Foggy Weather Quotes

The weather and my mood have little connection. I have my foggy and my fine days within me; my prosperity or misfortune has little to do with the matter.

Don't you like a rather foggy day in a wood in autumn? You'll find we shall be perfectly warm sitting in the car." Jane said she'd never heard of anyone liking fogs before but she didn't mind trying. All three got in. "That's why Camilla and I got married, "said Denniston as they drove off. "We both like Weather. Not this or that kind of weather, but just Weather. It's a useful taste if one lives in England." "How ever did you learn to do that, Mr. Denniston?" said Jane. "I don't think I should ever learn to like rain and snow." "It's the other way round," said Denniston. "Everyone begins as a child by liking Weather. You learn the art of disliking it as you grow up. Noticed it on a snowy day? The grown-ups are all going about with long faces, but look at the children - and the dogs? They know what snow's made for." "I'm sure I hated wet days as a child," said Jane. "That's because the grown-ups kept you in," said Camilla. "Any child loves rain if it's allowed to go out and paddle about in it.

The fog is a magician who performs the art of erasing things without actually erasing them!

If you want to see what the fog hides in itself, don't wait for the fog to disperse! Instead of waiting for something to happen in this short life, do something immediately! Enter the fog!

If you are a very famous person, the best weather for you will be the foggy weather! It will hide you from the people and it will give you the great joy of being no one!

This modesty in a sect is perhaps a singular instance in the history of mankind, every other sect supposing itself in possession of all truth, and that those who differ are so far in the wrong; like a man traveling in foggy weather, those at some distance before him on the road he sees wrapped up in the fog, as well as those behind him, and also the people in the fields on each side, but near him all appears clear, tho' in truth he is as much in the fog as any of them.

The weather and my mood have little connection. I have my foggy and my fine days within me.

Inevitable pickup trucks complete with full gun racks, chainsaws, fishing poles, and big, sneering dogs in the back, line the streets and parking lots. Meek murmur of autumn skies, Ford and Chevy outfits to roll through town, as people get ready for a long, gray, foggy winter, big, four-wheel-drive pickups with snow blades attached, the box loaded down, with a high stack of cordwood topped by a huge elk carcass, to go disheartened in the midst of wretched weather, cold, raw, continually snowing.

That particular April day was strange and foggy, blurring spaces between the trees and blanketing all of Ellingham in a milky mist. Dottie decided that the weather lent itself to a mystery. Sherlock Holmes would be perfect.

Not how well you see in a clear weather but how well you see in a foggy weather determines how better you are than others!

If I could decide on the weather, there would be many foggy mornings and dark days full of wind, rain, snow and cold... all this for you would be your last burden of my selfishness.

February Soup by Stewart Stafford The February fog, Turns all into blobs, Orange street lights, To Valentine's Night. When the wind strays, Fog's mantle is grey, Laying misty bouquets, On barren, muddied days. The daffodils of March, Can cheer up Plutarch, Adorned in Kelly green, No sign of foggy screens. © Stewart Stafford, 2023. All rights reserved.

Why does the fog behave like this, what's wrong with this mysterious creature? Why does he want to make everything invisible? Maybe he's trying to tell us something: Hey you humans, you think you're strong but you can disappear in seconds!

who differ are so far in the wrong; like a man traveling in foggy weather, those at some distance before him on the road he sees wrapped up in the fog, as well as those behind him, and also the people in the fields on each side, but near him all appears clear, tho' in truth he is as much in the fog as any of them.

You don’t have to go to the far corners of the earth to live the mystery; if the weather is foggy in your street, that mysterious far places come to you!

When a foggy mind enters the fog, it doesn't understand that it enters the fog!

An empty and quiet street, a rainy night, a bit of fog, is the ideal time to return to the ghosts of the city!

Fog is not mysterious, fog is the mystery itself!

She is foggy weather, when the air gets so close you can feel it around you like a skin. She is the crowds flowing around Trafalgar Square with their own purpose and predictability that is comforting. She is the smell of the sea air unexpectedly coming from the south, bringing the sting of salt to the city. She is an unexpected reminder of where I stand in the world.

