Quotes About Atmosphere

At the end of ten minutes fifty thousand lights glittered, descending from the Palazzo di Venezia to the Piazza del Popolo, and mounting from the Piazzo del Popolo to the Palazzo di Venezia. It seemed like the fete of jack-o'-lanterns. It is impossible to form any idea of it without having seen it. Suppose that all the stars had descended from the sky and mingled in a wild dance on the face of the earth; the whole accompanied by cries that were never heard in any other part of the world.

Then two dark figures appeared. One of them, tall, majestic, stern, sat down near the table on which Van Baerle had placed the taper.

It was a stormy and dark night;

In short, with each of the thousand-and-one problems that present themselves in family life, our choice is between controlling and teaching, between creating an atmosphere of distrust and one of trust, between setting an example of power and helping children to learn responsibility, between quick-fix parenting and the kind that's focused on long-term goals.

She'd bought a blue notebook in the pharmacy to write down her aunt's remedies. Star tulip to understand dreams, bee balm for a restful sleep, black mustard seed to repel nightmares, remedies that used essential oils of almond or apricot or myrrh from thorn trees in the desert. Two eggs, which must never be eaten, set under a bed to clean a tainted atmosphere. Vinegar as a cleansing bath. Garlic, salt, and rosemary, the ancient spell to cast away evil.

One morning when the air was misleading and mild with hope....

Tonight the special was chicken pot pie, but most of the regulars were concentrating on whiskey.

the sky outside was so gloomy it pushed down on anyone who dared to walk beneath it.

There seemed to be handfuls of stars tossed right above the rooftops in Haddan, keeping the town still alight at midnight.

had felt a chill, as if she brought the future with her, clinging to her clothes.

She could recognize the change in the air when anybody in her family, anywhere in the house, began to read. The air was roomier, because the reader was elsewhere.

It had been raining, that gray, unpoetic rain of midwinter in a dreary suburb.

The wind," Mary said again. "It was making everyone tear up.

There wasn't a tear to be seen on the faces of the men and women in the street as the two of them walked down to Schrafft's. Only him, again, leaning by the door, suit jacket and fedora, the sunlight striking gold, the leg he had favored bent back and pressed against the building. He was smoking a cigarette. He was the handsomest man on the block. He was waiting for her.

The sand here, at their feet as they looked down from the dry cliff, was dark gray, the color of a thundercloud. The

The cold wind made it difficult to breathe, as if it could snatch your next breath before you had time to swallow it, and

Their father took his hand from his shoulder. The wind rattled the windows, careful now. "Listen to that," their mother said. "It's really picking up." Above the pines, the sky had turned a deeper blue. In another minute, there would be rain. "We just might feel the brunt of this hurricane after all," their father said.

There are people who carry decency and optimism around with them, who seem to cleanse every atmosphere they settle in, and you can't tell such people things, it is too disruptive.

She thought that when she went with Peter to an engineers' party, the atmosphere was pleasant though the talk was boring. That was because everybody had their importance fixed and settled at least for the time being. Here nobody was safe. Judgment might be passed behind backs, even on the known and published. An air of cleverness or nerves obtained, no matter who you were.

un campo que parecía sujeto por olas de hielo de borde azulado.

She was someone who could not be rushed. This seems a small thing. But it is actually a very amazing quality, a very ancient one. She did everything at just the same pace as before, she could tell the time of day or night by the moisture in the atmosphere, and she went about her business as if she would live forever, and forever was very, very long. That is the kind of mujer my mama was. When you look at me you see her, but I have lost 'forever'; therefore I sometimes hurry.

It shouldn't be an afterthought. The right environment around you can make whatever job you're doing pleasurable, no matter how small the task.

Over all was that air of abandonment and decay which seems nowhere so fit and significant as in a village of the forgotten dead.

The place smelled of smoke and sweat, of spilled drinks and sprayed vomit, of desperation and wasted chances