Quotes About Mists

Uranus] is a world of mists, " said Mother wistfully. "It has no surface, you know; the wet gases of its sky thicken imperceptibly into the wetter ocean, and the liquid ocean thickens similarly into a solid core. It is a place of soft and ceaseless main, and eternal mist. Not unlike Scotland.

Life knows us not and we do not know life—-we don't know even our own thoughts. Half the words we use have no meaning whatever and of the other half each man understands each word after the fashion of his own folly and conceit. Faith is a myth and beliefs shift like mists on the shore; thoughts vanish; words, once pronounced, die; and the memory of yesterday is as shadowy as the hope of tomorrow

Joys come from simple and natural things: mists over meadows, sunlight on leaves, the path of the moon over water.

The mists remain of the false glory that erupts from history.

On motionless wing they emerge from the lifting mists, sweep a final arc of sky, and settle in clangorous descending spirals to their feeding grounds. A new day has begun on the crane marsh.

Every aspect of every minute of the day--rain without surcease spilling out of the black and liquid sky; sloughed, fierce sweeps of wind; the swollen, silt-ridden, ever-swiftening river; the torturing midges; the ghostly mists like amorphous shifts of sorrow--all had acted in perfect scheme to chasten desire. Nought, though, can ever fully dry the angler's heart of it.

The secret shape of this book is a parachute all the lines leading to the person hanging there drifting on the wind and always falling waiting for the mists to clear

his old life lay behind in the mists, dark adventure lay in front.

There were mists over the river and clouds on the mountain and the trucks splashed mud on the road and the troops were muddy and wet in their capes; their rifles were wet and under their capes the two leather cartridge-boxes on the front of the belts, gray leather boxes heavy with the packs of clips of thin, long 6.5 mm. cartridges, bulged forward under the capes so that the men, passing on the road, marched as though they were six months gone with child.

That sinuous southern life, that oblique and slow and complicated old beauty, that warm thick air and blood warm sea, that place of mists and languor and fragrant richness.

That sinuous southern life, that oblique and slow and complicated old beauty, that warm thick air and blood warm sea, that place of mists and languor and fragrant richness...

Life is demand and supply, or supply and demand, that's what it all boils down to, but that's no way to live. A third leg is needed to keep the table from collapsing into the garbage pit of history, which in turn is permanently collapsing into the garbage pit of the void. So take note. This is the equation: supply + demand + magic. And what is magic? Magic is epic and it's also sex and Dionysian mists and play.

in her inward reality she was a vehicle of transformation, travelling through the mists of illusion towards the elusive, ever-receding landfall that was Truth.

Life and the Universe show spontaneity;Down with ridiculous notions of Deity!Churches and creeds are lost in the mists;Truth must be sought with the Positivists.

She should have looked ridiculous, standing there wet and bedraggled in her silly underwear, but she looked magnificent. Like some kind of mythical goddess rising from the mists of time. Statuesque, utterly feminine. Breathtaking.

However, come, let's go, the world's turned gray And chilly, evening mists are rising, At nightfall it's indoors you want to be. 1170 But why should you stand still, astonished, staring? What can you see in the dusk to find upsetting?

Hence there is   nothing that Satan so much endeavors to accomplish as to bring on mists   with the view of obscuring Christ, because he knows, that by this means   the way is opened up for every kind of falsehood.

I saw Chungking for the first time more than 40 years ago - a city of hills and mists, of grays and lavenders, two rivers shaping it to a point and the cliff rising above me like a challenge.

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun.

Avalon is a magical island that is hidden behind huge impenetrable mists. Unless the mists part, there is no way to navigate your way to the island. But unless you believe the island is there, the mists won't part.

And that's what a miracle is: a parting of the mists, a shift in perception, a return to love.

I pictured myself sitting by the fire and knitting the Celtic mists and shadowy pools into my cloth. I pictured Jonathan getting up from his typewriter and going out to split wood like a man in Ingmar Bergman, and the child, with woollen mittens flapping at its cuffs, tottering after him.

Was it pretty? Your country. . .your land? It was beautiful, the gunslinger said. There were fields and forests and rivers and mists in the morning. But that's only pretty. My mother used to say that the only real beauty is order and love and light.

Lenin loved people only "in general," the self-exiled writer Maxim Gorky nicely summarized in a short book in 1924. "His love looked far ahead, through the mists of hatred.