Mist's Quotes

#1. Can it be, husband, you still fear the mist's fading, never mind the promise I made you?

Kazuo Ishiguro

#2. Winter is not here yet. There's a little flower, up yonder, the last bud from the multitude of bluebells that clouded those turf steps in July with a lilac mist. Will you clamber up and pluck it to show papa?

Emily Bronte

#3. Minute diamonds of moisture from the mist hung, too, upon Tess's eyelashes, and drops upon her hair, like seed pearls. When the day grew quite strong and commonplace these dried off her; moreover, Tess then lost her strange and ethereal beauty;

Thomas Hardy

#4. It's your Christmas present.
What is?
All this. The whole world. The houses, cars, streets, the wind... it's all yours. You can do what you like.
Sorry, but I'm not sure it's a good present. It's windy... ...there's a mist. It's so cold. And this world isn't that good.

Lukas Moodysson

#5. When the beaded curtain parts with a sound like rain, it is Marco who enters the fortune-teller's chamber, and Isobel immediately flips her veil from her face, the impossibly thin black silk floating back over her head like mist.

Erin Morgenstern

#6. It's this time of year when Kit mist rise in the dark, as if we're a farmer or a fisherman, someone whose livelihood depends on beating the dawn, convincing himself that what looks like night is actually morning.

Julia Glass

#7. You dressed in black," Nico noted, "with the sun coming up. You painted your face but didn't cover that mop of blond hair. You might as well be waving a yellow flag." Will's ears reddened. "Lou Ellen wrapped some Mist around us too.

Rick Riordan

#8. Above him was a clear blue sky, and the sun's vast orb quivered like a huge hollow, crimson float on the surface of that milky sea of mist.

Leo Tolstoy

#9. Who can fail to mist at Fergie's anthem, 'My humps, my humps, my lovely lady lumps.' Hmmm. 'My lunch, my lunch, I swear it's coming up.

Celia Rivenbark

#10. Champagne's funny stuff. I'm used to whiskey. Whiskey is a slap on the back, and champagne's a heavy mist before my eyes.

James Stewart

#11. If I do want to wear a little bit of makeup, I really like a pink lip. There's one called Lip Mist in Pink Heather from Burberry that I love.

Suki Waterhouse

#12. I'd rather fake my own fog, than fake a steamy love scene. Can I interest you in some mist? It's homemade.

Jarod Kintz

#13. my love is a winter's mist
gently dissolving
through the window
at the nape of your neck.

Sanober Khan

#14. Maybe the heart is part of the mist.
And that's all that there is or could ever exist.
Maybe and maybe and maybe some more.
Maybe's the exit that I'm looking for.

Paul Simon

#15. A word drops into the mist
like a child's ball into high grass
where it remains seductively
flashing and glinting until
the gold bursts are revealed to be
simply field buttercups.
Word/mist, word/mist: thus it was with me.

Louise Gluck

#16. Being near him was like being in a cloud, making my vision blur and taking away some of reality's harshness with its mist.

Laurel Ulen Curtis

#17. Our inner self is part of the cosmic reality, hence it's in our nature to rise above the darkness and merge into the lightness of 'being'. (Page 92 - Songs of the Mist)

Shashi

#18. Silver is the best material we have. And silver has this wonderful shine like moonlight ... a light taken straight from a Danish summer's night. When covered by dew, silver can look like magical mist.

Georg Jensen

#19. We stop when we reach the top, climb out, shivering in the cold and ghostly mist under wind-blasted trees, to read the sign erected by the Public Works Department: "You have reached Trumseng La, Bhutan's highest road pass. Check Your Brakes. Bash On Regardless. Thank you."

Jamie Zeppa

#20. But until now I did not understand; everything was in a sort of mist. And I believe it all arose from believing that the brain is in the head. It's not so at all; it comes with the wind from the direction of the Caspian Sea.

Nikolai Gogol

#21. To glimpse one's own true nature is a kind of homegoing, to a place East of the Sun, West of the Moon - the homegoing that needs no home, like that waterfall on the upper Suli Gad that turns to mist before touching the earth and rises once again into the sky.

Peter Matthiessen

#22. What if I wrenched the steering wheel hard to the right and we went crashing into those mist-shrouded trees? Hell, Jane's hunkload of men would probably appear from nowhere to rescue us, throwing themselves in front of the car to protect my beautiful friend.

Tabi Wollstonecraft

#23. Don't, Mom." I begin walking toward her, but I can see the mist forming in her eyes. "No, no, no." By the time I reach her, it's too late. She's bawling. If there's one thing I can't stand, it's crying. Not because it makes me emotional, but because it annoys the hell out of me. And it's awkward.

Colleen Hoover

#24. The mist just keeps on lifting and soon I'll be able to see all the way, as far as the earth's curvature allows. It's a blessing, that curvature, that hidden hemisphere-if we could take it all in at one, why move?

