Heavy Fog Quotes

Heavy fog is a weird guide! If you go on a journey with him, it takes you from nowhere and leaves you at nowhere! ~ Mehmet Murat Ildan

There are too many things around us, preventing us from thinking well! To think well, sometimes we need a heavy fog! ~ Mehmet Murat Ildan

In a country where people are not educated well, there exist no horizons, there is only a heavy fog! ~ Mehmet Murat Ildan

You know what the future is? It is a heavy fog which hides inside everything you can imagine! ~ Mehmet Murat Ildan

God raised Christ up to the highest position possible. Jesus is now our great high King, and we should not allow anyone to take His place in our lives, usurping His Throne room in our hearts, and minds! ~ Brother Billy

Just as a flood-lighted temple is more beautiful in a severe storm or in a heavy fog, so the gospel of Jesus Christ is more glorious in times of inward storm and of personal sorrow and tormenting conflict. ~ Harold B. Lee

And Jesus began to say to them, "See to it that no one misleads you. Many will come in My name, saying, 'I am He!' and will mislead many."

Here Christ cautions His present and future disciples from being misled, meaning not to be deceived, caused to err from the truth, or lead to form a wrong judgment. It is important for us to note that we can be deceived if we heed deceivers, instead of Christ Jesus. Many claim and will claim to know Him, but will point us to themselves, to traditions, to lies, and anything instead of to Christ! We must be careful. ~ Billy Witt

A perfect silence blanketed the floor like a heavy fog. The ~ Haruki Murakami

You must also realize that the stuff of excellence-truth, real scientific truth-can be elusive ... It is too often covered by the heavy fog of fear and hidden by the darkness of your detractors. ~ Daniel Goldin

Precision is easier to master than artful vagueness, especially now when, thanks to Google, novels are fact-heavy. We no longer refer to "flowers" but to particular varieties of roses. The whole valuable distinction between foreground (precise) and background (blurred) has been lost, and now everything is crowding toward the viewer, clamoring for attention. ~ Edmund White

It is no coincidence then that doctors and patients and the entire Lyme community report - anecdotally, of course, as there is still a frustrating scarcity of good data on anything Lyme-related - that women suffer the most from Lyme. They tend to advance into chronic and late-stage forms of the illness most because often it's checked for last, as doctors often treat them as psychiatric cases first. The nebulous symptoms plus the fracturing of articulacy and cognitive fog can cause any Lyme patient to simply appear mentally ill and mentally ill only. This is why we hear that young women - again, anecdotally - are dying of Lyme the fastest. This is also why we hear that chronic illness is a women's burden. Women simply aren't allowed to be physically sick until they are mentally sick, too, and then it is by some miracle or accident that the two can be separated for proper diagnosis. In the end, every Lyme patient has some psychiatric diagnosis, too, if anything because of the hell it takes getting to a diagnosis. ~ Porochista Khakpour

Win's phone rang. He picked it up and said, "Articulate. Okay, put it through." Two seconds later he handed the phone to Myron. "For me?" Myron asked. Win gave him flat eyes. "No," he said. "I'm handing you the phone because it's too heavy for me." Everyone's a wiseass. ~ Harlan Coben

The first building she reached appeared to be an old barn. Only one young guard stood before its bolted door, staring at her with wide eyes, holding up his sword in defense, She heated his sword and he dropped it, his expression barely changing, as if he had been expecting that. She held up her two swords to his throat, but they were two heavy, so she dropped one and held the other with both hands. "Where are the two Bayern boys kept?" The soldier shook his head. BURN HIM, prompted the fire. The excitement of burning was simmering in her, heating her up for more action. ~ Shannon Hale

I am for an art that imitates the human, that is comic, if necessary, or violent, or whatever is necessary. I am for an art that takes its form from the lines of life itself, that twists and extends and accumulates and spits and drips, and is heavy and coarse and blunt and sweet and stupid as life itself. ~ Claes Oldenburg

But even as he surged up, Tom dug in, using his body's position to hold Prophet to the ground, his knees pressing Prophet's thighs together. "You're going to want me to open my legs," Prophet murmured against his cheek once Tom broke the kiss and was concentrating on biting Prophet's earlobe. "And you'll do it for me," Tom drawled, his breath warm against Prophet's cheek, his hips a slow, steady rock, forcing their clothed cocks to rub together. "Jesus, that's good." "Fucker," Prophet grunted, Tom's heavy weight grounding him. "You've been practicing." "Practicing fighting you or fucking you?" Tom held Prophet's wrists immobile with one hand and reached to pull his sweats down with the other. "You ~ S.E. Jakes

Oh that moment when Daniel thought he'd lost her to Cam's starshot! His wings hat felt too heavy to lift. Colder than death. In that instant , he'd given up all hope. ~ Lauren Kate

The borderline between prose and poetry is one of those fog-shrouded literary minefields where the wary explorer gets blown to bits before ever seeing anything clearly. It is full of barbed wire and the stumps of dead opinions. ~ Ursula K. Le Guin

Nobody can help. And the more I think about how nothing can be helped, the faster the fog rolls in.

