What is ominous is the ease with which some people go from saying that they don't like something to saying that the government should forbid it. When you go down that road, don't expect freedom to survive very long.
For an idea ever to be fashionable is ominous, since it must afterwards be always old fashioned
The past is an old armchair in the attic, the present an ominous ticking sound, and the future is anybody's guess.
Sometimes fate is like a small sandstorm that keeps changing directions. You change direction but the sandstorm chases you. You turn again, but the storm adjusts.
Never has good weather felt so bad. Never have flowers inspired so much fear. Never has the warm caress of a sunbeam seemed so ominous. The weather is sublime, it's glorious, it's the end of the world.
Mainstream politicians will continue to protect existing systems of power, corporate executives will continue to maximize profit without concern, and the majority of people will continue to avoid these questions. It’s the job of people with critical sensibilities—those who consistently speak out for justice and sustainability, even when it’s difficult—not to back away just because the world has grown more ominous.
Every crime has, in the moment of its perpetration, Its own avenging angel-dark misgiving, An ominous sinking at the inmost heart.
In order to go on with our lives, we are always capable of making the ominous into the merely strange.
To justify and extol human greed and egotism is to my mind not only immoral, but evil.
And see ominous clouds of inferiority beginning to form in her little mental sky.
The most ominous of fallacies - the belief that things can be kept static by inaction
Materialism has never been so ominous as now in North America, as management takes over.
It began as most thing begin. Not on a dark and stormy night. Not foreshadowed by ominous here comes the villain music, dire warning at the bottom of a teacup, or dread portents in the sky. It began small and innocuously, as most catastrophes do. A butterfly flaps its wings somewhere and the wind changes, and a warm front hits a cold front off the coast of western Africa and before you know it you’ve got an hurricane closing in. By the time anyone figured out the storm was coming, it was too late to do anything but batten down the hatches and exercise damage control.
Fate is like a small sandstorm that keeps changing directions. You change direction but the sandstorm chases you. You turn again, but the storm adjusts. Over and over you play this out, like some ominous dance with death just before dawn. Why? Because this storm isn't something that blew in from far away, something that has nothing to do with you. This storm is you. Something inside of you. So all you can do is give in to it, step right inside the storm, closing your eyes and plugging up your ears so the sand doesn't get in, and walk through it, step by step.
The Earth swirls down through the ominous moons of preconsidered generations.
Something deathless and dangerous in the world sweeps past you...It is something fearful and ominous, something turbulent and to be dreaded, which distends the drama to include the life of nations as well as of men. It is an ageless warning.
Under the ominous shadow which the second World War and its attendant circumstances have cast on the world, peace has become as essential to civilized existence as the air we breathe is to life itself.
Americans have discovered the fragility of life, that ominous fragility that the rest of the world either already experienced or is experiencing now with terrible intensity.
I like to think that I'm not as ominous in real life.
Animals like crows, owls or black cats are not ominous at all; it is the men's superstitious mind which is the inauspicious one!
"Foreboding" and "ominous" is what you're striving to achieve-not mention.
Correct becomes defect. Good becomes ominous. People's delusions have certainly lasted long.
Filling life exceedingly is called ominous.
Why do waiting rooms have to be so ominous?
Raoden turned to regard the large Dula. "What does it matter? It's not like we have anything pressing to do. It's actually quite pleasant up here—you should just sit back and enjoy it." An ominous crash came from the clouds above them, and Raoden felt a wet drop splat against his head. "Fantastic," Galladon grumbled. "I'm enjoying myself already.
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