Daylight spilled through the thin white drapes, and at first I thought the light had awakened me.

Daylight spilled in through the oversize windows from morning to evening, affirming the metaphor of "inner light" that is central to Quaker beliefs.

Daylight spilled cold, grey light through the arches when the clatter of hooves echoed up from the courtyard.

Daylight spilled brightly through the casement.

Daylight spilled in, and I was dazzled for a second, because my sunglasses were still tucked across the front of my shirt.

Daylight spilled across the floor.