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Quotes about fog

William Shakespeare

Malvolio: I am not mad, Sir Topas. I say to you this house is dark.
Fool: Madman, thou errest. I say, there is no darkness but ignorance, in which thou art more puzzled than the Egyptians in their fog.

classic lines from the play Twelfth Night, Act IV, Scene 2, script by (1601)Report problemRelated quotes
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T.S. Eliot

The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock

S’io credesse che mia risposta fosse
A persona che mai tornasse al mondo,
Questa fiamma staria senza piu scosse.
Ma perciocche giammai di questo fondo
Non torno vivo alcun, s’i’odo il vero,
Senza tema d’infamia ti rispondo.

LET us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherized upon a table;
Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,
The muttering retreats 5
Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels
And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:
Streets that follow like a tedious argument
Of insidious intent
To lead you to an overwhelming question….
Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”
Let us go and make our visit.

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Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

The Song Of Hiawatha XXII: Hiawatha's Departure

By the shore of Gitche Gumee,
By the shining Big-Sea-Water,
At the doorway of his wigwam,
In the pleasant Summer morning,
Hiawatha stood and waited.
All the air was full of freshness,
All the earth was bright and joyous,
And before him, through the sunshine,
Westward toward the neighboring forest
Passed in golden swarms the Ahmo,
Passed the bees, the honey-makers,
Burning, singing In the sunshine.

Bright above him shone the heavens,
Level spread the lake before him;
From its bosom leaped the sturgeon,
Sparkling, flashing in the sunshine;
On its margin the great forest
Stood reflected in the water,
Every tree-top had its shadow,

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Mindfog

this day
the frost has
frozen over the glass, and
the doors are snow-stuck shut

fog is dense,
milky like blind eyes
and my feet fall
through unexpected inches
when I step past sidewalk
onto the snowsuffocated grass

pairs of ghostlights drift along
the road, roaring and humming
as they hover in the quiet,
trying to find still in the snowstorm.

a morning
where we awaken
to the same night

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The Promise

With the start of every day
My love for you will never sway
I will lead you through arduous bogs
And protect you in cumbrous fog
A flower will grace your luminous hair
You will be surrounded with loving care
At night when La Luna shines bright
My arms' will hold you tight
Awaking to the morning light
And when your hair has turned to grey
My love for you will never sway
I keep this promise to our last day

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Richard Brautigan

Coffee

Sometimes life is merely a matter of coffee and whatever intimacy a cup of coffee
affords. I once read something about coffee. The thing said that coffee is good for you;
it stimulates all the organs.
I thought at first this was a strange way to put it, and not altogether pleasant, but
as time goes by I have found out that it makes sense in its own limited way. I'll tell you
what I mean.
Yesterday morning I went over to see a girl. I like her. Whatever we had going for us
is gone now. She does not care for me. I blew it and wish I hadn't.
I rang the door bell and waited on the stairs. I could hear her moving around upstairs.
The way she moved I could tell that she was getting up. I had awakened her.
Then she came down the stairs. I could feel her approach in my stomach. Every step she
took stirred my feelings and lead indirectly to her opening the door. She saw me and it
did not please her.
Once upon a time it pleased her very much, last week. I wonder where it went,
pretending to be naive.
"I feel strange now," she said. "I don't want to talk."
"I want a cup of coffee," I said, because it was the last thing in the world
that I wanted. I said it in such a way that it sounded as if I were reading her a telegram
from somebody else, a person who really wanted a cup of coffee, who cared about nothing
else.

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poem by from Revenge of the Lawn (1971)Report problemRelated quotes
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Yesterday And Today

Trapped in the alley ways of yesterday--
Sheets of fog cover up my flaws...
Protected by the Winter of Cold Indifference--
Where doubt and fear once bore their ugly claws;

In a labyrinth of charcoal grey conundrums...
I breathe in my past once and again---
Wondering where my truth has run off to...
Fleeing all the way- back to then;

'Neath a canopy of: 'Might Have Beens'...
Not pursuing them to the end---
Anxiety obliterates all of my coverings...
Totally disabled my ability to mend;


Underneath The Umbrellla
September,2010

Dedicated to: Joy L. Cartwright

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...the fog is rising.

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Carl Sandburg

The fog comes on little cat feet. It sits looking over harbor and city on silent haunches and then moves on.

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Helen Keller

Have you ever been at sea in a dense fog, when it seemed as if a tangible white darkness shut you in and the great ship, tense and anxious, groped her way toward the shore with plummet and sounding-line, and you waited with beating heart for something to happen I was like that ship before my education began, only I was without compass or sounding line, and no way of knowing how near the harbor was. 'Light Give me light' was the wordless cry of my soul, and the light of love shone on me in that very hour.

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