“From morn to noon he fell, from noon to dewy eve, a summer's day; and with the setting sun dropped from the zenith like a falling star.”

“Is there notA tongue in every star that talks with man,And wooes him to be wise? nor wooes in vain;This dead of midnight is the noon of thought,And wisdom mounts her zenith with the stars.”

“She was the breeze on a summer's day, the first drops of rain when the earth was parched, light from the evening star.”

“This is so my favorite time of day to make house calls," Mendoza announced from the backseat of Wyatt's SUV as they cruised the Soyopango gangland territory. "Nothing says sneak attack like waltzing in under the cover of the noon-fucking-sun.”

“Every man casts a shadow; not his body only, but his imperfectly mingled spirit. This is his grief. Let him turn which way he will, it falls opposite to the sun; short at noon, long at eve. Did you never see it?”

“...."the sound of a barrel organ rising from the deepest golden vein of the day; two or three bars of a chorus, played on a distant piano over and over again, melting in the sun on the white pavement, lost in the fire of high noon.”