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“It’s hard to trust the world like that, to show it your belly. There’s something deep within me, something intensely fragile, that is terrified of turning itself to the world.

I think I’m just scared that if I show the world my belly, it will devour me. And so I wear the armor of cynicism, and hide behind the great walls of irony, and only glimpse beauty with my back turned to it, through the Claude glass.

But I want to be earnest, even if it’s embarrassing. The photographer Alec Soth has said, “To me, the most beautiful thing is vulnerability.� I would go a step further and argue that you cannot see the beauty which is enough unless you make yourself vulnerable to it.

And so I try to turn toward that scattered light, belly out, and I tell myself: This doesn’t look like a picture. And it doesn’t look like a god. It is a sunset, and it is beautiful, and this whole thing you’ve been doing where nothing gets five stars because nothing is perfect? That’s bullshit. So much is perfect. Starting with this. I give sunsets five stars.”
― John Green, The Anthropocene Reviewed: Essays on a Human-Centered Planet

“They drove south with the night falling soft and blue around them. Away to their right the Front Range stood out against the last red ribbon of the dying day like ramparts of some dread empire. Through the open windows came the smell of cooling earth and sage long baked by the sun.”
― Nicholas Evans, The Smoke Jumper

“Seek out the things on the edge, the things in balance. There's a reason why we see beauty in the sunrise and the sunset, in the change of the seasons, and where the land meets the sea.”
― Kevin A. Kuhn, Do You Realize?

“Now let me tell you something.

I have seen a thousand sunsets and sunrises, on land where it floods forest and mountains with honey coloured light, at sea where it rises and sets like a blood orange in a multicoloured nest of cloud, slipping in and out of the vast ocean. I have seen a thousand moons: harvest moons like gold coins, winter moons as white as ice chips, new moons like baby swans� feathers.

I have seen seas as smooth as if painted, coloured like shot silk or blue as a kingfisher or transparent as glass or black and crumpled with foam, moving ponderously and murderously.

I have felt winds straight from the South Pole, bleak and wailing like a lost child; winds as tender and warm as a lover’s breath; winds that carried the astringent smell of salt and the death of seaweeds; winds that carried the moist rich smell of a forest floor, the smell of a million flowers. Fierce winds that churned and moved the sea like yeast, or winds that made the waters lap at the shore like a kitten.

I have known silence: the cold, earthy silence at the bottom of a newly dug well; the implacable stony silence of a deep cave; the hot, drugged midday silence when everything is hypnotised and stilled into silence by the eye of the sun; the silence when great music ends.

I have heard summer cicadas cry so that the sound seems stitched into your bones. I have heard tree frogs in an orchestration as complicated as Bach singing in a forest lit by a million emerald fireflies. I have heard the Keas calling over grey glaciers that groaned to themselves like old people as they inched their way to the sea. I have heard the hoarse street vendor cries of the mating Fur seals as they sang to their sleek golden wives, the crisp staccato admonishment of the Rattlesnake, the cobweb squeak of the Bat and the belling roar of the Red deer knee-deep in purple heather. I have heard Wolves baying at a winter’s moon, Red howlers making the forest vibrate with their roaring cries. I have heard the squeak, purr and grunt of a hundred multi-coloured reef fishes.

I have seen hummingbirds flashing like opals round a tree of scarlet blooms, humming like a top. I have seen flying fish, skittering like quicksilver across the blue waves, drawing silver lines on the surface with their tails. I have seen Spoonbills flying home to roost like a scarlet banner across the sky. I have seen Whales, black as tar, cushioned on a cornflower blue sea, creating a Versailles of fountain with their breath. I have watched butterflies emerge and sit, trembling, while the sun irons their wings smooth. I have watched Tigers, like flames, mating in the long grass. I have been dive-bombed by an angry Raven, black and glossy as the Devil’s hoof. I have lain in water warm as milk, soft as silk, while around me played a host of Dolphins. I have met a thousand animals and seen a thousand wonderful things.

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All this I did without you. This was my loss.

All this I want to do with you. This will be my gain.

