The cloud shadows of midnight possess their own repose… – Percy Bysshe Shelley

Night is the blotting paper for many sorrows. – Author Unknown

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

It was a night so beautiful that your soul seemed hardly able to bear the prison of the body. – W. Somerset Maugham, The Moon and Sixpence, 1919