The third-class funeral is a shabby one and costs only a hundred dollars. The weather is cold and foggy. The coffin has no catafalque. There are two horses and two reverends. Not a carriage in sight.

If the weather is sunny, it is good; if the weather is rainy, it is good; if it is foggy, it is good; if it is stormy, it is good; if it is damn cold, it is good; if it is damn hot, it is good! With a positive attitude of mind, all becomes good!

Once upon a time—of all the good days in the year, on Christmas Eve—old Scrooge sat busy in his counting-house. It was cold, bleak, biting weather: foggy withal: and he could hear the people in the court outside go wheezing up and down, beating their hands upon their breasts, and stamping their feet upon the pavement stones to warm them.

In the country, a good he-snowstorm makes a lovely design for putting on a holiday greetings card. In the city it just makes an infernal mess for the street-cleaning department to wrestle with. … By midday of next day it would be licked to a custard— molten into puddles of foggy slush where cellar furnaces exhaled their hot breath up out of sidewalk gratings, roiled and fouled and crunched down beneath the heels and the tires of the town, flung up in crumply billows by the conscripted shovel crews, and under the park trees and on the park meadows would show a stark and grayish cast like the face of a grimy pauper whose corpse the undertaker scanted. And the longer it stayed there the sootier and the dirtier and the deader-looking it would get to be. You may worry the city with your winter weathers; you cannot keep her licked for any great length of time.

This modesty in a sect is perhaps a singular instance in the history of mankind, every other sect supposing itself in possession of all truth, and that those who differ are so far in the wrong; like a man traveling in foggy weather, those at some distance before him on the road he sees wrapped up in the fog, as well as those behind him, and also the people in the fields on each side, but near him all appears clear, tho' in truth he is as much in the fog as any of them. To avoid this kind of embarrassment, the Quakers have of late years been gradually declining the public service in the Assembly and in the magistracy, choosing rather to quit their power than their principle. In order of time, I should have mentioned before, that having, in 1742, invented an open stove [84] for the better warming of rooms, and at the same time saving fuel, as the fresh air admitted was warmed in entering, I made a present of the model to Mr. Robert Grace, one of my early friends, who, having an iron-furnace, [85] found the casting of the plates for these stoves a profitable thing, as they were growing in demand. To promote that demand, I wrote and published a pamphlet, entitled "An Account of the new-invented Pennsylvania Fireplaces; wherein their Construction and Manner of Operation is particularly explained; their Advantages above every other Method of warming Rooms demonstrated; and all Objections that have been raised against the Use of them answered and obviated," etc. This pamphlet had a good effect. Gov'r. Thomas was so pleas'd with the construction of this stove, as described in it, that he offered to give me a patent for the sole vending of them for a term of years; but I declin'd it from a principle which has ever weighed with me on such occasions, viz., That, as we enjoy great advantages from the inventions of others, we should be glad of an opportunity to serve others by any invention of ours; and this we should do freely and generously.

As well,” he continued, “don’t you like a rather foggy day in a wood in autumn? You’ll find we shall be perfectly warm sitting in the car.” Jane said she’d never heard of anyone liking fogs before but she didn’t mind trying. All three got in. “That’s why Camilla and I got married,” said Denniston as they drove off. “We both like Weather. Not this or that kind of weather, but just Weather. It’s a useful taste if one lives in England.” “How ever did you learn to do that, Mr. Denniston?” said Jane. “I don’t think I should ever learn to like rain and snow.” “It’s the other way round,” said Denniston. “Everyone begins as a child by liking Weather. You learn the art of disliking it as you grow up. Haven’t you ever noticed it on a snowy day? The grown-ups are all going about with long faces, but look at the children—and the dogs? They know what snow’s made for.” “I’m sure I hated wet days as a child,” said Jane. “That’s because the grown-ups kept you in,” said Camilla. “Any child loves rain if it’s allowed to go out and paddle about in it.

When it clears tomorrow, I’m sure we’ll all be in better fettle.” “Clears?” Strath snorted. “You obviously don’t know Scotland. Our weather is rainy, misty, foggy, hazy, icy, and—for two weeks every year, whether we deserve it or not—sunny.

