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.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
There's something about the darkness that I find unavoidably intoxicating. The knowledge that other people are sleeping and, therefore, unavailable to ruin my solitude, makes me more peaceful than I am during the day.
There are nights when you are lucky enough to tap into something about yourself that you are unaware of and can't possibly control, and somehow, at that moment, other people can view it or sense it or feel it.
I think books that are meant to be read in the nighttime ought to confront the very fears that we're trying to think about.
I need quiet and solitude to work. Darkness is best. If I am wide awake, I can't write.
When we're awake, cortisol can fragment memories - one reason eyewitness crime scene accounts are so unreliable. But at night that very fragmentation allows creative recombinations of ideas.
I can't write at night. For me, I'm programmed to believe that nighttime is for relaxation.
In Los Angeles you get the sense sometimes that there's a mysterious patrol at night: when the streets are empty and everyone's asleep, they go erasing the past. It's like a bad Ray Bradbury story - 'The Memory Erasers'.
Sometimes there is no darker place than our thoughts, the moonless midnight of the mind.
When I am traveling in a carriage, or walking after a good meal, or during the night when I cannot sleep; it is on such occasions that ideas flow best and most abundantly.
Night is the mother of thoughts.