Quotes About Atmosphere

There was a reek in her nose, a slick dark green smell of water that was old enough to be clever and dangerous.

When our surroundings are overwhelmingly depressing, how can we be anything but depressed?

A man is known by the company he keeps. This is an infallible test; for his thoughts, and desires, and ambitions, and loves are revealed here. He gravitates naturally to his congenial sphere. And it affects character; for it is the atmosphere he breathes. It enters his blood and makes the circuit of his veins.

Two packed houses. I guess the theater sat 2 700 people every night so it was an amazing experience.

The point here is that such policies affect not only the way that people feel about the company but also the relationships among the employees themselves—indeed, the whole texture of life inside the business.

You know it's summertime at Candlestick when the fog rolls in, the wind kicks up, and you see the center fielder slicing open a caribou to survive the ninth inning.

For Priebus, it was the worst meeting among many terrible ones. Six months into the administration, he could see vividly that they had a fundamental problem of goal setting. Where were they going? The distrust in the room had been thick and corrosive. The atmosphere was primitive; everyone was ostensibly on the same side, but they had seemed suited up in battle armor, particularly the president. This was what craziness was like, Priebus concluded

Vzduch venku byl kapalného skupenství. ÄŒerná, antracitová voda, vybízející k tomu, aby jí ?lovÄ›k položil ruku na hÃ…â"¢bet a pohladil ji.

It smelled bad there, like blood and rotting meat, a dense, heavy smell very different from the smell of his own town, which smelled of dirty clothes, sweat clinging to the skin, pissed-on earth, which is a thin smell, and smell like Chorda filum." 2666, Bolano

Un petit nuage rose descendait de l'air et s'approchait d'eux. "J'y vais! proposa-t-il. -vas-y", dit Colin. Et le nuage les enveloppa. A l'intérieur, il faisait chaud et ça sentait le sucre à la cannelle.

Climate is what we expect. Weather is what we get." Robert A. Heinlein

The room was immaculate—no, preserved. Stuck in a time warp, unused, untouched.

Enid Corval took a seat at the bar. Considering it was only eleven a.m., business seemed pretty brisk. There were maybe ten people scattered amongst the thirty or so stools, equally spaced apart, no one right next to anyone else, like men's urinals in a public bathroom. They all huddled over their drink, eyes down in protective, don't-converse-with-me mode. A group of bikers on the right played pool on a table with ugly rips in the green fabric.

The whole place had a feel and aura about as warm as a cold sore. Myron

Whores hung out the windows like shreds of leftover Christmas decorations.

The remainder of the afternoon went by in the gentle gloom that descends when relatives appear

They were in the Maycomb Hotel diningroom sitting on chromium chairs at a table for two. The air-conditioning unit made its will known by a constant low rumble.

There's nothing like a blood-curdling hymn to make you feel at home

The night-crawlers had retired, but ripe chinaberries drummed on the roof when the wind stirred, and the darkness was desolate with the barking of distant dogs.

I breathed again. It wasn't me, it was only Calpurnia they were talking about. Revived, I entered the livingroom. Atticus had retreated behind his newspaper and Aunt Alexandra was worrying her embroidery

The night-crawlers had retired, but ripe chinaberries drummed on the roof when the wind stirred, and the darkness was desolate with the barking of distant dog.

The sky grew darker, painted blue on blue, one stroke at a time, into deeper and deeper shades of night.

In his or her own way, everyone I saw before me looked happy. Whether they were really happy or just looked it, I couldn't tell. But they did look happy on this pleasant early afternoon in late September, and because of that I felt a kind of loneliness new to me, as if I were the only one here who was not truly part of the scene.

The pillow smells like the sunlight, a precious smell.