“I was so sick last night I
Didn't hardly know my mind.
So sick last night I
Didn't know my mind.
I drunk some bad licker that
Almost made me blind.”

“I believe in whatever gets you throught the night. […] Night is the hardest time to be alive. For me, anyway. It lasts so long, and four A. M. knows all my secrets.”

Poppy Z. Brite (1967) Novelist, short story writer, food writer

“Late last night and the night before, tommyknockers, tommyknockers knocking on my door. I wanna go out, don't know if I can 'cuz I'm so afraid of the tommyknocker man.”

Stephen King The Tommyknockers

“I didn't know that the world could be so mind-blowingly beautiful.”

Justina Chen (1968) American writer

“If I didn't know the ending of a story, I wouldn't begin. I always write my last lines, my last paragraph first, and then I go back and work towards it. I know where I'm going. I know what my goal is. And how I get there is God's grace.”

Katherine Anne Porter (1890–1980) American journalist, essayist, short story writer, novelist, and political activist

“Your honor, it is over now. This has never been a case of trying to get free. I didn't ever want freedom. Frankly, I wanted death for myself. This was a case to tell the world that I did what I did not for reasons of hate, I hated no one. I know I was sick or evil, or both. Now I believe I was sick. The doctors have told me about my sickness and now I have some peace.”

Jeffrey Dahmer (1960–1994) American serial killer, cannibal and necrophile

“Yeah and it's over before you know it.
It all goes by so fast.
Yeah, the bad nights last forever,
And the good nights don't ever seem to last”

Tom Petty (1950–2017) American musician

“So you interrupted my date to make fun of me for still living with my parents. Couldn't you have done that on a night I didn't have a date? That's most nights, in case you're curious.”

Cassandra Clare book City of Fallen Angels

“Too bad, I'm no poet,
I happen to know it, But anyway
Here's a roundelay
I wrote last night about you…”

Cole Porter (1891–1964) American composer and songwriter

“We heard the shots in the night
But nobody knew next day what the trouble was
And a man must go to his work.
So I didn't see him
For three days, then, and me near out of my mind
And all the patrols on the streets with their dirty guns
And when he came back, he looked drunk, and the blood was on him.”

Stephen Vincent Benét (1898–1943) poet, short story writer, novelist