The night is clearer than ink. Well, our nights are. In the winter, at least. Cracking with cold and faint lights mingled with darkness, the sky so high up that the very presence of the air makes your head spin. Nights don't get much clearer than that.
Unless you're weird and need lights to see clearly. But then there's our summer nights, which can be quite clear as well. All that sun, shining down upon the dew forming slowly, hesitantly, uncertain of whether 'tis morning or night or evening or day. We do have days as cold as the summer nights, after all. We have days considerably colder, too.