Quotes about Atmosphere
No, it's this poisonous atmosphere. I suppose it is pretty thick, now that you mention it.
— Arthur Conan Doyle
A dog reflects the family life. Whoever saw a frisky dog in a gloomy family, or a sad dog in a happy one?
— Arthur Conan Doyle
and the Creole houses were invisible behind the rain.
— Graham Greene
My father was a negative person. He actually taught me to be negative, if that makes any sense. I remember him saying: 'You know there's no point in expecting anything good to happen because it won't.' I grew up in such a negative atmosphere.
— Joyce Meyer
Have you ever noticed how many different silences there are, Gilbert? The silence of the woods . . . of the shore . . . of the meadows . . . of the night . . . of the summer afternoon. All different because all the undertones that thread them are different. I'm sure if I were totally blind and insensitive to heat and cold I could easily tell just where I was by the quality of the silence about me.
— LM Montgomery
When he said good-evening you felt that it was a good evening and that it was partly his doing that it was. Also, you felt that some of the credit was yours.
— LM Montgomery
When all work is brought to a standstill, the candles are lit. Just as creation began with the word, Let there be light ! so does the celebration of creation begin with the kindling of lights. It is the woman who ushers in the joy and sets up the most exquisite symbol, light, to dominate the atmosphere of the home.
— Abraham Joshua Heschel
Nostalgia comes with the smell of rain.
— Donald Justice
Remember to get the weather in your damn book--weather is very important.
— Ernest Hemingway
It came very fast and the sun went a dull yellow and then everything was gray and the sky was covered and the cloud came on down the mountain and suddenly we were in it and it was snow.
— Ernest Hemingway
A girl came in the cafe and sat by herself at a table near the window. She was very pretty with a face fresh as a newly minted coin if they minted coins in smooth flesh with rain-freshened skin, and her hair was black as a crow's wing and cut sharply and diagonally across her cheek. I
— Ernest Hemingway
I pointed to the canvas where the rain was making the finest sound that we, who live much outside of houses, ever hear.
— Ernest Hemingway