Solstice Quotes

“After the longest night, tomorrow we sing up the dawn. There is a rejoicing that, even in the darkest time, the sun is not vanquished. As of tomorrow, the days begin to get longer as the light of day grows. While the gentle winter sun slowly opens its eyes, let us all bring more light and compassion into the world. ”
― Dacha Avelin

“May the light illuminate your hearts and shine in your life every day of the year. May everlasting peace be yours and upon our Earth.”
― Eileen Anglin

“Look: this is January the worst onslaught
is ahead of us Don't be lured
by these soft grey afternoons these sunsets cut
from pink and violet tissue-paper by the thought
the days are lengthening
Don't let the solstice fool you:
our lives will always be
a stew of contradictions
the worst moment of winter can come in April
when the peepers are stubbornly still
and our bodies
plod on without conviction
and our thoughts cramp down before the sheer
arsenal of everything that tries us:
this battering, blunt-edged life”
― Adrienne Rich, Your Native Land, Your Life

“The Winter solstice (you haven't lived if you haven't seen us running around in our skivvies, banging on pots and pans, shouting "Come back, sun! Goddammit, come back! Come back!”
― Joanna Russ, The Female Man

“Today we celebrate light and honor the wisdom of the shadows. In connecting with the natural world in a way that honors the sacred immanence in all things, we establish a resonance with the seasons.”
― Dacha Avelin

“When I was seventeen I found a man, or maybe he found me. Away from home for the first time, out of reach of my father’s archaic restrictions and my mother’s culinary insistence, I cut off my hair, dropped my Christian name, wore black and toyed with anorexia, passing incognito among the city workers, just another ant in that vast heap.”
― Nell Grey

“I stood transfixed, the silence ringing in my ears. From the field of wild grasses; cocksfoot, tufted hair, wild oat, tall fescue, reed canary and perennial rye, their subtle shades of green, ochre and pink softly patching and blending in rustling movement, suddenly rose a small flock of starlings that had been feeding quietly unseen among the tall waving stems, the swish of their glossy wings startlingly loud in the stillness of midday. Heat held me captive.”
― Nell Grey

“...some evidence seems to exist that an idea prevailed that in the fairy sphere there is a reversal of the seasons, our winter being their summer. Some such belief seems to have been known to Robert Kirk, for he tells us that 'when we have plenty they [the fairies] have scarcity at their homes.' In respect of the Irish fairies they seem to have changed their residences twice a year: in May, when the ancient Irish "flitted" from their winter houses to summer pastures, and in November, when they quitted these temporary quarters.”
― Lewis Spence, British Fairy Origins

“Holy night, holy night!
Peace on high held in the stars' yoke!
All—that ever the Light had broke,
Is rejoined now,
Both flesh and brow
Bleed sweetly in the red-dusk!

Bjelbog's Spear, Bjelbog's Spear
Sinks to the heart of the drunk earth,
Which—with a sign of holy mirth
A lone rose-bloom
Within the womb
Of the darkest desire dips.

Spotless bride, spotless bride!
Your sweet contrition—cover up,
When the full-filled wedding cup
Yet overflows.
Thus also goes
Into the fierce Night the Day!”
― Clemens Brentano

“Here in the Northern Hemisphere, we celebrate the darkness as it is in its fullest influence. The once fertile forests are now bare and awaiting their rebirth. The surrounding shadows whispering to us of our natural-born powers. And the knowledge of a convergent awakening.”
― Dacha Avelin

“What the hell is that?'

Cassian was grinning that next evening as he waved a hand toward the pile of pine boughs dumped on the ornate red rug in the centre of the foyer. 'Solstice decorations. Straight from the market.'

Snow clung to his broad shoulders and dark hair, and his tan cheeks were flushed with cold. 'You call that a decoration?

He smirked. 'A heap of pine in the middle of the floor is Night Court tradition.'

I crossed my arms. 'Funny.'

'I'm serious.' I glared, and he laughed. 'It's for the mantels, the banister, and whatever else, smartass. Want to help?' He shrugged off his heavy coat, revealing a black jacket and shirt beneath, and hung it in the hall closet. I remained where I was and tapped my foot.

'What?' he said, brows rising. It was rare to see Cassian in anything but his Illyrian leathers, but the clothes, while not as fine as anything Rhys or Mor usually favoured, suited him.

'Dumping a bunch of trees at my feet is really how you say hello these days? A little time in that Illyrian camp and you forget all your manners.'

Cassian was on me in a second, hoisting me off the ground to twirl me until I was going to be sick. I beat at his chest, cursing at him.

Cassian set me down at last. 'What did you get me for Solstice?'

I smacked his arm. 'A heaping pile of shut the hell up.' He laughed again, and I winked at him. 'Hot cocoa or wine?'

Cassian curved a wing around me, turning us toward the cellar door. 'How many good bottles does little Rhysie have left?”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Wings and Ruin

“The idea of Stonehenge as a realm of the dead, visited by the midwinter Sun, makes sense in light of ... passage tombs such as Newgrange. In both cases, the Neolithic builders used the stones to convert their knowledge ... into dramatic moments of sensory perception. Knowing that the solstice falls on a certain day is one thing. Collectively witnessing it in the depths of winter would have been quite another ...”
― Jo Marchant, The Human Cosmos: Civilization and the Stars

“A jigsaw puzzle?'

Amren fitted a tiny piece into the section she'd been working on. 'Am I supposed to be doing something else during my Solstice holiday?”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Frost and Starlight

“You brought weapons to Solstice?' I asked, leaning against the door frame.
...
Cassian shrugged, plopping onto the bed, which was better suited to a child than an Illyrian warrior. 'Some might be gifts.'

'And the rest?'

Cassian toed off his boots and leaned against the headboard, folding his arms behind his head as his wings draped to the floor. 'The females bring their jewelry. I bring my weapons.'

'I know a few females in this house who might take offense to that.'

Cassian offered me a wicked grin in response.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Frost and Starlight

“Go back to the house.'

'I will,' he said, flashing a grin again. 'After I drop you off at your front door.'

At that piece-of-shit apartment she insisted on living in. Across the city.

Nesta's eyes- the same as Feyre's and yet wholly different, sharp and cold as steel- went to his hands. What was in them. 'What is that.'

Another grin as he lifted the small, wrapped parcel. 'Your Solstice present.'

'I don't want one.'

Cassian continued past her, tossing the present in his hands. 'You want this one.'

He prayed she would. It had taken him months to find it.
...
'I don't want anything from you.'

He made himself arch an eyebrow. 'You sure about that, sweetheart?”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Frost and Starlight