Walter Kirn

#25. It's too easy, you see, to get trapped in the past. The past is very seductive. People always talk about the mists of time, you know, but really it's the present that's in a mist, uncertain. The past is quite clear, and warm, and comforting. That's why people often get stuck there.

Susanna Kearsley

#26. Hunch is your brain's way of taking a shortcut to the truth.'
'In small towns news travel at the speed of boredom'.

Carlos Luiz Zafon

#27. Is there anything more beautiful than gold?" - Freya's question.

Plain-thoughted Thor spoke. "A farm at first light
Is more beautiful than gold, or
A ship's sails in the mist.
Many ordinary things are far more beautiful.

George Webbe Dasent

#28. The most special times in a person's life are not meant to last forever. They're like bubbles rising from a plastic ring dipped into a soapy solution. The soap bubbles rise, with the sun flashing brilliant colors, then bursts into a showery memory mist.

Julius Thompson

#29. A chill December morning dawned, with rags and tatters of mist hanging on the trees like poor people's washing.

Ken Follett

#30. I am looking through a lace curtain at a dead man's feet. I am ten years old, the mist is rising on a fall morning in 1944 in Sawyer, Georgia, and I am standing on a front porch painted gray with white trim.

Anne Lovett

#31. It's sad to see Time's toothless mouth laughing the poets to scorn. The stars are all explained and the mist is all measured, and there is no magic left in this dreary world.

Mark Forsyth

#32. He loses himself in his own thoughts. Floats away, as if in a mist. He's never been the sort of man who does that, has never been a daydreamer, but lately it's as if something's twisted up in his head. He's having increasing difficulty concentrating on things. He doesn't like it at all.

Fredrik Backman

#33. Time was something that moved in fits and starts for Magnus, dissipating like mist or dragging like chains, but when Alec was here, Magnus's time seemed to fall into an easy rhythm with Alec's, like two heartbeats falling into sync.

Cassandra Clare

#34. Woman, I've crushed more Campbells than ye'll ever know, and Ill go to my grave with a Campbell's heart clutched within my fingers."

"Will that heart be mine, my laird?"

"It might.

Paula Quinn

#35. Tyler studied him over his coffee. "From what I've seen so far you're not much of a time-waster.
And you're not so bad, for a suit."
With a half-laugh, David lifted his own coffee. Steam from it rose and merged with the mist.
"Coming from you, that's a hell of a kudo."
"Damn right.

Nora Roberts

#36. He was standing on the pavement outside Nick Farthing's house, his face damp from the thick night mist.

Neil Gaiman

#37. He danced the way he made love, with passion and tenderness and spirit, communicating with hands and eyes the most subtle messages, tenderly making up for Lila's awkwardness. In his lashes and his hair, mist clung in tiny diamond drops. She could not take her eyes from him.

Ruth Wind

#38. Her boarders are so hard and bright that these lumpy things are being blinded just by looking at her; she's opaque, she's impermeable, she's a million densities and dimensions more real than any of them. They break against her and roll off like mist.

Tana French

#39. Depression feels a bit like that, it creeps in on you and settles, until you think it'll never lift, but in time it always does. That's why it's so tragic if people don't reach out to anyone when they feel low, because if they do, the mist will usually lift in the end.

Sita Brahmachari

#40. Coraline tried drawing the mist. After ten minutes of drawing she still had a white sheet of paper with "MIST" written on it one corner in slightly wiggly letters. She grunted and passed it to her mother.
"Mm. Very modern, dear," said Coraline's mother.

Neil Gaiman

#41. They've got to have backups on the cloud, or the mist, or whatever it's called.

Penny Reid

#42. Bloomberg weighed three hundred pounds. This itself was historical. I revered his weight. It was an affirmation of humanity's reckless potential; it went beyond legend and returned through mist to the lovely folly of history. To weigh three hundred pounds. What devout vulgarity.

Don DeLillo

#43. the ocean mist
engulfs me, like a lifetime's
friendship honored.

Sanober Khan

#44. I used to have this toy, a magic slate. You wrote or drew on it and then, just by pulling up the plastic cover, everything you did disappeared and you could start new. Maybe everyone feels that on New Year's Eve: They can pull up the magic sheet and rewrite their lives.

V.C. Andrews

#45. Now they looked like somebody had just sprayed their table with shit-mist. Nobody said a word. They ate quickly, and left without tipping. So

Hunter S. Thompson

#46. I couldn't find my balance until I stood out there in the mist of the morning and saw you. Simple as that for me, it seems. There she is, so my life's where it should be, whatever's going on around it.

J.D. Robb

#47. We twain have met like the ships upon the sea, Who behold an hour's converse, so short, so sweet: One little hour! and then, away they speed On lonely paths, through mist, and cloud, and foam, To meet no more.

