Quotes About Fog

In nature, everything has a job. The job of the fog is to beautify further the existing beauties!

The fog comes on little cat feet. It sits looking over the harbor and city on silent haunches and then moves on.

Thursday afternoon, the dark clouds closed in, and by Friday morning a heavy rain was falling. The mountain peaks were hazy sentinels, disappearing into misty fog that clung to the valley.

Poetry is a section of river-fog and moving boat-lights, delivered between bridges and whistles, so one says, 'Oh!' and another, 'How?'

Fog and hypocrisy - that is to say, shadow, convention, decency - these were the very things that lent to London its poetry and romance.

Fogs are like dreams that feed the soul, and without their mysterious embrace, childhood, courtship, poetry and the composition of music become all the more difficult.

A light, this side of the hills toward Argyle, / flowed like fog through the hollows, rose to the depth / of the hills, illumined me. I faded in it / as the world faded in me, dissolved in the light. / No one to know and nothing knowable. / Oh, we know that knowing is not our way; / but, the choice is ours, would make it our way, would leave / the world for the same world made knowable.

The future is a fog that is still hanging out over the sea, a boat that floats home or does not.

Tell me what's the difference between hope and waiting because my heart doesn't know It constantly cuts itself on the glass of waiting It constantly gets lost in the fog of hope

Faith is like radar that sees through the fog -- the reality of things at a distance that the human eye cannot see.

The beauty of writing is imagining new endings to a time of darkness, like burning off a morning fog with the heat and clarity of the sun.

for fog was merely a cloud that wasn't too smitten with itself to visit terra firma.

The Mountain One moment, the mountain is clear in strong morning sunlight. The next, vanished in fog. I returned to Tu Fu, afraid to look up again from my reading and find in the window moonlight - but when I do, the fog is still there, and only the ancient poet's hair has turned gray while a single wild goose passed him, silently climbing.

I have a beard of fog that I wear on misty mornings. It's not cigarette smoke, but I'd understand if you wanted to shave it off and inhale it.

We love fog because it shifts old anomalies into the elements surrounding them. It gives relief from a way of seeing

She seemed always to have seen him through a blur - first of sleepiness, then of distance and indifference - and now the fog had thickened till he was almost indistinguishable.

Manuel Mandeb entró en la niebla y se sintió más tranquilo. Prefería caminar en la cerrazón porque el rumbo era incierto, las ubicaciones discutibles y las apariencias confusas. Mandeb sentía terror ante lo irrefutable, ante las decisiones del amor tomadas, ante lo que ya nunca podría ser de otro modo.

The storm is a glazier. Then fog passes through, touches the cold trees to add to the ice already there. Here the wind spins glass from the water it has stolen off the sea and the lakes, off the hair on my head and the breath out of my mouth, the storm takes the water from us all everywhere, to make of a mountain range a stained-glass depiction of a saint no one knows.

A low line of shore was visible at first on the right between the movement of the waves and fog, but when we came further it was lost sight of, and nothing could be seen but the mist curling in the rigging, and a small circle of foam.

Everything is about energy. We're surrounded by electro mist, fog and smog. We're covering ourselves in the wrong sorts of electro-magnetism. These idiot politicians who talk about climate change, for goodness sake, do they really think little us can do anything about it? No, of course not.

That's the thing about depression: A human being can survive almost anything, as long as she sees the end in sight. But depression is so insidious, and it compounds daily, that it's impossible to ever see the end. The fog is like a cage without a key.

Thrall is no assassin skulking in the fog nor is he an honorless warrior!

The psyche's job is to keep us blissfully ignorant of who we are, what we think, and how we'll behave in any situation. We're all operating in a dense fog of mutual reinforcement. Our thoughts are shaped primarily by legacy hardware that evolved to assume that everyone else must be right . But even when the fog is pointed out, we're no better at navigating through it .

The psyche's job is to keep us blissfully ignorant of who we are, what we think, and how we'll behave in any situation. We're all operating in a dense fog of mutual reinforcement. Our thoughts are shaped primarily by legacy hardware that evolved to assume that everyone else must be right. But even when the fog is pointed out, we're no better at navigating through it.