Quotes About Ambiance

He parked in a nearby street and walked out on to the bridge. Below him the lights of London spread away in a wash of low wattage, Their dimness gave the lie to the very vastless of the city. Bull heard its distant roar, its night-time sough, its terminal cough

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

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

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

The light was going: some cloud cover arriving, as if summoned by drama.

Something that had the quality of a dimly lit stage set just before the curtains rise on opening night. There was a rhythm to it, a beckoning, and a bittersweet tear in time.

Overhead, several bare bulbs glow like tiny moons.

A maze of softly-lit slightly-curved beige hallways, all alike.

I used to think that all great recordings happened at about 3 A.M.

I like simplicity. I like using natural sources. I like images to look natural - as though somebody sitting in a room by a lamp is being lit by that lamp.

flickering lamps scattered here

She watched through a slight mist a party of people who had just come into the restaurant, the movements of arms taking off overcoats, of legs in light-coloured stockings and fee in low-heeled shoes walking over the wooden floor to hide themselves under the tablecloths.

I often don't go to sleep and work through the night. I can't seem to do my vocal takes if there's light outside. There's a gentleness to the night that leads me in my stride.

I went to the Paradise Restaurant on 49th Street and Broadway which was where they were playing, and I sat in.

I write in my house, at my desk, where I have Christmas lights strung over it to try and convince me that I'm having a good time. I can't really write anywhere else.

The architect, like other workers in our endeavor, is facing the inevitability of a change of profession: he [sic] will no longer be a builder of forms alone, but a builder of complete ambiances.

It was a particularly good evening to begin a book.

Without atmosphere a painting is nothing.

I have heard that stiff people lose something of their awkwardness under high ceilings, and in spacious halls. I think, sculptureand painting have an effect to teach us manners, and abolish hurry.

If you construct a room in paint, you haunt it. Your life rests in every stroke. So paint only the rooms that you can bear to occupy forever. Or paint the stars instead.

furniture, but all the lights

Dark, cool, musty, smoky, where light fell funny and everyone looked like someone you knew or wanted to know. Or, more likely, wanted to forget.

He stood and watched the night push itself into the bar and the light push it back out.

The music's still going, going absolutely nowhere, like Philip Glass on Quaaludes.