Quotes About Fog

Quotes tagged as "fog" (showing 1-30 of 49)
Charles Dickens
“LONDON. Michaelmas Term lately over, and the Lord Chancellor sitting in Lincoln’s Inn Hall. Implacable November weather. As much mud in the streets as if the waters had but newly retired from the face of the earth, and it would not be wonderful to meet a Megalosaurus, forty feet long or so, waddling like an elephantine lizard up Holborn Hill. Smoke lowering down from chimney-pots, making a soft black drizzle, with flakes of soot in it as big as full-grown snow-flakes — gone into mourning, one might imagine, for the death of the sun. Dogs, undistinguishable in mire. Horses, scarcely better; splashed to their very blinkers. Foot passengers, jostling one another’s umbrellas in a general infection of ill-temper, and losing their foot-hold at street-corners, where tens of thousands of other foot passengers have been slipping and sliding since the day broke (if the day ever broke), adding new deposits to the crust upon crust of mud, sticking at those points tenaciously to the pavement, and accumulating at compound interest.

Fog everywhere. Fog up the river, where it flows among green aits and meadows; fog down the river, where it rolls defiled among the tiers of shipping and the waterside pollutions of a great (and dirty) city. Fog on the Essex marshes, fog on the Kentish heights. Fog creeping into the cabooses of collier-brigs; fog lying out on the yards, and hovering in the rigging of great ships; fog drooping on the gunwales of barges and small boats. Fog in the eyes and throats of ancient Greenwich pensioners, wheezing by the firesides of their wards; fog in the stem and bowl of the afternoon pipe of the wrathful skipper, down in his close cabin; fog cruelly pinching the toes and fingers of his shivering little ’prentice boy on deck. Chance people on the bridges peeping over the parapets into a nether sky of fog, with fog all round them, as if they were up in a balloon, and hanging in the misty clouds.

Gas looming through the fog in divers places in the streets, much as the sun may, from the spongey fields, be seen to loom by husbandman and ploughboy. Most of the shops lighted two hours before their time — as the gas seems to know, for it has a haggard and unwilling look.

The raw afternoon is rawest, and the dense fog is densest, and the muddy streets are muddiest near that leaden-headed old obstruction, appropriate ornament for the threshold of a leaden-headed old corporation, Temple Bar. And hard by Temple Bar, in Lincoln’s Inn Hall, at the very heart of the fog, sits the Lord High Chancellor in his High Court of Chancery.”
Charles Dickens, Bleak House

Ray Bradbury
“One day many years ago a man walked along and stood in the sound of the ocean on a cold sunless shore and said, "We need a voice to call across the water, to warn ships; I'll make one. I'll make a voice like all of time and all of the fog that ever was; I'll make a voice that is like an empty bed beside you all night long, and like an empty house when you open the door, and like trees in autumn with no leaves. A sound like the birds flying south, crying, and a sound like November wind and the sea on the hard, cold shore. I'll make a sound that's so alone that no one can miss it, that whoever hears it will weep in their souls, and hearths will seem warmer, and being inside will seem better to all who hear it in the distant towns. I'll make me a sound and an apparatus and they'll call it a Fog Horn and whoever hears it will know the sadness of eternity and the briefness of life."

The Fog Horn blew.”
Ray Bradbury, The Fog Horn

Raymond Chandler
“Under the thinning fog the surf curled and creamed, almost without sound, like a thought trying to form inself on the edge of consciousness.”
Raymond Chandler, The Big Sleep

Vladimir Nabokov
“Children of her type contrive the purest philosophies. Ada had worked out her own little system. Hardly a week had elapsed since Van’s arrival when he was found worthy of being initiated in her web of wisdom. An individual’s life consisted of certain classified things: "real things" which were unfrequent and priceless, simply "things" which formed the routine stuff of life; and "ghost things," also called "fogs," such as fever, toothache, dreadful disappointments, and death. Three or more things occurring at the same time formed a "tower," or, if they came in immediate succession, they made a "bridge." "Real towers" and "real bridges" were the joys of life, and when the towers came in a series, one experienced supreme rapture; it almost never happened, though. In some circumstances, in a certain light, a neutral "thing" might look or even actually become "real" or else, conversely, it might coagulate into a fetid "fog." When the joy and the joyless happened to be intermixed, simultaneously or along the ramp of duration, one was confronted with "ruined towers" and "broken bridges.”
Vladimir Nabokov, Ada, or Ardor: A Family Chronicle

Rudyard Kipling
“A thin grey fog hung over the city, and the streets were very cold; for summer was in England.”
Rudyard Kipling, The Light That Failed [Illustrated]

Erin Bow
“At night the fog was thick and full of light, and sometimes voices.”
Erin Bow, Plain Kate

