  In the lonely paths of the city, in the fields and the woodlands and the hills

1.02 - MAPS OF MEANING - THREE LEVELS OF ANALYSIS, #Maps of Meaning, #Jordan Peterson, #Psychology
  context has just manifested itself. You switch set. Now your goal still nested within the reading a
  book story is fix the reading lamp. You adjust your plans, find a new bulb, and place it in the Lamp.
  Flash! It burns out again. This time you smell burnt wire. This is worrisome. The book is now forgotten
  irrelevant, given the current state of affairs. Is there something wrong with the Lamp (and, therefore at a
  slightly more general level with all future plans, that depend on that lamp)? You explore. the Lamp
  doesnt smell. Its the electrical outlet, in the wall! The plate covering the outlets is hot! What does that
  mean? You shift your apprehension up several levels of spatial-temporal resolution. Maybe there is
  something wrong with the wiring of the house, itself! the Lamp is now forgotten. Ensuring that your house
  does not burn down has suddenly taken priority. How does this shift in attention occur?

1.03 - To Layman Ishii, #Beating the Cloth Drum Letters of Zen Master Hakuin, #unset, #Kabbalah
  Precious Mirror Cave (244). f Hakuin loosely paraphrases a statement in the Comprehensive Records of Yun-men (Yun-men kuang-lu). An early Chinese commentary on this apprises us of the fact that warm excrement produced during the summer months has an especially foul smell. g The Dragon Gate is a three-tiered waterfall cut through the mountains of Lung-men to open up a passage for the Yellow River. It was said that on the third day of the third month, when peach trees are in flower, carp that succeeded in scaling this waterfall turned into dragons. h Compendium of the Five Lamps, ch. 1. Also Case 41 in the Gateless Barrier. i Compendium of the Five Lamps, ch. 3. j Based on lines in a verse by Yuan-wu K'o-ch'in: "I venerate the Sixth Patriarch, an au thentic old
  Buddha who manifested himself in the human world as a good teacher for eighty lifetimes in order to help others" (cited in Trei's Snake Legs for Kaien-fusetsu, 21v). k The head monk in Huang-po's assembly at this time is not identified in the standard accounts of this episode in Record of Lin-chi and Records of the Lamp. He is given as Chen Tsun-su (Mu-chou Taotsung, n.d.) in some other accounts. In none of the versions does he utter such words directly to Linchi. l A winged tiger would be even more formidable. m In the Record of Lin-chi account (also Blue Cliff Record, Case 11), the head monk in Huang-po's assembly tells Lin-chi to ask Huang-po about the essential meaning of the Buddha Dharma. He goes to
  Huang-po three times, each time receiving blows, and he decides to leave the temple. The head monk tells Huang-po, "That young fellow who's been coming to you [Lin-chi] is a real Dharma vessel. If he comes and tells you he's going to leave, please use your expedient means in dealing with him. I'm sure that if he can continue to bore his way through, he will become a great tree that will provide cool shade to all the world." Huang-po suggests to Lin-chi that he might visit Ta-yu. At Ta-yu's temple,
  Lin-chi explained why he had left Huang-po, adding that he wasn't sure whether he was at fault or not. Ta-yu said, "Huang-po spared no effort. He treated you with utmost tenderness and grandmo therly kindness. Why do you talk about fault and no fault?" Lin-chi suddenly experienced enlightenment, and said, "There's not much to Huang-po's Dharma." Lin-chi returned to Huang-po and related what had happened at Ta-yu's place. Huang-po said, "I'd like to get hold of that fellow and give him a good dose of my stick!" n "One day Hsuan-sha took up a traveling pouch and left his temple to complete his training by visiting others teachers around the country. On the way down the mountain, he struck his toe hard on a rock. Blood appeared, but amid the intense pain he had an abrupt self-realization. 'This body does not exist. Where is the pain coming from?' he said, and promptly returned to Hsueh-feng" (Essentials of
  Successive Records of the Lamp, ch. 23). o This generally follows the account in Compendium of the Five Lamps, ch. 9. p Tao-wu Yuan-chih (769-835) and his student Chien-yuan went to pay their respects to someone who had passed away. Chien-yuan rapped on the coffin and said, "Living or dead?" Tao-wu replied,
  "I won't say living. I won't say dead." "Why won't you say?" asked Chien-yuan. "I won't say,"
  --
  
