Literary notes about afterglow (AI summary)
In literature, the term "afterglow" serves as a versatile image that blends the literal and the metaphorical. Often it denotes the lingering light after sunset—a soft, transient radiance that paints the sky with hues of gold, rose, or opal, as when the western horizon still shimmers in the wake of day ([1], [2], [3]). At the same time, writers employ "afterglow" to evoke intangible emotions and lasting impressions, capturing the residual warmth of love, memory, or even the aftermath of conflict ([4], [5], [6]). This duality enriches the narrative, allowing the afterglow to symbolize both a natural spectacle and a subtle, enduring feeling that lingers long after the primary event has passed ([7], [8]).
- The moon had not yet risen, but the stars were out and a faint afterglow of sunset still lingered in the western sky.
— from The Radio Boys on Secret Service Duty by Gerald Breckenridge - The afterglow had faded slowly into the blue dusk of night; only a faint thread of gold still lingered beyond the cedars on the western horizon.
— from One Man in His Time by Ellen Anderson Gholson Glasgow - Beyond the hill the afterglow of sunset still lingered in the sky.
— from Project Gutenberg Compilation of Short Stories by Chekhov by Anton Pavlovich Chekhov - [27] 23 In love's afterglow, full of stars, Those lilies of the river of night, Sing no song, dear, speak no word.
— from SandhyaSongs of Twilight by Dhan Gopal Mukerji - “The reason I ask is—I’ve seen its afterglow, and it produced such violent sensations that a very little more would have proved too much.”
— from A Voyage to Arcturus by David Lindsay - An afterglow deepened within his spirit, whence the white flame had passed, deepening to a rose and ardent light.
— from A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man by James Joyce - A lemon afterglow hung above the hills, and where it darkened into the evening sky, a single star shone in a feeble point of light.
— from Destiny by Charles Neville Buck - Not until their pipes were going, and the red afterglow was shrouding the fading day, did he mention what he had learned at Datil.
— from The Mesa Trail by H. (Henry) Bedford-Jones
