I Love The Night

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  “It was a glorious night. The moon had sunk, and left the quiet earth alone with the stars. It seemed as if, in the silence and the hush, while we her children slept, they were talking with her, their sister — conversing of mighty mysteries in voices too vast and deep for childish human ears to catch the sound. They awe us, these strange stars, so cold, so clear. We are as children whose small feet have strayed into some dim-lit temple of the god they have been taught to worship but know not; and, standing where the echoing dome spans the long vista of the shadowy light, glance up, half hoping, half afraid to see some awful vision hovering there. And yet it seems so full of comfort and of strength, the night. In its great presence, our small sorrows creep away, ashamed. The day has been so full of fret and care, and our hearts have been so full of evil and of bitter thoughts, and the world has seemed so hard and wrong to us. Then Night, like some great loving mother, gently lays ...

"The Pressure of the Moment," by Dara Wier

The pressure of the moment can cause someone to kill
  someone or something

The leniency of consideration might treat with more
  kindness

Which is to be desired. Or at least often to be desired.

But if my house is on fire and you notice, I wish you would
  kill

That fire. But if my hair is on fire, while I'm sure
  you'll be enjoying

The spectacle of it, act quickly or don't act at all. But
  if a sudden

Jarring of us all out of existence is eminent, do
  something.

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