   replied Tao-wu. On their way back to the temple, Chien-yuan said, "If you don't say it right this minute, I'm going to hit you." "Hit me if you like," said Tao-wu. "I won't say living, I won't say dead." Chien-yuan hit him. When they were back at the temple, Tao-wu told Chien-yuan that the temple supervisor would give him a beating if he found out what he had done, and suggested that he go away for a while. Chien-yuan left and studied under Master Shih-shuang, attaining a realization upon hearing him repeat the words, "I won't say, I won't say" (Records of the Lamp, ch. 15. Also
  Blue Cliff Record, Case 55). q These are some of the eighteen types of questions Zen students are said to ask their teachers. This is a formulation by Fen-yang (947-1024) in The Eye of Men and Gods. r Free up the cicada's wings . Although a similar expression is used in the Book of Latter Han to describe a lord showing great partiality to a favorite, here it refers to the statement made earlier about a teacher ruining a student's chances by stepping in to help the student prematurely. s Two of eight difficult places or situations (hachinan) in which it is difficult for people to encounter a Buddha, hear him preach the Dharma, and attain liberation: Uttarakuru, the continent to the north of
  Mount Sumeru, because inhabitants enjoy lives of interminable pleasure; and being enthralled in the worldly wisdom and skillful words (sechibens) of secular life. Dried buds and dead seeds (shge haishu) is a term of reproach directed at followers of the Two Vehicles, who are said to have no possibility for attaining complete enlightenment. t In the system of koan study that developed in later Hakuin Zen, hosshin or Dharmakaya koans are used in the beginning stages of practice (see Zen Dust, 46-50). The lines Hakuin quotes here are not found in the Poems of Han-shan (Han-shan shih). They are attri buted to Han-shan in Compendium of the Five Lamps (ch. 15, chapter on Tung-shan Mu-ts'ung): "The master ascended the teaching seat and said, 'Han-shan said that "Red dust dances at the bottom of the well. / White waves rise on the mountain peaks. / The stone woman gives birth to a stone child. / Fur on the tortoise grows longer by the day." If you want to know the Bodhi-mind, all you have to do is to behold these sights.'" The lines are included in a Japanese edition of the work published during Hakuin's lifetime. u The Ten Ox-herding Pictures are a series of illustrations, accompanied by verses, showing the Zen student's progress to final enlightenment. The Five Ranks, comprising five modes of the particular and universal, are a teaching device formulated by Tung-shan of the Sto tradition. v Records of the Lamp, ch. 10. w Liu Hsiu (first century) was a descendant of Western Han royalty who defeated the usurper Wang
  Mang and established the Eastern Han dynasty. Emperor Su Tsung (eighth century) regained the throne that his father had occupied before being been driven from power. x Wang Mang (c. 45 BC-23 AD) , a powerful official of the Western Han dynasty, and rebellious
  --
  NOTES TO CHAPTER 3
  1. The following story appears in Records of the Lamp: "Asked by a monk, 'How should a monk comport himself throughout the twenty-four hours?' Ts'ao-shan replied, 'As if passing through a region filled with poisonous insects (ku), not letting a single drop of water pass his lips.'"
  Understanding of this dialogue requires an explanation of the meanings attached to the word ku
  --
  
  At the words, Hsuan-tse attained great enlightenment (Records of the Lamp, ch. 17).
  

1.04 - The Origin and Development of Poetry., #Poetics, #Aristotle, #Christianity
  
  As, in the serious style, Homer is pre-eminent among poets, for he alone combined dramatic form with excellence of imitation, so he too first laid down the main lines of Comedy, by dramatising the ludicrous instead of writing personal satire. His Margites bears the same relation to Comedy that the Iliad and Odyssey do to Tragedy. But when Tragedy and Comedy came to light, the two classes of poets still followed their natural bent: the Lampooners became writers of Comedy, and the Epic poets were succeeded by Tragedians, since the drama was a larger and higher form of art.
  

