LONDON. Michaelmas Term lately over, and the Lord Chancellor sitting in Lincoln’s Inn Hall. Implacable November weather. As much mud in the streets as if the waters had but newly retired from the face of...

Under the thinning fog the surf curled and creamed, almost without sound, like a thought trying to form inself on the edge of consciousness.

Trying to remember a dream from a decade ago is like trying to catch fog in a coffee filter. I could subsist on morning mist.

Instead of cream, I like fog in my coffee. Makes me feel like I’m drinking the mystery that is love.

It wasn’t the fog I minded, Cathleen. I really love fog. […] It hides you from the world and the world from you. You feel that everything has changed, and nothing is what it seemed...

moonlight disappears down the hillsmountains vanish into fogand i vanish into poetry.

The moveless man moves along like the mist. The mist doesn’t hide, but all things are hidden in it—including the fog. Love is the only thing that moves the moveless man, and he hasn’t the...

His thin accusation hung thick in the air like fog smoking a cigarette.

I eat fog for breakfast, and I shit out steamy love scenes from the 80s.

This investigation felt difficult, like driving in fog.

A great sea fog is not homogenous–its density varies: it is honeycombed with streets, it has its caves of clear air, its cliffs of solid vapour, all shifting and changing place with the subtlety of...

The dense fog manifests ever-living gravestones, the tunes of decadence, the hearts that were doomed to dance alone. Here lies untouched beauty, a brittle dream, an unseen sea-born nightmare, an isolated acheirous harf, fishbones without...

I wish I had a body like fog or mist, and could move mysteriously. But genetics being what they are, I’m stuck with a body like haze.

I do so much music that it’s like a fog, and I can’t even remember all of it.

But it is growing damp and I must go in. Memory’s fog is rising.

In the morning I woke like a sloth in the fog.

I turned on my faucet, and out slithered a clear garden snake. It was too cold to shave with, so I grew out a beard and patch of broccoli. Sometimes my love is liquid, and...

The smog curled between the streetlamps and the spokes of the wrought iron framework. It seemed through your body and into your bones.

they’ll match the lemonade.” I make love like an Arnold Palmer, but not like Arnold Palmer.

Jim said he believed it was spirits, but I says: no, spirits wouldn’t say “dern the dern fog”.

I’d rather fake my own fog, than fake a steamy love scene. Can I interest you in some mist? It’s homemade.

When the rush of the weak sweeps over those that strive to be strong, its destruction. The commonplaces of moral judgment become fogged with the lack of perception stained with the sting of longing. The...

I can see the young man on dizzily autumn mornings, the fog of which he inhaled just like the rapidly evaporating freedom.

A thin grey fog hung over the city, and the streets were very cold; for summer was in England.

I have a beard of fog that I wear on misty mornings. It’s not cigarette smoke, but I’d understand if you wanted to shave it off and inhale it.

Children of her type contrive the purest philosophies. Ada had worked out her own little system. Hardly a week had elapsed since Van’s arrival when he was found worthy of being initiated in her web...

I can bench press steam, but not fog. I just have to wait until the fog lifts itself.

One day many years ago a man walked along and stood in the sound of the ocean on a cold sunless shore and said, “We need a voice to call across the water, to warn...

My mom and dad died, but in their place I got a house of fog that’s easy to hide my feelings in. (No smoking, please.)

Desire is like fog on a bathroom mirror — its presence incites you to wipe the mirror, and see yourself clearly again.

Clouds are high flying Fog

I returned to the courtyard and saw that the sun had grown weaker. Beautiful and clear as it had been, the morning (as the day approached the completion of its first half) was becoming damp...

When the fog lifts on this economy, I think we’ll find a lot of people refusing to ever turn off their caution lights.

Meanwhile it’s got stormy, the tattered fog even thicker, chasing across my path. Three people are sitting in a glassy tourist cafe between clouds and clouds, protected by glass from all sides. Since I don’t...

I eat fog soup (out of a can). You don’t think I make it fresh, do you? You don’t need a spoon or straw to enjoy it—you need a pipe to inhale it.

When I was lost in the fog, it was as though nothing else existed. And, afterwards, it seemed incomprehensible that I had ever really thought like that. Self-recrimination inevitably followed.

Don’t let the agony, regret, or fog of yesterday blind you to the fact that each new day carries with it a plethora of opportunities to move your life into the right direction.

I feel like I’m walking around in a fog. Orafoura doesn’t call me Mr. Mist for nothing.

At night the fog was thick and full of light, and sometimes voices.

Shape? Does a fog have shape? Does the twilight? Does the onset of darkness?

Spurious fame spreads from tongue to tongue like the fog of the early dawn before the sun rises.

Love is like water, except it’s either fog or ice. I make love like a steamy 32 degrees.

The night was white-blind with fog, and Kate staggered over every stone and stumbled in every puddle, but she pushed on as fast as she could.