Alexander Smith

#48. The honeymoon is the unforgettable period in a couple's life. Later in life, tried and tired in the dust and mist of relations, together or not, they would always miss that time they spent together. Every bit of it.

Girdhar Joshi

#49. He was sure now that they'd never known each other before the Grand Canyon. Their relationship was just a trick of the Mist in Piper's mind. But the longer he spent with her, the more he wished it had been real.

Rick Riordan

#50. Thing to act. Act with thought. -The Pythian Scrolls.
Through the Oracle's Mist

Aedan Byrnes

#51. watching trails of mist swirl about your legs, which reminds you of a neighbor's gray kitten that arches its back, puffs up, and rubs against your ankles.

Shane Jiraiya Cummings

#52. They dared not peer down into their own natures, down into the feverish confusion that filled their minds with a kind of dense, acrid mist.

Emile Zola

#53. The pathway traced with blood and tears,
and dust of all our father's dead,
Whose backward footsteps, wandering, red,
Fade to the mist of nameless years.
("The Testimony of the Suns")

George Sterling

#54. You take the bad with the good, Rise up through it. Live in the mist of it. It's the bad that lets you know ho good the good really is. Don't let the bad leave you thinking like there ain't any good. There is, and lots of it, too.

Charles Martin

#55. Philosophers have argued without a trend toward order; time would lack meaning. The future would be indistinguishable from the past. Sequences of events would be just so many random scenes from a thousand novels. History would be indistinct, like the mist slowly gathered by treetops in evening.

Alan Lightman

#56. A bit of mist and light suffice for life to overpower nothingness. A bit of hope and time suffice for you to cross the mountain trails of myth; you were spared the fate of your ancestors. So borrow the wisdom of the anemones and say: Nothingness does not concern me, even if death besieges me.

Mahmoud Darwish

#57. He was overwhelmed by the love he felt for her; tears filled his eyes and the ache in his throat ran deep into his chest. He ran down the hill to the river, through the light rain until th pain faded like fog mist. He stood and watched the rainy dawn, and he knew he would find her again.

Leslie Marmon Silko

#58. The mountain remains unmoved at seeming defeat by the mist.

Rabindranath Tagore

#59. Rome in the ages, dimmed with all her towers, / Floats in the mist, a little cloud at tether.

Alice Meynell

#60. Puff, the Magic Dragon, lived by the sea, and frolicked in the Autumn Mist in a land called Honah Lee, little Jacky Paper loved that rascal Puff, and gave him strings and sealing wax and other fancy stuff.

Peter Yarrow

#61. We no longer view the world through the dim mist of justice and reward, but through the bright lens of resurrection, where suffering leads to glory and slaughtered lambs rule the earth.

Preston Sprinkle

#62. The bitter pinecone may be eaten, The mist on high give nourishment. The whole world takes to go-and-getting; My way alone is difficult.

Du Fu

#63. In Paris, women were not considered interesting until they were middle-aged. The Mist of Montmartre

Peggy Kopman-Owens

#64. Night came. The moon was entering her first quarter, and her insufficient light would soon die out in the mist on the horizon. Clouds were rising from the east, and already overcast a part of the heavens.

Jules Verne

#65. Take your materials from what is around you - if you see a dandelion, write about that; if it's misty, write about the mist. The materials for poetry are all about you in profusion.

Masaoka Shiki

#66. He who aims to forecast fog, will have mist.

Logan

#67. There is a low mist in the woods
It is a good day to study lichens.

Henry David Thoreau

#68. The whole east was flecked With flashing streaks and shafts of amethyst, While a light crimson mist Went up before the mounting luminary, And all the strips of cloud began to vary Their hues, and all the zenith seemed to ope As if to show a cope beyond the cope!

Epes Sargent

#69. It was inestimably important for me to look at the lights of Amherst town in the rain, with the wet black tree-skeletons against the limpid streetlights and gray November mist, and then look at the boy beside me and feel all the hurting beauty go flat because he wasn't the right one-not at all.

Sylvia Plath

#70. The seat of the Celtic Muse is in the mist of the secret and solitary hill, and her voice in the murmur of the mountain stream.

Walter Scott

#71. We are gathered here at the end of what Bradbury called the October Country: a state of mind as much as it is a time. All the harvests are in, the frost is on the ground, there's mist in the crisp night air and it's time to tell ghost stories.

Neil Gaiman

#72. We all have two lives: The true, the one we dreamed of in childhood And go on dreaming of as adults in a substratum of mist; the false, the one we love when we live with others, the practical, the useful, the one we end up by being put in a coffin.