When the weather is bright everyone can see everything in the Valley of Life; the talent is to see the unseen when The Valley is foggy!

Sometimes you enter a dense fog on the road you are traveling! What should you do? Very simple! Take a break from the journey, wait calmly, the fog will be dispersed!

Fog can cover anything, anything except itself!

The night is dark, the weather is windy, the road is foggy, the ground is snowy, the environment is spooky, and the bends are scary! Here is a great road for you, a road worth traveling! Fall down, get up, get stuck in the snow, and get out of the snow. If you want to go a long way in this chaotic universe, you need to be a student in a school like this road!

Cathedral of Light by Stewart Stafford The wintry grey forest branches, Embrace freezing fog as build, Backlit by the pushy noon sun, Revealing a cathedral of light. An air frost of transient structure, Reprieve from a hangman's bloom, Naked limbs greeted the icy cover, The looming cape of ersatz foliage. Tongues of wind scatter the pop-up, Six sheep in a straight line saw it off, A still and sunny afternoon followed, Frozen matinee fades another day. © Stewart Stafford, 2023. All rights reserved.

Taxonomically the bora and mistral are katabatic (downhill) winds, found anywhere that cold mountain air can make a steep escape to ground. Wind names in the Mediterranean derive largely from geography. Llevantade has roots in the Spanish verb llevar (to rise) and is one in a family of winds that originate from the east. Poniente means west in Spanish and denotes fair breezes that blow in off the Atlantic, funneling through the Strait of Gibraltar. The sirocco is drawn up from Africa, a gritty inhalation that grows wet and foggy on a diet of evaporated water as it makes its way north. Microparticles of airborne sand form nuclei for condensation, bringing tiny bits of the Sahara down with the rain onto Europe. The sirocco is called the arifi (thirsty) in Libya, and the jugo (south) in Croatia. I posit that we are experiencing the Mediterranean’s unnamed breeze, the nonwind. “Ah, yes,” she replies. “El sin viento.

It was a miserable journey, with everyone lined up on deck wearing lifebelts in case we were torpedoed — this apparently being a favourite pastime of U-boats in foggy weather. But nothing happened.

Pilgrim’s Progress by Stewart Stafford Solitary steps in silence grim, As waters lapped the lakeside’s rim, In our time, before and aft, Magpies cackled, crows laughed. I drew level with a miasmic curtain, In vapour folds, to views uncertain, Sound grew thick in compensation, I took each step with trepidation. Sweet breath wind, fog dispersed, Marvelling at the ground traversed, The garden path to a shelter trite, As hailstones on my windows bite. © Stewart Stafford, 2024. All rights reserved.

Sometimes you need thick fog, yes fog is definitely a need; it wraps you up and isolate you from this world! You and the universe are left alone, there is a silence, you think about things you couldn't think of before, and you see things you couldn't see before! The fog is a journey both to oneself and to the universe. Fog is very strange because it stimulates both thoughts and non-thinking; like the pendulum of a clock, you oscillate between thinking and not thinking!

Some people get lost in completely sunny weather and some people don't get lost in the thickest fog!

THE ARIZONA WAS scheduled to return to Bremerton, Washington, in late November for an overhaul in their shipyard. We were all looking forward to it. It meant we would get to spend December in the States, celebrate Christmas there, maybe even be given leave to go home. In October, though, those plans abruptly changed. We were on maneuvers from October 18 to 26, and the weather was foggy and rainy almost the entire time. The schedule had been stepped up during that month. None of the officers told us why. We wondered what they knew that we didn’t. Of course, we didn’t ask. They added zigzag maneuvers—timed turns made in unison with other ships—to the normal routine of target practice. They were evasive moves to be used if submarines were in the area or whenever she was in range of an enemy’s big guns.

He who gives you many dreams is a great master, and the foggy weather is such a master!

There is always a Cape Horn in one's life that one either weathers or wrecks oneself on." It's terribly true; and the trouble is that you can't always recognize your Cape Horn when you see it. The sailing is sometimes pretty foggy, and you're wrecked before you know it.