Vera Nazarian
“Desire is like fog on a bathroom mirror -- its presence incites you to wipe the mirror, and see yourself clearly again.”
Vera Nazarian, The Perpetual Calendar of Inspiration

“moonlight disappears down the hills
mountains vanish into fog
and i vanish into poetry.”
Sanober Khan, A Thousand Flamingos

Leslie Connor
“In the morning I woke like a sloth in the fog.”
Leslie Connor, Waiting for Normal

Umberto Eco
“I returned to the courtyard and saw that the sun had grown weaker. Beautiful and clear as it had been, the morning (as the day approached the completion of its first half) was becoming damp and misty. Heavy clouds moved from the north and were invading the top of the mountain, covering it with a light brume. It seemed to be fog, and perhaps fog was also rising from the ground, but at that altitude it was difficult to distinguish the mists that rose from below and those that come down from above. It was becoming hard to discern the bulk of the more distant buildings.”
Umberto Eco, The Name of the Rose

Erin Bow
“The night was white-blind with fog, and Kate staggered over every stone and stumbled in every puddle, but she pushed on as fast as she could.”
Erin Bow, Plain Kate

“I admire the fog, how it fades into itself.”
Marty Rubin

Amit Ray
“When life is foggy, path is unclear and mind is dull, remember your breath. It has the power to give you the peace. It has the power to resolve the unsolved equations of life.”
Amit Ray, Beautify your Breath - Beautify your Life

“I have woken up…quite sloshed
from night-mingled rains
a little drugged, by mountain fogs
I have been kidnapped
for years....by a mere kiss.”
Sanober Khan, A Thousand Flamingos

Lawren Leo
“Hidden by diaphanous clouds of mist and fog floating gracefully over vales of heather and flowing runnels, she began to dance.”
Lawren Leo, Love's Shadow: Nine Crooked Paths

Miguel de Unamuno
“¡No metáis en la cabeza lo que os quepa en el bolsillo! ¡No metáis en el bolsillo lo que os quepa en la cabeza!"

"No ye may thrust your head in what I fit in your pocket! No ye may thrust in his pocket that you fit on the head!"

"Cebinize sığanı kafanıza sokmayın! Kafanıza sığanı cebinize tıkmayın!”
Miguel de Unamuno, Niebla

Luke  Taylor
“The sound of diesel fuel rushing through grimy pistons and cylinders below a morning-fogged window bored through his ears like a deep-water drill bit, and the thump of his own heartbeat cursed him for breaking one of his many rules.”
Luke Taylor, Shatterpoint Alpha

“Οι πόλεις της ομίχλης είναι σκαθάρια μες στο γάλα, καψίματα απ' το στάξιμο του λυχναριού στους πορτολάνους - ξεχωρίζουν. Είναι συνήθως χτισμένες δίπλα στο νερό, κρυμμένες κάτω απ' τους στυλοβάτες του ουρανού, και ζούνε στη σιγή του χρόνου που περνά.”
Isidoros Zourgos, Σκηνές από τον βίο του Ματίας Αλμοσίνο
tags: cities, fog

Jaimal Yogis
“As on many mornings in Marin, there is this sly strip of fog - water in it's most mystical incarnation - slithering over, around, and through the hills, making everything look ancient and unsolved.”
Jaimal Yogis, Saltwater Buddha: A Surfer's Quest to Find Zen on the Sea

Criss Jami
“To the short-sighted, through the fog, God must be a monster.”
Criss Jami, Healology

“foggy hangover....fending off sloth and torpor....the battle within!!!!!”
Mukesh Kwatra

Jan Karon
“... for fog was merely a cloud that wasn't too smitten with itself to visit terra firma.”
Jan Karon, Come Rain or Come Shine
tags: beauty, fog

“Clouds are high flying Fog”
gaurav rao

Kathleen Norris
“Being closed in makes us edgy because it reminds us of our vulnerability before the elements; we can't escape the fact that life is precarious.”
Kathleen Norris, Dakota: A Spiritual Geography

“I had come out of the city, where story-telling is a manufactured science, to the country where story-telling is a by-product of life.”
Dana Burnet, The Best American Short Stories of 1916: And the Yearbook of the American Short Story

“In the country, a semicircle is the shortest line between two points.”
Dana Burnet, The Best American Short Stories of 1916: And the Yearbook of the American Short Story

Mehmet Murat ildan
“No one can see very clearly inside the heavy fog, no one but the fog himself!”
Mehmet Murat ildan

Sara Sheridan
“This investigation felt difficult, like driving in fog.
Sara Sheridan, British Bulldog

Donna Tartt
“Even now I remember those pictures, like pictures in a storybook one loved as a child. Radiant meadows, mountains vaporous in the trembling distance; leaves ankle-deep on a gusty autumn road; bonfires and fog in the valleys; cellos, dark window-panes, snow.”
Donna Tartt

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