1.04 - The Paths, #A Garden of Pomegranates - An Outline of the Qabalah, #Israel Regardie, #Occultism
   youth setting forth upon his adventures after receiving the
  Wand - or attaining puberty. The magical weapons are the Wand, in which the Freudian significance is clearly perceptible, the Lamp, and the Eucharistic Host. The significance of the Hand of God or the Dhyan-Chohanic consciousness, setting the world-forces in motion, may also be read into this letter Yod.
  

1.05 - On painstaking and true repentance which constitute the life of the holy convicts; and about the prison., #The Ladder of Divine Ascent, #Saint John of Climacus, #unset
  
  with works of penance, if only there is in it a remnant of a spark of love or fear of the Lord. Such, in truth, were these blessed men. For keeping these things in mind, and considering the height of virtue from which they had fallen, they would say: We remember the days of old1 and that fire of our zeal. Some would cry to God: Where are Thine ancient mercies, O Lord, such as Thou didst reveal to our soul in Thy truth? Remember the reproach and hardships of Thy servants.2 And another would say: O that I were reinstated as in times past, in the days of the months when God watched over me, when the Lamp of His light shone over the head of my heart!3
  

1.070 - The Seven Stages of Perfection, #The Study and Practice of Yoga, #Swami Krishnananda, #Yoga
  
  This body is the house. This individuality is the vehicle that has been manufactured by these tendencies to object-perception, and they themselves form the substance of this body-mind complex. And, the presence of this vehicle is simultaneous with the attachment of consciousness to that vehicle; this is the bondage of the soul. Thus, it is hard for one to attain salvation, because it is the abolition of individuality itself a total extinction of personality that is known as nirvana, the complete vanishing from sight of the very possibility of objectivity. The blowing out of a lamp is what is actually meant by nirvana. the Lamp of world-consciousness the light with which we see objects is blown out completely, and there is the return of the spirit to its own pristine purity and status.
  

1.07 - TRUTH, #The Perennial Philosophy, #Aldous Huxley, #Philosophy
  
  With the Lamp of word and discrimination one must go beyond word and discrimination and enter upon the path of realization.
  
  --
  
  Non-rational creatures do not look before or after, but live in the animal eternity of a perpetual present; instinct is their animal grace and constant inspiration; and they are never tempted to live otherwise than in accord with their own animal dharma, or immanent law. Thanks to his reasoning powers and to the instrument of reason, language, man (in his merely human condition) lives nostalgically, apprehensively and hopefully in the past and future as well as in the present; has no instincts to tell him what to do; must rely on personal cleverness, rather than on inspiration from the divine Nature of Things; finds himself in a condition of chronic civil war between passion and prudence and, on a higher level of awareness and ethical sensibility, between egotism and dawning spirituality. But this wearisome condition of humanity is the indispensable prerequisite of enlightenment and deliverance. Man must live in time in order to be able to advance into eternity, no longer on the animal, but on the spiritual level; he must be conscious of himself as a separate ego in order to be able consciously to transcend separate selfhood; he must do battle with the lower self in order that he may become identified with that higher Self within him, which is akin to the divine Not-Self; and finally he must make use of his cleverness in order to pass beyond cleverness to the intellectual vision of Truth, the immediate, unitive knowledge of the divine Ground. Reason and its works are not and cannot be a proximate means of union with God. The proximate means is intellect, in the scholastic sense of the word, or spirit. In the last analysis the use and purpose of reason is to create the internal and external conditions favour able to its own transfiguration by and into spirit. It is the Lamp by which it finds the way to go beyond itself. We see, then, that as a means to a proximate means to an End, discursive reasoning is of enormous value. But if, in our pride and madness, we treat it as a proximate means to the divine End (as so many religious people have done and still do), or if, denying the existence of an eternal End, we regard it as at once the means to Progress and its ever-receding goal in time, cleverness becomes the enemy, a source of spiritual blindness, moral evil and social disaster. At no period in history has cleverness been so highly valued or, in certain directions, so widely and efficiently trained as at the present time. And at no time have intellectual vision and spirituality been less esteemed, or the End to which they are proximate means less widely and less earnestly sought for. Because technology advances, we fancy that we are making corresponding progress all along the line; because we have considerable power over inanimate nature, we are convinced that we are the self-sufficient masters of our fate and captains of our souls; and because cleverness has given us technology and power, we believe, in spite of all the evidence to the contrary, that we have only to go on being yet cleverer in a yet more systematic way to achieve social order, international peace and personal happiness.
  