And I'm glad when it gets thick enough you're lost in it and can let go, and be safe again. ~ Ken Kesey

There she stood, very pale and quiet, with her large grave eyes observing everything, - up to every present circumstance, however small. They could not understand how her heart was aching all the time, with a heavy pressure that no sighs could lift off or relieve, and how constant exertion for her perceptive faculties was the only way to keep herself from crying out with pain. ~ Elizabeth Gaskell

Without trees, mountains, fogs or rains, the Sun cannot create its own magic! ~ Mehmet Murat Ildan

Their souls are usually heavy and managerial. ~ Charles Baxter

I mean I like pop music, and I like heavy music and, stuff that I like ... the band I've signed on to our label right now; they're called The Sounds. They're kind of like a new-wave pop band. ~ James Iha

Heavy blizzards start as a gentle and persistent snow. ~ Mark Helprin

A billion neutrinos go swimming in heavy water: one gets wet. ~ Michael Kamakana

For, Thou art righteous, O Lord, but we have sinned and committed iniquity, and have done wickedly, and Thy hand is grown heavy upon us, and we are justly delivered over unto that ancient sinner, the king of death; because he persuaded our will to be like his will whereby he abode not in Thy truth. ~ Augustine Of Hippo

This guilt was an invisible but heavy albatross hanging around my neck. (That's a reference to Coleridge's The Rime of the Ancient Mariner.) I wear that bird like Björk wore her swan dress. I wave from a red carpet leading to hell. ~ Myriam Gurba

If you look at the people in Hollywood who are heavy partiers, they're selfish, self-centered and egotistical. ~ Danny Trejo

No two nations differ more from each other than the Russians and Finlanders. The former are as active, acute and sensible, as the latter are slow, heavy and stupid. ~ William Thomson, 1st Baron Kelvin

When the peasants and their song had vanished from his sight and hearing, a heavy feeling of anguish at his loneliness, his bodily idleness, his hostility to this world, came over him ... It was all drowned in the sea of cheerful common labor. God had given the day, God had given the strength. Both day and strength had been devoted to labour and in that lay the reward ... Levin had often admired this life, had often experienced a feeling of envy for the people who lived this life, but that day for the first time ... the thought came clearly to Levin that it was up to him to change that so burdensome, idle, artificial and individual life he lived into this laborious, pure and common, lovely life. ~ Leo Tolstoy

My real self, the self I have always been from a child, is a loner and nerd, slightly overweight, with a very heavy fringe. That is who I was as a kid. I don't think I will ever be anything other than that. ~ Hayley Atwell

Hard, hard it is, this anxious autumn
To lift the heavy mind from its dark forebodings; ~ Edna St. Vincent Millay

Your enemy is one who misunderstands you; why should you not rise above the fog and see his error and respect him for the good qualities you find in him? ~ Elbert Hubbard

Howl,heart is a heavy burden. ~ Diana Wynne Jones

I won't cry. When the guilt is this heavy, you can't. It just settles and stays with you, and it's cold. ~ Bethany Griffin

The arts of Mexico are heavy with the weight of the past, of gods that demanded the sacrifice of a thousand beating hearts in a day, of a world that ended every fifty-two years, of warriors who rushed into battle wearing the heads of jaguars or clothed in the flayed skins of their human victims. ~ Biloine W. Young

When I was a boy, playing at the beach, I remember a game I loved, which was an omen of my future life. I would dig a channel with high sides in the sand for the sea to fill. But when the water flooded the path I created for it with such violence that it destroyed everything in its way: my castles made of pebbles, my dikes of sand. It swept away everything, destroying it all, then disappeared, leaving me with a heavy heart, yet not daring to ask for pity, since the sea had only responded to my call. It's the same with love. You call out for it, you plan its course. The wave crashes into your heart, but it's so different from how you imagined it, so bitter and icy. ~ Irene Nemirovsky

Sometimes ideas hold us down; they become heavy anchors that hold the bark of identity fixated in shallow, dead water. ~ John O'Donohue

I conclude now I have no
inner resources, because I am heavy bored.
Peoples bore me,
literature bores me, especially great literature, ~ John Berryman

