A Quote by Alexandre Desplat

I just write from dawn to dusk. — © Alexandre Desplat
I just write from dawn to dusk.
Every moment of this strange and lovely life from dawn to dusk, is a miracle. Somewhere, always a rose is opening its petals to the dawn. Somewhere, always, a flower is fading in the dusk.
Between the dusk of a summer night And the dawn of a summer day, We caught at a mood as it passed in flight, And we bade it stoop and stay. And what with the dawn of night began With the dusk of day was done; For that is the way of woman and man, When a hazard has made them one. Arc upon arc, from shade to shine, The World went thundering free; And what was his errand but hers and mine - The lords of him, I and she? O, it's die we must, but it's live we can, And the marvel of earth and sun Is all for the joy of woman and man And the longing that makes them one.
Dawn comes slowly but dusk is rapid.
All the mortal world is a lethal enemy during those hours between dawn and dusk.
Change, like sunshine, can be a friend or a foe, a blessing or a curse, a dawn or a dusk.
I'm loving every second working with the brilliant Kayvan Novak; it's a hoot from dawn to dusk!
Skateboarding was the only thing I was ever good at. Growing up, I was doing that from, like, dusk till dawn.
True spiritual life depends not on probing our feelings and thoughts from dawn to dusk but on 'looking off' to the Savior!
jukeboxes, radio and television, going from dawn to dusk, help spread the poison of synthetic, artificial, rhythmical noise.
From dawn to dusk, winter to spring, summer & autumn; the contrasts of nature refresh the mind & renew our sense of balance
Soon it got dusk, a grapy dusk, a purple dusk over tangerine groves and long melon fields; the sun the color of pressed grapes, slashed with burgandy red, the fields the color of love and Spanish mysteries.
He who is neither human nor demon is not the dawn nor the dusk.
There is no dusk to be, There is no dawn that was, Only there's now, and now, And the wind in the grass.
My sobriety isn't up for discussion, but as for vices, I seem to hack away at them with my invisible machete from dawn till dusk. The vice of 'more' is an ongoing theme.
There is only one day left, always starting over: it is given to us at dawn and taken away from us at dusk.
WAKING AT NIGHT The blue river is grey at morning and evening. There is twilight at dawn and dusk. I lie in the dark wondering if this quiet in me now is a beginning or an end.
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