1.08a - The Ladder, #A Garden of Pomegranates - An Outline of the Qabalah, #Israel Regardie, #Occultism
  (Ain) with which he affirms his identity, and he affirms, moreover, that he limits himself to the attainment of a certain goal, that of the attainment of his Angel, and that he no longer wanders without aim in the world of matter and illusion and impermanence. This circle is protected by various divine names, the influences upon which he relies to guard him from the vicious demons without, the hostile thoughts of his OAvn empirical ego, which is to be exorcised and transcended. Within this figure stands the foundation of all his work, an Altar, the symbol of his fixed Will.
  Everything is kept in the Altar cupboard, since everything is subject to law ; except the Lamp hanging above his head, the Light of his Real Self, illuminating everything below.
  

1.09 - (Plot continued.) Dramatic Unity., #Poetics, #Aristotle, #Christianity
  It is, moreover, evident from what has been said, that it is not the function of the poet to relate what has happened, but what may happen,--what is possible according to the law of probability or necessity. The poet and the historian differ not by writing in verse or in prose. The work of Herodotus might be put into verse, and it would still be a species of history, with metre no less than without it. The true difference is that one relates what has happened, the other what may happen. Poetry, therefore, is a more philosophical and a higher thing than history: for poetry tends to express the universal, history the particular. By the universal, I mean how a person of a certain type will on occasion speak or act, according to the law of probability or necessity; and it is this universality at which poetry aims in the names she attaches to the personages. The particular is--for example--what
  Alcibiades did or suffered. In Comedy this is already apparent: for here the poet first constructs the plot on the lines of probability, and then inserts characteristic names;--unlike the Lampooners who write about particular individuals. But tragedians still keep to real names, the reason being that what is possible is credible: what has not happened we do not at once feel sure to be possible: but what has happened is manifestly possible: otherwise it would not have happened. Still there are even some tragedies in which there are only one or two well known names, the rest being fictitious. In others, none are well known, as in
  Agathon's Antheus, where incidents and names alike are fictitious, and yet they give none the less pleasure. We must not, therefore, at all costs keep to the received legends, which are the usual subjects of

1.09 - The Guardian of the Threshold, #Knowledge of the Higher Worlds, #Rudolf Steiner, #Occultism
   p. 243
   of the life now confronting him. For everything inculcated by education completely melts away when the threads binding will, thought, and feeling are severed. He looks back on the result of all his previous education as he might on a house crumbling away brick by brick, which he must now rebuild in a new form. And again, it is more than a mere symbolical expression to say that when the Guardian has enunciated his first statement, there arises from the spot where he stands a whirlwind which extinguishes all those spiritual lights that have hitherto illumined the pathway of his life. Utter darkness, relieved only by the rays issuing from the Guardian himself, unfolds before the student. And out of this darkness resounds the Guardian's further admonition: "Step not across my Threshold until thou dost clearly realize that thou wilt thyself illumine the darkness ahead of thee; take not a single step forward until thou art positive that thou hast sufficient oil in thine own lamp. the Lamps of the guides whom thou hast hitherto followed will now no longer be available to thee." At these words, the student must turn and glance backward. The Guardian of the Threshold now draws aside a veil which till now had concealed deep life-mysteries. The family, national,
   p. 244

11.01 - The Opening Scene of Savitri, #Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 04, #Nolini Kanta Gupta, #Integral Yoga
  