All this I would gladly have forgone for the sake of one minute of your company, for your laugh, your voice, your eyes, hair, lips, body, and above all for your sweet, ever-surprising mind which is an enchanting quarry in which it is my privilege to delve.”
― Gerald Durrell

“Life is tough but so are you. A little salt for a sunset, is the virtue.”
― B.K. Sweeting

“A sunset is only half of the story.”
― Craig D. Lounsbrough

“I am made up of light and shadows. I am both mother & inner child. Healing and evolving. I run with the wolves and dive deep with salty sea queens. I am captivated by fiery skies and phases of the moon. I am her and she is me. Together we are wise, wild and free.”
― ¸éí´Ç²Ô²¹³¦³ó

“Just as, in travel, one may miss seeing the sunset because one cannot find the ticket-office or is afraid of missing the train, so in even the closest human relationships a vast amount of time and of affection is drained away in minor misunderstandings, missed opportunities, and failures in consideration or understanding.”
― Iris Origo

“As the day drains
out the window, I become more and more
the focus of my own gaze.”
― Emily Pittinos

“It's a good poem, but it only works because cummings situates the observation in childhood, when one is presumably too innocent to have yet realized how lame it is to write about sunsets.”
― John Green, The Anthropocene Reviewed: Essays on a Human-Centered Planet

“It was evening and the sun was just setting giving an amber tint to the fields making them glow with happiness. She was lost in the marvel. The stream flowing just nearby was making the whole scene appear like a paradise.”
― Neelam Saxena Chandra, Can I have this chance

“And when the day closes, I shall know I have done my part.

To every soul, who feels that there's a bunch of dreams left unrealised, remember that as long as the Life remains, the possibility to dream remains. Remember that sometimes some dreams that we paint in our hearts are not meant to grow us in our journey of Life and then while we walk along the path, even the detours and broken dreams pave way to a whole lot of waking dreams that only the heart of gratitude can see and feel. I have seen and felt, that sometimes some souls have to go through a lot of trials and tribulations, lessons and sufferings, and even then they never fail to wear kindness and grace simply because they know that what happens around them should not intrude upon what is inside their heart. To know that we are here for a purpose and to not live idly, to know that the purpose is as simple as to stay kind and open to every possibility is as beautiful as the sky who knows no matter how dark the night is the stars would always lit her face.

In a world where everything comes at a price, if you're choosing to stay kind, if you're choosing to value your dignity and your integrity, if your choosing to understand and embrace the smile of Solitude, if you're choosing to employ your faculties to understand the real questions of Life, then you're alive, much more alive than your human dreams could have made you feel. Because no matter what, when sunset hits the night, and the day comes to a close you know you've done your part, you know you have embraced one more day with gratitude and grace, with a formidable zeal for Life and an invincible spirit of human understanding that stands firm pillared with Hope and Faith. And then no matter how many voices shrill your mind, the echo of your soul would pierce through your heart and enlighten every inch of your mind, body and soul, and you would know how proud the Universe must be to see the faithfulness, the strength and resilience in your soul, the very mould that was shaped in the fire of the Stardust that shines upon the sky, sometimes becoming a beacon to others while sometimes lying beautifully hidden but always there, always alive.

And so each time, I look at the sky with a bunch of stars, I know I am alive, burning with all that Life is made up of. And someday when the day closes for another dawn altogether, I shall know that I have done my part, pretty well.”
― Debatrayee Banerjee

“A late shine is a predicted short time.”
― Ben Jr Grey

“Here in this wild and beautiful spot amid the mountains, the dark woods, the rising mist, the new moon hanging above the silhouettes of the peaks, we waited, in spite of the night chill, until the last sunlight of the spring had ebbed from the sky.”
― Edwin Way Teale, North With the Spring: A Naturalist's Record of a 17,000-Mile Journey With the North American Spring

“I looked back over my shoulder to the valley below. In the light of the setting sun, the falls had gone molten gold. It must have been a trick of the mist or the angle, but it was as if the water had caught fire. The sun sank lower, setting every pool alight, turning the valley in to a crucible.”
― Leigh Bardugo, Ruin and Rising

“The hate of the dark nights will not defeat the love of this sunrise.”
― F.M. Sogamiah

“I have seen from my window
the fiesta of sunset in the distant mountain tops.