Fernando Pessoa

#73. We must give ourselves more credit for miracles that do happen within and around us than calling it as coincidence. (Page 96)

Shashi

#74. What makes us human is not only the fact that we suffer, but also because we aspire to be happy." - Ashutosh in the Book "Songs of the Mist

Shashi

#75. Suddenly a mist fell from my eyes and I knew the way I had to take.

Edvard Grieg

#76. We call those poets who are first to mark, Through earth's dull mist the coming of the dawn, Who see in twilight's gloom the first pale spark, While others only note that day is gone.

Oliver Wendell Holmes

#77. Listen to the night wind in the trees, Listen to the summer grass singing; Listen to the time that's tripping by, And the dawn dew falling. Listen to the moon as it climbs the sky, Listen to the pebbles humming; Listen to the mist in the trembling leaves, And the silence calling.

Ruskin Bond

#78. Good threat," the woman chuckled. "Here's mine: you've got about twenty minutes to hightail it over to Venetian before your brother becomes a memory wrote in pink mist. Toodles.

Daniel Younger

#79. So, on the eastern summit, clad in gray, morn, like a horseman girt for travel, comes, and from his tower of mist night's watchman hurries down.

Henry Kirke White

#80. A mist rises from a nearby mound. It could be me, that mist, or simply the caretaker's mower-dust. If the breeze blows just right, I'll ghost your solid, entwine your hair. Promise me you won't shampoo, but carry me along, tiny dust-particles of me.

Chila Woychik

#81. I've worked with Frank [Darabont] on two collaborations, The Majestic with Jim Carrey and Stephen King's The Mist.

Laurie Holden

#82. Fear is just like mist. Don't let it disorient you from living outside God's palm. Acknowledge it, then take any one step in any one direction ... and repeat.

Erica Goros

#83. You black dog!" A red mist of fury swept across Conan's eyes. "Were I free I'd give you a broken back!

Robert E. Howard

#84. It only seems scarey' Klaus said, as if reading his sister's thoughts, 'because of the mist.

Lemony Snicket

#85. Time blunts the pain and creates a mist over one's memory - at least in the case of death and sorrow. Other types of pain linger longer.

Melanie Dickerson

#86. When it's the stupidest, most difficult thing that could happen" - Suzanne looked up, mist glistening in her eyes - "and you still want to do it. Then you know it's really love.

Sheila Athens

#87. All of [the] activities here have a surreptitious end-of-the-world feel to them: ... these joggers sleepwalking in the mist like shadow's who have escaped from Plato's cave

Jean Baudrillard

#88. Unless God's Word illumine the way, the whole life of men is wrapped in darkness and mist, so that they cannot but miserably stray.

John Calvin

#89. Yes, I am a prisoner of sorts, but my prison isn't the house. It's my own thoughts that lock me up!

V.C. Andrews

#90. The issue isn't whether he loved you, it's how much. Too much. Love can be poison

Sarah J. Maas

#91. They talked about God. They had no picture in their minds of some mist steaming upward: rather of strong, skillful hands thrust down to make, and mend, perhaps even to destroy.

C.S. Lewis

#92. Night doesn't fall in Rome; it rises from the city's heart, from the gloomy little alleys and courtyards where the sun never gets much more than a brief look-in, and then, like the mist from the Tiber, it creeps over the rooftops and spreads up into the hills.

Caroline Llewellyn

#93. The wood lay still. The air throbbed with insects, and flies hovered and disappeared and hovered. Meadowsweet grew in a mist of flowers, and the sun glinted on the threads of caterpillars which hung from the trees as thick as rain. "By," said Gwyn, "there's axiomatic.

Alan Garner

#94. All in November's soaking mist We stand and prune the naked tree, While all our love and interest Seem quenched in the blue-nosed misery.

Ruth Pitter

#95. Hush little owl,
You're with Twi.
I got the moves to get you by.
Big bad crows.
St. Aggie's scamps
Ain't got nothin to show the champ.
I'll pop a spiral
With a twist,
Do a three-sixty
And scatter mist

Kathryn Lasky

#96. It is where the balance quivers, and the proportions are veiled in mist, that the opportunity for world-saving decisions presents itself.

Winston S. Churchill

#97. Here's what I think," says Jasmine between chattering teeth. "If these humans are stupid enough to go hiking in this - " she gestures to the thick mist swirling around us '-then they deserve to be led into a marsh and drowned.

Rachel Morgan

#98. Bleeding, idleness and mist, he murmured in an unusual mood of poetry.
It's like life, isn't it...
First the wound, then the resting, and then the uncertainty of it all.

Leon Garfield

#99. It's better not to make a promise than to make one you can't keep.

V.C. Andrews

#100. A lot of people are like, "You're doing commercials?" And I honestly feel like those Sierra Mist commercials are better than a lot of sitcoms I get offered. It's hard work, and I'm paid a lot of money, and I do it because I love the soda.

Jim Gaffigan