   "It was the hour before the Gods awake". Only when the Gods awake, does the light begin to appear on earth. Otherwise it is all night here, black, impenetrable and unfathomable. Indeed the very creation begins with the awakening of the Gods. When the Gods are asleep, it is the non-existencetamast tamas ghamagre'in the beginning darkness was engulfed in darkness'. This is the asat, non-being, this is the acit, the inconscience, this is the blackest night. The Bible also speaks of a similar darknessJob's terrible vision: "A land of darkness, as darkness itself; and of the shadow of death, without any order and where the light is as darkness."1 the Lamp of consciousness is not yet lit. The dark vacancy stretches across the path of creation yet to be, the light that is to come. This shadow is the negation of the light behind, it is the original of the creation. It is presented as the mere material universe apparently dead and dry, the utter inconscience with no sign of consciousness anywhere. And earth seems to be there part of it, a shadow within the shadow, a dark spot wheeling in a dark mass.
  

1.19 - The Practice of Magical Evocation, #The Practice of Magical Evocation, #Franz Bardon, #Occultism
  Before starting the evocation the magician takes a bath or at least cleans his whole body, for one should not evoke a being in an unclean state, especially if a high and good intelligence is to be evoked. An evocation not only requires a clean spirit and a clean soul, it also requires a clean body. If it is not possible to ba the or to wash the whole body, the magician must at least carefully wash his hands. Everybody is able to do this, and therefore it must never be forgotten. When washing the magician has to concentrate on the idea that all unfavourable physical and psychic influences run off with the water. Prepared in this manner, the magician takes his magical implements, one after the other, from their depository and puts them on a clean, preferably new, piece of cloth which has been kept in the depository especially for this purpose and which is to protect the implements from dust. Let us assume that the evocation of Hagiel is carried out in a normal living-room. See that during the whole evocation you are not disturbed by anything, and, in order to evade any glances of curiosity, cover the windows carefully with a curtain. Then go and change your clothes, i. e. put on your magic garments: first your silk stockings - in cold weather your silk underwear - and houseshoes. The evocation already starts with the act of dressing; for you must concentrate on the thoughts which are to do with the evocation only. So bear in mind that by putting on the clothes you are insulated against all unfavourable influences that may come from the universe or the invisible world. When dressing, you must be entirely sure that your body is not being influenced by any being, whether good or evil. Then, after having dressed, this meditative attitude of being completely insulated and protected must be maintained. Then put round your waist your magic belt and be completely taken up by the thought that you are the sovereign over all elements, the master of all powers.
  Finally you put round your head your magus-band or put on the magic headgear with a feeling of true relationship to God, and that not you as a magician, but that God is actually carrying through the whole operation. You must unite yourself with the divine principle inside you in such a way that you have the feeling that you are the deity itself. Having done all this, you are able to go a further step in your operation. You light the magic lamp, which, in our case, must fill the room with a lightgreen light. Set the magic lamp in a place round which you will be able to draw the magic circle or hang it up in the centre of the room. This does not mean that the Lamp must be exactly in the centre of the room though it would have the advantage that the whole room gets an equal light. Your next task will be the setting up and impregnation of the magic mirror, if you like, of two magic mirrors. In this example instructions are given for the use of two mirrors. One mirror is to bring about the materialization of Hagiel in the physical world, the other is to keep off unwanted influences. Being conscious of the fact that not you, but the deity is carrying out the procedure, you create, by the help of the imagination, a great sea of light in a wonderful emerald colour, which, also by imagination, you accumulate from the whole universe into the mirror in a manner that the whole surface of the mirror is taken up by this colour. The power of illumination of the condensed green light must be so strong as to illuminate completely the room in which you work. At that moment you must have the imaginative impression that this accumulated light is actually a power matrix, a fluid, which can almost be seen by the physical eye. In any case you must have the permanent impression that you are moving about in the room in an oscillation of green light. This is the way to prepare, magically, the room for the being to be evoked, and in a room like this there will be no more obstacles for the being and it will feel the atmosphere of its own sphere. Already at the moment you accumulate the light you concentrate on the idea that the purpose of this accumulation is to condense the evoked spirit being in a manner that you can see it with your physical eyes and hear it with your physical ears. The stronger your imagination, belief, will and conviction, the better condensed and truer Hagiel will appear to you. When impregnating the room, do not forget to include that you wish the accumulated planetary light-power to remain in the mirror and in the room until you dissolve it again by force of your imagination.