Sometimes a piece of sun
burned like a coin in my hand.”
― Pablo Neruda, Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair

“My mother never seemed to listen to much music, but she loved Barbara Streisand, counting The Way We Were and Yentl as two of her favorite films. I remembered how we used to sing the song "Tell Him" together, and skipped through the album until I found it on track four.
"Remember this?"
I laughed, turning up the volume. It's a duet between Babe and Celine Dion, two powerhouse divas joining together for one epic track. Celine plays the role of a young woman afraid to confess her feelings to the man she loves, and Barbara is her confidant, encouraging her to take the plunge.
"I'm scared, so afraid to show I care... Will he think me weak, if I tremble when I speak?" Celine begins.
When I was a kid my mother used to quiver her lower lip for dramatic effect when she sang the word "tremble." We would trade verses in the living room. I was Barbara and she was Celine, the two of us adding interpretive dance and yearning facial expressions to really sell it.
"I've been there, with my heart out in my hand..." I'd join in, a trail of chimes punctuating my entrance. "But what you must understand, you can't let the chance to love him pass you by!" I'd exclaim, prancing from side to side, raising my hand to urge my voice upward, showcasing my exaggerated vocal range.
Then, together, we'd join in triumphantly. "Tell him! Tell him that the sun and moon rise in his eyes! Reach out to him!" And we'd ballroom dance in a circle along the carpet, staring into each other's eyes as we crooned along to the chorus.
My mom let out a soft giggle from the passenger seat and we sang quietly the rest of the way home. Driving out past the clearing just as the sun went down, the scalloped clouds flushed with a deep orange that made it look like magma.”
― Michelle Zauner, Crying in H Mart

“Sunset is a mysterious magician of life; it prepares many surprises all night long for all the creatures of the next morning!”
― Mehmet Murat ildan

“Sometimes the sun sets so beautifully that one wants neither night nor day anymore, but only that magical sunset twilight moment!”
― Mehmet Murat ildan

“Sometimes one gets tired of the light, of seeing the truth; wants to rest in the dark; desires to anchor in the port of dimness and hide in nothingness for a while! And behold, the sunset gives him this opportunity, freeing him from the clutches of truth until dawn!”
― Mehmet Murat ildan

“—Have you ever seen the sunrise here? and as though she'd answered she hadn't, as though she'd answered at all —especially in winter. You'll see it in winter, it's moved south where the river's its widest and it comes up so fast, it's as if it just wanted to prove the day, get it established so it can loiter through the rest of it, spend the first damned half of your life complicating things in that eagerness to take on everything and straighten all of it out and the second half cleaning up the mess you've made of the first, that's what they won't understand. Finally realize you can't leave things better than you found them the best you can do is try not to leave them any worse but they won't forgive you, get toward the end of the day like the sun going down in Key West if you've ever seen that? They're all down there for the sunset, watching it drop like a bucket of blood and clapping and cheering the instant it disappears, cheer you out the door and damned glad to see the last of you.”
― William Gaddis, Carpenter's Gothic

“In the silence of the ticking of the clock's minute hand, I found you. In the echoes of the reverberations of time, I found you. In the tender silence of the long summer night, I found you. In the fragrance of the rose petals, I found you. In the orange of the sunset, I found you. In the blue of the morning sky, I found you. In the echoes of the mountains, I found you. In the green of the valleys, I found you. In the chaos of this world, I found you. In the turbulence of the oceans, I found you. In the shrill cries of the grasshopper at night, I found you. In the gossamer sublimity of the silken cobweb, I found you.”
― Avijeet Das

“And the sunset still stirs in my heart a longing for worlds that I don't know and may never know.”
― Ahmed Salah Al-Mahdi

“You know,â€� I say, “every sunset is a sunrise somewhere else.â€�
“Is that another metaphor?�
I grin. “Yes, but it is also true.”
― Julia Tilson, Coincident

“They sky was streaked with the marks of sundown. A jet trail glowed in the ugliest pink. My eyes felt raw. The Windowpane had twisted time so badly. The day had seemed a minute long but in that minute my life uncoiled.”
― Lynda Barry, Cruddy

“The sun was soft honey and rose colored along the horizon; the old trees were deep black silhouettes against it, with long purple shadows sliding out from their earth-slippered feet.”
― Marti Healy, The Secret Child

“She no longer rubbed shoulders with clouds and heights, sunset and dawn, but with men stinking of goat.”
― Jean Giono, Ennemonde et autres caractères

“Not everything starts with the sunrise, nor does everything end with the sunset!”
― Mehmet Murat ildan

“Do the boys and girls still go to Siever's
For Cider, after school, in late September?
or gather hazel nuts among the thickets
On Aaron Hatfield's farm when the forsts begin?
For many times with the laughing girls and boys
Played I along the road and over the hills
When the sun was low and the air was ool
Stopping to club the walnuts tree
Standing leafless against a flaming west.
Now, the smell of the autumn smoke,
And the dropping acorns,
And the echoes about the vales
Bring reams of life. They hover over me.”
― Edgar Lee Masters, Spoon River Anthology