Quotes About Atmosphere

There was still an hour or two of daylight - even though clouds admitted only a greyish light upon the world, and his Uncle Timothy's house was by nature friendly to gloom. ("Out Of The Deep")

The Shars seethed in the dim light of their ruddy sun. Pointed faces raised to the sky, they sniffed the faint wind for sign of the stranger and scented only hydrocarbons, far-off vegetations, damp fur, the sweat of excitement and fear.

A few amber clouds floated in the sky without a breath of air to move them. The horizon was of a fine golden tint, changing gradually into a pure apple-green, and from that into the deep blue of the mid-heaven.

No importa cuán despierto hayas sido, una vez te adentras en las sombras de esta región ya no puedes permanecer ajeno a su influjo; la ensoñación mágica de su atmósfera se apodera de ti al instante;

It has been said above that art is the child of its age. Such an art can only create an artistic feeling which is already clearly felt. This art, which has no power for the future, which is only a child of the age and cannot become a mother of the future, is a barren art. She is transitory and to all intent dies the moment the atmosphere alters which nourished her.

If you are not familiar with millibars, 1020 is high; 1000 is low; and what really matters is direction and speed of change.

I can even hear the sun. It sounds like a jet taking off in the middle of the night.

sky dribbled just enough to make the windshield wipers squeal at the slowest setting.

the gentle melancholia that afflicts country people when the warm weather is ending.

Good or bad, everything smelled more in the South. Inside

A race track is a place where windows clean people.

Free discussion requires an atmosphere unembarrassed by any suggestion of authority or even respect. If a subordinate agrees with his superior he is a useless part of the organization.1

The atmosphere is a subtle ocean steadily generated and rejuvenated by the diverse entities that dwell within it, a fluid medium of exchange between the plants and the animals and the weathered rocks.

a village that was probably depressing in peacetime and now looked about as much fun as Sweden on the first Monday in January.

wasn't as pleasant lately, Sam thought, as he made his way through the back entry to the detectives' division. There weren't so many people there

Her voice had something of the warm darkness in it.

The shed of leaves became a cascade of red and gold and after a time the trees stood skeletal against a sky of weathered tin. The land lay bled of its colors. The nights lengthened, went darker, brightened in their clustered stars. The chilled air smelled of woodsmoke, of distances and passing time. Frost glimmered on the morning fields. Crows called across the pewter afternoons.

She smiled for the first time, and he almost had to look away, as if something that nice didn't belong in such a glum and gray place, as if he had no right to look at her expression.

He began his new life standing up, surrounded by cold darkness and stale, dusty air.

They fell from the sky in jagged streaks, like bars of

The room fell silent. Thomas has never seen Newt like this. So angry-- so unwilling to put a calm front, even.

The low bump-bump-bump suddenly seemed to come from everywhere at once, the echoes bouncing back and forth between the alley walls.

When neither Tick nor anyone else made a move, Jane stopped. Her body stiffened, and some kind of unspoken warning seemed to flow from her, back at them like a misty spray of poison.

Fear seemed to hover in the air like a blizzard of black snow.