  Similar examples are given in "Initiation into Hermetics" in the chapter dealing with room-impregnation and here you find the evidence that all the exercises and magic operations of that first work have their special purpose. You will also see that when carrying out further magical operations you will not be able to do without any of these practices. If you have not actively gone through the exercises of the first book you are unable to get into conscious contact with any spirit being outside you, or of materialising such a being.
  --
  The magician may also symbolise the elements in the circle, in which case he only needs 4 lamps. He himself stands in the middle of the circle as the fifth element, as the representative of the
  Akasha-principle. When setting up the Lamps, the magician takes into consideration the four cardinal points and places a lamp in the East, West, South and North side of the circle. It is entirely left to the magician either to express by the Lamps the planetary number or to symbolise the elements.
  Of course, it is also possible for him to draw three circles. In the middle circle he puts four lamps, as the symbol of the elements, into the external circles he places the number of lamps analogous to the symbolic number of the planet from which the being is to be called. Naturally, the setting up of lamps will complicate the preparations for the evocation but the person able to provide himself with such lamps should not desist from using this aid, for the more aids to support his consciousness he has at the beginning, the better will he succeed.
  --
  If you have reached an agreement with Hagiel on everything and if Hagiel has promised to fulfil your wishes, you can be sure that she will really keep her promise. All that now remains for you to do is to send this intelligence off again. You offer your thanks quite individually, for instance, by expressing your pleasure in the fact that Hagiel wholly acknowledges you as a genuine magician and is obedient to you, and then you ask the intelligence to return to her own sphere. With your allconsciousness you place yourself into the Venus sphere and concentrate by means of the imagination that Hagiel is returning from the partial sphere of your room to her domicil. After having done this meditative step you return as a magician from your allconsciousness to your normal consciousness, thereby bringing the evocation to an end. Staying in the room in which you have carried out the evocation you will find yourself, for a while after
  Hagiel's departure, in a state of happiness, a feeling of bliss will pervade you, and, as if dominated by true happiness, you will find yourself in a state of exaltation. If you please, you may remain in the room within the magic circle for some time and reconstruct the whole experience with Hagiel once more in your mind so that you will remember well every part of it when you completely finish your evocation. By help of imagination you dissolve the accumulated light into the universe, take the sign out of the triangle and put it away in safe keeping. You can leave the circle without any danger, put out the Lamps, etc. All magical instruments and aids are returned to their repository. If Hagiel has informed you of any special knowledge which you should not put down in writing, but merely keep well in your head, the knowledge being intended for you alone, then you must comply with such a wish. Otherwise you enter the procedure of the whole evocation into your diary to enable you to keep a good control over your workings and to have a reference book for them. You can follow the same procedure as with Hagiel in respect of any other being from any other sphere. By and by you will also become a perfect master in this respect and your personal experience will grow immensely.
  The description of the practice of a magical evocation is herewith completed.

1.21 - Chih Men's Lotus Flower, Lotus Leaves, #The Blue Cliff Records, #Yuanwu Keqin, #Zen
  have not yet emerged from the water?" I would just answer
  him by saying, "The pillar and the Lamp."c Tell me, is this the
  same as the lotus flowers or different? If I were asked, "What
  --
  
  "The pillar and the Lamp": Physical reality, the world of objects,
  such as the pillar and the Lamp that would have been present in
  the Dharma Halls right in front of the eyes of Yuan Wu's listen

1.23 - Improvising a Temple, #Magick Without Tears, #Aleister Crowley, #Occultism
  
