Quotes About Air

The smell of oak and barbecue permeate the air around the small house. Delfina uses oak for her barbecue and Mom (and me) always used hickory. People said that you could tell where North Star was solely based on the competing smells that met in the air just above the town. That little weevil of an idea pops back up. Our plot of land. It's still there.

Like ether, let us remain undivided and not become narrow and unyielding. Like the earth, let us help and share the burden of all. Like the water, let us flow untethered and quench the deepest thirst. Like fire, let us eliminate the unnecessary and unimportant. Like air, let us silently become a lifeline for all.

Men are like beer. Some are bold and some are smooth. But every damn one of 'em has a big-ass head full of air.

It gets too hot in there after a long test," he told Ehren. "The air gets all squishy." "It's called humidity, Tavi," Ehren said. "I haven't slept in almost two days. It's squishy.

Michael titled his head. "But . . . Uriel, if I were to misuse it . . ." "I would Fall," Uriel said quietly. I choked on the air. Holy crap. The last time an archangel Fell, I'm pretty sure there were extended consequences.

One more tip, kids. If you had any real talent, the air would practically have been on fire when you got ready to throw down. But you losers don't have enough magic between you to turn cereal into breakfast.

It might have been my imagination, but I thought the pair of them rocked back a little, swaying like reeds before an oncoming storm. October wind blew about us, freezing-cold air that took its chill from the icy depths of Lake Michigan. "What do you want?" I asked them. I borrowed frost from the wind and put it in my voice.

The shimmering field of the veil around us made us look like blurs in the air, maybe a little bit more obvious than a Predator.

There is an impulse for vengeance among certain men south of the border that leaves even the sturdiest Sicilian gasping for fresh air.

In the aftermath of the wind the air was dry, burning, so clear that she could see the ploughed furrows of firebreaks on distant mountains. Not even the highest palms moved. The stillness and clarity of the air seemed to rob everything of its perspective, seemed to alter all perception of depth, and Maria drove as carefully as if she were reconnoitering an atmosphere without gravity.

It is three o'clock on a Sunday afternoon and 105° and the air so thick with smog that the dusty palm trees loom up with a sudden and rather attractive mystery.

There are stories everywhere; in the air; the food you eat; in the embers of the fire. […] This is my story; the story of the land-folk and the seal-folk, a story of love, and of treachery, and of the call of the ocean.

The threat of Christmas hung in the air, visible already in the fretful look of passersby as they readied themselves for the meaningless but necessary rites of false joviality and ill-considered gifts.

There is but one Paris and however hard living may be here, and if it became worse and harder even—the French air clears up the brain and does good—a world of good.

There are two gates of Sleep. One is of horn, easy of passage for the shades of truth; the other, of gleaming white ivory, permits false dreams to ascend to the upper air.

IF this importunate heart trouble your peace With words lighter than air

The silence of a place where there were once horses is a mountain and I have seen by lightning that ever mountain once fell from the air ringing like the chime of an iron shoe...

but happiness has a shape made of air / it was never owned by anyone / it comes when it will in its own time — W.S. Merwin, from "December Morning," Garden Time (Copper Canyon Press, 2016)

Personally I have no bone to pick with graveyards, I take the air there willingly, perhaps more willingly than elsewhere, when take the air I must.

the strongest seeds most need the accompaniment of good air and soil, so the best of human characters turn out the worst when they fall upon an unsuitable soil;

There was a chill in the air, to be sure, a damp cool vapour drifting round corners and rising from drains. But I had just come from London, where November vapours were like ill-intentioned hands sliding beneath your collar to encircle your coat-chafed, chicken-skinned throat, where November winds cut more deeply than my stolen scalpel ever did.

Michael might have become a vampire, but watching him stand outside in the night air, breathing in his freedom Claire thought that was as human as it could get.

Roaming the streets of Manhattan on foot had always been one of my favorite ways to find inspiration. There's so much to see and smell (not all of it pleasant, except this time of year, which smells of roasted cashews, crisp air, and gingerbread lattes).

Yeah. I know, I'm so bridge-and-tunnel—for as long as I've been able to catch the train, I've been sneaking into the city to go to Midtown. Hang out with the bankers, merge some mergers and acquire some acquisitions. The whole thing just reeked of sex and rock 'n' roll to me. Can't you feel it in the air? Close your eyes. Feel it?" I