Alasdair yanked a pillow, shoving it under his arse. "I think you'll find I'm a heavy but remarkably fit and supple git, thank you very much." He spread his legs wide open and leered.
"With real self-esteem issues." Cosmo deadpanned.
"I will have if you don't hurry up and make love to me."
"Make love?" Aww, that's sweet."
"Less talking. More shagging."
"Yes, boss!" Cosmo saluted with his free hand ... ~ Josephine Myles

Then Ardent, heavy hearted, turned away; sore for the rusted armor and the wasted days: but as Sir Constant saw his shield, and lo! the lost Emblem of the King was shining once more through its veil of dishonor. For the heart's tears of sorrow had fallen upon the shield, and where they had fallen they had burned away the shame and stain. ~ W.E. Cule

Anyone and everyone taking a writing class knows that the secret of good writing is to cut it back, pare it down, winnow, chop, hack, prune, and trim, remove every superfluous word, compress, compress, compress...

Actually, when you think about it, not many novels in the Spare tradition are terribly cheerful. Jokes you can usually pluck out whole, by the roots, so if you're doing some heavy-duty prose-weeding, they're the first to go. And there's some stuff about the whole winnowing process I just don't get. Why does it always stop when the work in question has been reduced to sixty or seventy thousand words--entirely coincidentally, I'm sure, the minimum length for a publishable novel? I'm sure you could get it down to twenty or thirty if you tried hard enough. In fact, why stop at twenty or thirty? Why write at all? Why not just jot the plot and a couple of themes down on the back of an envelope and leave it at that? The truth is, there's nothing very utilitarian about fiction or its creation, and I suspect that people are desperate to make it sound manly, back-breaking labor because it's such a wussy thing to do in the first place. The obsession with austerity is an attempt to compensate, to make writing resemble a real job, like farming, or logging. (It's also why people who work in advertising put in twenty-hour days.) Go on, young writers--treat yourself to a joke, or an adverb! Spoil yourself! Readers won't mind! ~ Nick Hornby

It's not easy to remember, but IBM was the computer industry when I was growing up. You loved 'em. You hated 'em. You knew what they were doing. They had set a standard for mainframes. They also set a standard for great sales focus and heavy product R & D. ~ Bill Gates

Stand here by my side and turn, I pray,
On the lake below thy gentle eyes;
The clouds hang over it, heavy and gray,
And dark and silent the water lies;
And out of that frozen mist the snow
In wavering flakes begins to flow;
Flake after flake,
They sink in the dark and silent lake. ~ William C. Bryant

I wasn't that wild about that. I told them basically if they were really going to want to bring back heavy metal to a program on MTV, then they are really going to have to get in touch with what real heavy metal is. ~ Phil Anselmo

Then I'll go keep our crocodile friends busy." Niten's teeth flashed in a smile. "I'll try to leave a few for you." He stepped away and faded into the night.
"Be careful," Prometheus called.
A disembodied voice drifted out of the fog. "I was born for this. What's the worst that could happen?"
"You could be killed and eaten by the Spartoi."
"Doesn't frighten me. ~ Michael Scott

Men are under as strong a compulsion to invent an ethical setting for their behavior as spiders are to weave themselves webs. ~ John Dos Passos

The fog wasn't simply the steamy vapors off the bay caught and penned in by hills, but a soft breath of anonymity that shrouded and cushioned the bashful traveler. ~ Maya Angelou

The guard locks the gates of the turbeh, letting the heavy sound of the lock fall into the dark interior, as though leaving the name of the key inside. Dispirited, like me, he sits down on the stone beside me and closes his eyes. Just when I think he has dozed off in his part of the shade, the guard lifts his hand and points to a moth fluttering above the entrance to the tomb, having come out of our clothes or the Persian carpets in the turbeh.
"You see," he says to me casually, "the moth is way up there by the white wall of the doorway, and it is visible only because it moves. From here it almost looks like a bird in the sky. That's probably how the moth sees the wall, and only we know it is wrong. But it doesn't know that we know. It doesn't even know we exist. You try to communicate with it if you can. Can you tell it anything in a way it understands; can you be sure it understood you completely?"
"I don't know," I replied. "Can You?"
"Yes," the old man said quietly, and with a clap of his hands he killed the moth, then profered its crushed body on the palm of his hand.
"Do you think it didn't understand what I told it?"
"You can do the same thing with a candle, extinguish it with your two fingers to prove you exist," I commented.
"Certainly, if a candle is capable of dying... Now, imagine," he went on, "that there is somebody who knows about us what we know about the moth. Somebody who knows how, with what, and why this space that we ca ~ Milorad Pavic