Quotes About Atmosphere

A good local pub has much in common with a church, except that a pub is warmer, and there's more conversation.

From time to time Eva would venture on deck to gaze at the grey sky,the grey turbulent water and the grey ships with their belching smoke stacks butting and smashing onward through the waves and jagged swells - disappearing in explosions of wintry spume from time to time - gamely making for the British Isles

The air smelt of booze, sweat and cheap perfume - redolent of sex and danger. There was a kind of frontier recklessness about the atmosphere, Bond thought, and recognised its allure.

I stopped and filled my lungs, smelling Africa - smelling dust, woodsmoke, a perfume from a flower, something musty, something decaying.

Low-ceilinged and smoke-foxed, it had a curious smell: part beer, part cold fireplace ash, part pipe tobacco.

the faucet of June that rings the triangle of the air

Even sound seemed to fail in this air, like the air was worn out with carrying sounds so long.

The cotton was open and spilling into the fields; the very air smelled of it. In field after field as he passed along the pickers, arrested in stooping attitudes, seemed fixed amid the constant surf of bursting bolls like piles in surf, the long, partly-filled sacks streaming away behind them like rigid frozen flags. The air was hot, vivid and breathless--a final fierce concentration of the doomed and dying summer.

the air thin and eager like this, with something in it sad and nostalgic and familiar.

in the woods the tree frogs were going smelling rain in the air they sounded like toy music boxes that were hard to turn and the honeysuckle come

When the Negro opened the blinds of one window, they could see that the leather was cracked; and when they sat down, a faint dust rose sluggishly about their thighs, spinning with slow motes in the single sun-ray.

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The grass was buzzing in the moonlight where my shadow walked on the grass.

The sky was a deep gray-blue, banded with the colors of rust seen under water.

let us go somewhere where we can do some genuine, blackguard, poverty-stricken drinking, with no false gingerbread glitter thrown over everything!

Rain-silvered plywood

Neighborhoods that mainly operated at night had a way of looking a lot worse in the morning.

and the sort of Italian restaurant furniture, in dark welded steel, that might have belonged to any decade of the past hundred years.

El cielo sobre el puerto era del color de un canal desintonizado en la pantalla de una televisión.

The rain was falling steadily now, but she felt as though she were somehow in collusion with it; it lent the day something conspiratorial

The sky above the port was the colour of television, tuned to a dead channel.

Arleigh's van smelled like long-chain monomers and warm electronics.

Identify yourself, please." Lucky Dragon ATMs all had this same voice, a weird, uptight, strangled little castrato voice, and he wondered why that was. But you could be sure they'd worked it out: probably it kept people from standing around, bullshitting with the machine. But Rydell knew

By day, the bars down Ninsei were shuttered and featureless, the neon dead, the holograms inert, waiting, under the poisoned silver sky.