  I was often reduced to such expedients when wandering in strange lands, camping on glaciers, and so on. I fixed it workably well. In Mexico, D.F. for instance, I took my bedroom itself for the Circle, my night-table for the Altar, my candle for the Lamp; and I made the Weapons compact. I had a Wand eight inches long, all precious stones and enamel, to represent the Tree of Life; within, an iron tube containing quicksilver very correct, lordly, and damsilly. What a club! Also, bought, a silver-gilt Cup; for Air and Earth I made one sachet of rose-petals in yellow silk, and another in green silk packed with salt. In the wilds it was easy, agreeable and most efficacious to make a Circle, and build an altar, of stones; my Alpine Lantern served admirably for the Lamp. It did double duty when required: e.g. in partaking of the Sacrament of the Four Elements, it served for Fire. But your conditions are not so restricted as this.
  
  --
  
  Next, the Lamp. This may be of silver, or silver-gilt, (to represent the Path of Gimel) and is to be hung from the ceiling exactly above the centre of the altar. There are plenty of old church lamps which serve very well. The light is to be from a wick in a floating cork in a glass of olive oil. (I hope you can get it!) It is really desirable to make this as near the "Ever-burning Lamp of the Rosicrucians" as possible; it is not a drawback that this implies frequent attention.
  

1.3.4.02 - The Hour of God, #Essays Divine And Human, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  The Hour of God
  There are moments when the Spirit moves among men and the breath of the Lord is abroad upon the waters of our being; there are others when it retires and men are left to act in the strength or the weakness of their own egoism. The first are periods when even a little effort produces great results and changes destiny; the second are spaces of time when much labour goes to the making of a little result. It is true that the latter may prepare the former, may be the little smoke of sacrifice going up to heaven which calls down the rain of God's bounty. Unhappy is the man or the nation which, when the divine moment arrives, is found sleeping or unprepared to use it, because the Lamp has not been kept trimmed for the welcome and the ears are sealed to the call. But thrice woe to them who are strong and ready, yet waste the force or misuse the moment; for them is irreparable loss or a great destruction.
  

1.39 - The Ritual of Osiris, #The Golden Bough, #unset, #Kabbalah
  festival was the nocturnal illumination. People fastened rows of
  oil-lamps to the outside of their houses, and the Lamps burned all
  night long. The custom was not confined to Sais, but was observed

1.57 - Public Scapegoats, #The Golden Bough, #unset, #Kabbalah
  the substitute might die in his stead. Thus through the mist of ages
  unillumined by the Lamp of history, the tragic figure of the pope of
  Buddhism--God's vicar on earth for Asia--looms dim and sad as the

1914 11 08p, #Prayers And Meditations, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
  
   All is mute in the being as in a desert crypt; but in the heart of the shadow, in the bosom of the silence burns the Lamp that can never be extinguished, the fire of an ardent aspiration to know Thee and totally to live Thee.
  

1953-11-11, #Questions And Answers 1953, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
  
   Yes, all human qualities are deformations of a truth which is behind them. All that you call either qualities or defects are always a deformation of something which is behind, and which is neither this nor that but something else. But I say, moreover, what truth is found behind generosity: it is the movement of the spreading forces. But in order that these forces may spread, they must first become concentrated. So there is a sort of movement of pulsation: the forces are concentrated, then they spread, and then they are again concentrated and again spread. But if you always want to spread out without ever concentrating, after a certain time you have nothing left to spread. For the forcesall forcesit is the same thing. I have written, besides, (or rather I shall write some time) that money is a force, it is nothing but that. And that is why nobody has the right to own it personally, for it is only a force, just like all other forces of Nature and the universe. If you take light as a force, it would never occur to anyone to say: I possess the light, and to want to shut it up in his room and not give it to others! Well, with money people are so stupefied as to imagine that it is something they can possess and keep, as though it belonged to them, and make something personal of it. It is exactly the same thing. I am not speaking of money as paper, naturally, because that would be just like the light you put in a lamp, you may own the Lamp, and so you say: It is my light. Money, your notes, your pieces, of silver, that is your money. But that is not money. This is a force which is behind all that, the power of exchange which is money. That does not belong to anybody. It belongs to everyone. It is something which is alive only if it circulates. If you want to heap it up, it decays. It is as though you wanted to enclose water in a vase and keep it always; after some time your water would be absolutely putrefied. With money it is the same thing. And people have not yet understood that. Later on I shall write about it.
  

