Quotes About Smoke

At 2:51 A.M. student engineer Tripp wrote in his log: "Night watchman Foersch reported to captain that he had just seen and smelled smoke coming out of one of the small ventilators on the port after side of the fiddley." The fiddley was a galvanized-iron duct supplying fresh air to the first-class writing room on B deck, among other rooms.

Solid-steel fire doors had been built into entrances to the public rooms to deal with just such an emergency. It would have taken Hackney only a few moments to isolate the writing room from the rest of B deck by lowering its fire door. Clarence Hackney did not take that preventive measure. Smoke billowed after him as he ran for the telephone near the door connecting the first-class lounge to the smoking room. He dialed the bridge.

He had been instructed that once the hold with the cargo of skins was sealed, the ship's smoke-detecting system was to be turned off and was to remain switched off until the last passenger had disembarked in New York.

Now what looks like smoke is only mare's tails—clouds streaming—and as the season changes, my young dog and I wonder if raindrops might not be shattered lightning.

La mia immagine stava sulla soglia. Il mio doppio. In un mantello bianco. Una corona sulla testa. Per un breve istante. Quindi guizzarono le fiamme attraverso il legno della porta, e una calda nuvola di denso fumo soffocante invase la stanza".

Leave the letter that never begins to go find the latter that ever comes to end, written in smoke and blurred by mist and signed of solitude, sealed at night.

There was something about him that glistened, something warm that churned and billowed about, like a smoke cloud filled with sparklers.

The house was on fire, i greeted them tersely. In case you're interested. they both glanced up overhead as if to make sure the house was still standing. Fang sniffed, smelling the smoke. It's out, right? he said

Excuse me. I think something's burning in the fridge.

In the name of 'mutual assistance,' the Soviet Union would occupy Latvia until 1991, and it continues to occupy Latvia: in the obedient, epic lines at the post office, in the fug of coal smoke outside cities, in the notorious apartment buildings made of bricks of radioactive compressed ash.

She will blaze through you like a gypsy wildfire. Igniting you soul and dancing in its flames. And when she is gone, the smell of her smoke will be the only thing left to soothe you.

If you stare at suds, you'll go crazy. But in soap suds, you'll find bubble cubes and many other forms. I just take those things, magnify them and sometimes blow smoke inside it so you can see it better.

The fascination of Germany in this century is the fascination of the abomination. You go there to catch a whiff of the smoke that still hangs in the air.

I like brisket way too well, and I never seem to get it quite like I want it, though this time I'm close. I try to smoke it long enough to start the neighbors complaining. Then I know I'm on the right track.

Then summer fades and passes, and October comes. Will smell smoke then, and feel an unsuspected sharpness, a thrill of nervous, swift elation, a sense of sadness and departure.

a dozen funeral pyres were ablaze at the same time. Black smoke the color of despair rose from those pyres.

The gray ghost that sometimes peeps through the rings of smoke is that of slain old King Convention. Freedom is the tyrant that holds them in slavery.

Information doesn't change behavior," quips Lisa. "If it did, none of us would smoke and we'd all floss.

A rich smell of woodsmoke hung over the road.

In the draws the smoke coming off the ground like mist and the thin black trees burning on the slopes like heathen candles.

and the filthy hides of which they'd divested themselves smoked and stank and blackened in the flames and the red sparks rose like the souls of the small life they'd harbored.

In the morning he sat with his feet crossed under him and watched the sun rise. It sat swagged and red in the smoke like a matrix of molten iron swung wobbling up out of a furnace.

The only element still surprising was how rapidly Sherman was moving: for whichever direction I looked, he'd been here already, burning and emptying out. The smoldering wood made the air smell cruelly like Christmas.

The hard air was still sulphureous, but they were both used to it. Round the near horizon went the haze, opalescent with frost and smoke, and on the top lay the small blue sky; so that it was like being inside an enclosure, always inside. Life always a dream or a frenzy, inside an enclosure.