Quotes About Atmosphere

Some cause happiness wherever they go; others, whenever they go.

It was an ill-omened place. Death walked there in the sunlight.

Before Turner there was no fog in London.

But Venice, like Oxford, had kept the background for romance, and, to the true romantic, background was everything, or almost everything.

A cold rain began to fall, and the blurred street-lamps looked ghastly in the dripping mist.

The dim roar of London was like the bourdon note of a distant organ.

The studio was filled with the rich odour of roses, and when the light summer wind stirred amidst

In the slanting beams that streamed through the open doorway the dust danced and was golden. The heavy scent of the roses seemed to brood over everything.

That is the peculiarity of London. There is a sort of cold unfriendliness about it. A city like New York makes the new arrival feel at home in half an hour; but London is a specialist in what Psmith called in his letter the Distant Stare. You have to buy London's good will.

The cup of tea on arrival at a country house is a thing which, as a rule, I particularly enjoy. I like the crackling logs, the shaded lights, the scent of buttered toast, the general atmosphere of leisured cosiness.

A depressing musty scent pervaded the place, as if a cheese had recently died there in painful circumstances.

There is a fog, sir. If you will recollect, we are now in Autumn – season of mists and mellow fruitfulness.

It was one of those heavy, sultry afternoons when nature seems to be saying to itself, 'Now, shall I, or shall I not, scare the pants off these people with a hell of a thunderstorm?

She was standing by the barometer, which, if it had had an ounce of sense in its head, would have been pointing to 'Stormy' instead of 'Set Fair

I mean, if you fool about too long at the start, trying to establish atmosphere, as they call it, and all that sort of rot, you fail to grip and the customers walk out on you.

restaurant in the rain, and note what time someone

In what language does rain fall over tormented cities?

Walking the streets of Charleston in the late afternoons of August was like walking through gauze or inhaling damaged silk.

I went up to the terrace again and looked out on the tawny, many-alleyed city. At night it looked carved from brown sugar.

terrace above the Red Lion Bookshop observing

Mist rolled gray and thick over the small coastal town of Sunset Cove, Oregon.

Dusk was falling quickly. It was just after 7 P.M., and the month was October.

A terrible silence fell in the room. Bill Ireton looked suddenly sober as a trout.

Though it had no wide reputation, all manner of people frequented 'The Midnight Bell.' This was in its nature, of course, since it is notorious that all manner of people frequent all manner of public-houses - which in this respect resemble railway stations and mad-houses.