1958-04-02 - Correcting a mistake, #Questions And Answers 1957-1958, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
  
  In the case of ignorance which is to be enlightened, it is enough, as I said, to light the Lamp. In the case of conscious relapse, what is necessary is a cauterisation.
  ***

1958-11-04 - Myths are True and Gods exist - mental formation and occult faculties - exteriorization - work in dreams, #Agenda Vol 01, #unset, #Kabbalah
  
   It was only a film story, but anyway, the goddesses, the three wives of the Trimurti that is, the consort of Brahma, the consort of Vishnu and the consort of Shivajoined forces (!) and tried all kinds of things to foil Narada. I no longer recall the details of the story Oh yes, the story begins like this: one of the three I believe it was Shivas consort, Parvati (she was the worst one, by the way!)was doing her puja. Shiva was in meditation, and she began doing her puja in front of him; she was using an oil lamp for the puja, and the Lamp fell down and burned her foot. She cried out because she had burned her foot. So Shiva at once came out of his meditation and said to her, What is it, Devi? (laughter) She answered, I burned my foot! Then Narada said, Arent you ashamed of what you have done?to make Shiva come out of his meditation simply because you have a little burn on your foot, which cannot even hurt you since you are immortal! She became furious and snapped at him, Show me that it can be otherwise! Narada replied, I am going to show you what it is to really love ones husbandyou dont know anything about it!
  

1968-02-07, #Agenda Vol 09, #unset, #Kabbalah
  
   I had another example, a very amusing one. You know that I keep hibiscus flowers there, under the Lamp; I had kept two flowers, Supramental Consciousness, and another, pale pink, Supramental Beauty, there, under the Lamp. Then someone sent me a Power, a hibiscus this big, all white, with a dark red centera marvel! Big as this. I put it there; the other flower (it was lasting very well, it had lasted the whole morning), it instantly dropped down, furiousit didnt drop, it threw itself to the ground, like that!
  

1970 03 03, #On Thoughts And Aphorisms, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
  
   368The Law is for the bound and those whose eyes are sealed; if they walk not by it, they will stumble; but thou who art free in Krishna or hast seen his living light, walk holding the hand of thy Friend and by the Lamp of eternal Veda.
  

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IN WEBGEN [10000/28]

Wikipedia - Oil for the Lamps of China (film) -- 1935 film by Mervyn LeRoy
Wikipedia - Oil for the Lamps of China -- Book by Alice Tisdale Hobart
Wikipedia - Secrets of the Lamp
Wikipedia - The Lamplighter (film) -- 1921 silent film
Wikipedia - The Lampshade -- 2010 nonfiction book
Wikipedia - Transmission of the Lamp
https://myanimelist.net/manga/130806/Doctor_Elise__The_Royal_Lady_with_the_Lamp
https://characters.fandom.com/wiki/Luxo_The_Lamp
https://elderscrolls.fandom.com/wiki/Order_of_the_Lamp
https://forgottenrealms.fandom.com/wiki/Secrets_of_the_Lamp
https://non-aliencreatures.fandom.com/wiki/Jinni_of_the_Lamp
https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/One_Last_Night_in_the_Mos_Eisley_Cantina:_The_Tale_of_the_Wolfman_and_the_Lamproid
https://tardis.fandom.com/wiki/Pride_of_the_Lampian_(audio_story)
https://tardis.fandom.com/wiki/The_Lampblack_Wars_(short_story)
https://the-boys.fandom.com/wiki/The_Lamplighter
Children of the Lamp
Oil for the Lamps of China
The Doors of His Face, The Lamps of His Mouth, and Other Stories
The Genie of the Lamp
The Jingde Record of the Transmission of the Lamp
The Lamp
The Lamp (2011 film)
The Lamp from the Warlock's Tomb
The Lampies
The Lamp in Assassin Mews
The Lamp of God
The lamps are going out
The Lampshade


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