Mist Quotes - Page 9

• We desperately need seers who can see through the mist- Christian leaders with prophetic vision.  Unless they come soon it will be too late for this generation.  And if they do come we will no doubt crucify a few of them in the name of our worldly orthodoxy.

  Aiden Wilson Tozer

  Christian, Names, Leader

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• In my state of spiritual abstraction, I no longer belong to myself and to my eyesight. I am nothing more than a single narrow gasping lung, floating over the mists and summits.

  Reinhold Messner

  Spiritual, Floating, States

  Reinhold Messner (2001). “Moving Mountains: Lessons on Life and Leadership”, Executive Excellence Publishing

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• Out of the mists of our long oppression, / We bring love for ourselves and each other, / And love for the gifts we bear, /So heavy and so painful the fashioning of them, /So long the road given us to travel them. A separate people, /We bring a gift to celebrate each other, /’Tis a gift to be gay! / Feel the pride of it!

  Harry Hay

  Gay, Pride, Long

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• A landscape, torn by mists and clouds, in which I can see ruins of old churches, as well as of Greek temples - that is Brahms.

  Edvard Grieg

  Clouds, Greek, Church

  Edvard Grieg, Finn Benestad (2000). “Letters to colleagues and friends”, Peer Gynt Pr

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• Sometimes at night I think that my husband is with me again, coming gently through the mists, and we are tranquil together. Then the morning comes, the wavering grey turns to gold, there is stirring within me as the sleepers awake, and he softly departs.

  Kamala Markandaya

  Morning, Husband, Night

  Kamala Markandaya (1954). “Nectar in a Sieve: A Novel”

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• Before our globe had become egg-shaped or round it was a long trail of cosmic dust or fire-mist, moving and writhing like a serpent. This, say the explanations, was the Spirit of God moving on the chaos until its breath had incubated cosmic matter and made it assume the annular shape of a serpent with its tail in its month--emblem of eternity in its spiritual and of our world in its physical sense.

  Manly Hall

  Spiritual, Moving, Dust

  Manly Palmer Hall (2005). “Secret Teachings of All Ages”, p.232, Lulu.com

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• The heart sags. My footprints forget me.
  I don’t think anything will ever be the same.
  This is the edge of the cliff and you can’t move,
  can’t jump. Everything is vertical. With binoculars
  you can see where you’ll be in an hour. Raindrops
  collect on the lens. A fine mist. It hides us.
  It drifts into clocks. Gravity presses your hands.
  Some hurts never get said. Some get smuggled.

  Richard Jackson

  Hurt, Moving, Heart

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• The best therapy for emotional blocks to math is the realization that the human race took centuries or millennia to see through the mist of difficulties and paradoxes which instructors now invite us to solve in a few minutes.

  Lancelot Hogben

  Block, Math, Emotional

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• There had been a frozen mist here, and the trees were spun into feathers. Their fragile brilliance made me wonder why, into the spotlessness of Creation, God had seen fit to introduce soiling, twisting, rampaging, Man.

  Maria McCann

  Men, Tree, Frozen

  Maria McCann (2010). “The Wilding”, p.263, Faber & Faber

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• The idea of immortality, that like a sea has ebbed and flowed in the human heart, with its countless waves of hope and fear, beating against the shores and rocks of time and fate, was not born of any book, nor of any creed, nor of any religion. It was born of human affection, and it will continue to ebb and flow beneath the mists and clouds of doubt and darkness as long as love kisses the lips of death. It is the rainbow -- Hope shining upon the tears of grief.

  Robert Green Ingersoll

  Grief, Book, Heart

  Robert Green Ingersoll, Clinton P. Farrell (1900). “The Works of Robert G. Ingersoll: Discussions”

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• 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

  Summer, Taken, Night

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• The electron, as it leaves the atom, crystallises out of Schrodinger's mist like a genie emerging from his bottle.

  Arthur Eddington

  Science, Atoms, Bottles

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• Sometimes I think with the telephone that if I concentrate enough I could pour myself into it and I'd be turned into a mist and I would rematerialize in the room of the person I'm talking to. Is that too odd for you?

  Nicholson Baker

  Thinking, Talking, Rooms

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• I close my eyes and can see men drawing lines in the dust. America pushes through the membrane of mist and smoke, and I'm a small boy again in Bogalusa.

  Yusef Komunyakaa

  Eye, Men, Boys

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• The lonely season in lonely lands, when fled Are half the birds, and mists lie low, and the sun Is rarely seen, nor strayeth far from his bed; The short days pass unwelcomed one by one.

  Robert Bridges

  Lonely, Lying, Land

  Elkin Mathews, Laurence Binyon, Robert Bridges, Mary Elizabeth Coleridge, Richard Watson Dixon (1897). “Garland of New Poetry”

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• How beautiful is night! A dewy freshness fills the silent air; No mist obscures, nor cloud, nor speck, nor stain, Breaks the serene of heaven.

  Robert Southey

  Beautiful, Night, Clouds

  Robert Southey (1829). “Poetical works”, p.89

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• At length corruption, like a general flood (So long by watchful ministers withstood), Shall deluge all; and avarice, creeping on, Spread like a low-born mist, and blot the sun.

  Alexander Pope

  Long, Sun, Corruption

  Alexander Pope (1856). “The Poetical Works of Alexander Pope”, p.26

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• 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

  Lonely, Sweet, Clouds

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• I think a new world will arise out of the religious mists when we approach our Bible with the idea that it is not only a book which was once spoken, but a book which is now speaking.

  Aiden Wilson Tozer

  Religious, Book, Thinking

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• I lament the want of a liberal education. I feel the mist of ignorance to surround me - Nathanael Greene

  David McCullough

  Ignorance, Want, Feels

  David McCullough (2011). “David McCullough Library E-book Box Set: 1776, Brave Companions, The Great Bridge, John Adams, The Johnstown Flood, Mornings on Horseback, Path Between the Seas, Truman, The Course of Human Events”, p.24, Simon and Schuster

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• How do the stems connect to the roots?' 'Where is the mist coming from?' 'Why does one tree seem darker than another?' These questions are implicitly asked and answered in the process of sketching.

  Alain de Botton

  Roots, Tree, Doe

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• We plant our roots in trembling earth, we live where mountains rose and fell and prehistoric seas burned away in mist. We and the towns we have built are not permanent; the earth itself is a passing train.

  Robert R. McCammon

  Sea, Roots, Rose

  Robert R. McCammon (2011). “Boy's Life”, p.122, Open Road Media

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• 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

  Giving, Solitude, World

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• The one and only formative power given to man Is thought. By his thinking he not only makes character, but body and affairs, for as he thinketh within himself, so is he. Prejudice is a mist, which in our journey through the world often dims the brightest and obscures the best of all the good and glorious objects that meet us on our way.

  Anthony Ashley-Cooper, 7th Earl of Shaftesbury

  Character, Journey, Men

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• Midsummer Night was roasting hot. The shore, of red granite, glowed with the heat; the dark blood of the earth seemed to be rising from below. There was a sharp, unbearable smell of birds, of cod, of green decaying seaweed. Through the mist the huge ruddy sun loomed nearer and nearer. And in the sea, dark blood welled up to meet it - in bloated, rearing, huge white waves. Night. The mouth of the bay between two cliffs was like a window. A window shutting out curious eyes with a white shade-white woolly fog. And all that you could see was that behind it something red was happening. (The North)

  Yevgeny Zamyatin

  Eye, Dark, Night

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