I cannot walk through the suburbs in the solitude of the night without thinking that the night pleases us because it suppresses idle details, just as our memory does. – Jorge Luis Borges
Day, like a weary pilgrim, had reached the western gate of heaven, and Evening stooped down to unloose the latchets of his sandal shoon. – Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Hyperion
![[I]t seemed as if the streets were absorbed by the sky, and the ni](/quote/seemed-streets-were-absorbed.jpg "[I]t seemed as if the streets were absorbed by the sky, and the ni")
