Quotes About Atmosphere

But still, sometimes, in the heart of winter when the light outside seemed yellow- sleepy, like a cat curled up on a sofa...

Outside, daylight was bleeding slowly toward dusk.

Lightning flashed dully inside the clouds on the horizon making them look as if they had fireflies of their own, monster fireflies the size of dinosaurs.

The sun was a molten coin burning a circle in the low-hanging overcast, surrounded by a fairy-ring of moisture.

On that gray street, with the smell of industrial smokes in the air and the afternoon bleeding away to evening, downtown Derry looked only marginally more charming than a dead hooker in a church pew.

the look of the sky as the day's blue blood runs out of its cheek.

Shadows were too black, and when a breeze stirred the trees, the shadows changed in a disquieting way.

and the rain went rollin down the windowpanes, and the shadows wiggled n' squiggled on her check and forehead like black veins.

a cloud-congested caul that is alternately red, orange, vermilion, purple. Sometimes the clouds break apart in great, slow rafts, letting through beams of innocent yellow sunlight that are bitterly nostalgic for the summer that has gone by.

There's no room for anything but joy and fear, and joy ruled the house. Fear lived in the shack out back!

There seems to be no air in the air she breaths.

I felt comfortable as only one can on such a night, when all is miserable outside and all is warmth and comfort inside.

The sun had burned through and the day had gone from dull to dazzling, yet in the west blask-satin thunderheads continued to stack up. It was as if night has burst a blood-vessel in the sky over there.

Hugh stretched out one hand and stroked the fur. It felt cold and rich, it crackled with silky static electricity. Stroking it was like stroking a clear autumn night.

It had been like swallowing a gust of October wind.

We reach our best, and we do our best, we are at our best in a love atmosphere.

I love the culture of grilling. It creates an atmosphere that is festive but casual.

Joy seems to me a step beyond happiness- happiness is a sort of atmosphere you can live in sometimes when you're lucky. Joy is a light that fills you with hope and faith and love.

I can drink tea until the cows come home and I love the atmosphere in tea-shops.

I love the DJ scene out in the clubs. It is a great way to party and make people happy, the atmosphere is one that I use as an escape from reality.

I love New Orleans I love the way it looks. I love the way it feels.

Le Marais?' 'It's a little district in the centre of Paris. It is full of cobbled streets and teetering apartment blocks and gay men and orthodox Jews and women of a certain age who once looked like Brigitte Bardot. It's the only place to stay.

We had not mentioned love, but my every nerve ending throbbed with it, and I carried it in a cloud around me, like sea mist.

The dark was oppressive, unrelieved by any neighbouring buildings or sodium light. It felt primeval,