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“Mists may blur vision, Doubts to lies are heavy mists, Truth clears for all ways." ~ Angelica Hopes, Haikuan excerpt from If I Could Tell You”
Angelica Hopes“How sad, ye Gods, how sad the world is at evening, how mysterious the mists over the swamps! You will know it when you have wandered astray in those mists, when you have suffered greatly before dying, when you have walked through the world carrying an unbearable burden. You know it too when you are weary and ready to leave this earth without regret; its mists; its swamps and its rivers; ready to give yourself into the arms of death with a light heart, knowing that death alone can comfort you.”
Mikhail Bulgakov, The Master and Margarita“It is getting dark. In the low mists over the hills, an orange glow broods, as if the trees are on fire. Bats are flooding out from the hundreds of caves that perforate these mountainsides. I watch them plunge into the mists without any hesitation, trusting in the echoes and silences in which they fly.Are all of us the same, I wonder, navigating our lives by interpreting the silences between words spoken, analyzing the returning echoes of our memory in order to chart the terrain, in order to make sense of the world around us?”
Tan Twan Eng“But then he saw it, then he saw what he had known he was seeing and could not accept. There in the night, amid the mist, upon the flat of the plains, the shimmer of light from Allear was not right. The grasses were too flat, the mists curled awkwardly, as if impeded by some large mass and then the glamor was gone, the trick revealed. And before Thorin’s very eyes, a mass of soldiers appeared — thousands of them — wearing black and facing his camp. Doom settled around Thorin like some shroud for a watery grave. “Ah, bloody hell.”
Clifton Hill, Veil of a Warrior“High PastureCome up--come up: in the dim vale belowThe autumn mist muffles the fading trees,But on this keen hill-pasture, though the breezeHas stretched the thwart boughs bare to meet the snow,Night is not, autumn is not--but the flowOf vast, ethereal and irradiate seas,Poured from the far world's flaming boundariesIn waxing tides of unimagined glow.And to that height illumined of the mindhe calls us still by the familiar way,Leaving the sodden tracks of life behind,Befogged in failure, chilled with love's decay--Showing us, as the night-mists upward wind,How on the heights is day and still more day.”
Edith Wharton“Numquam illegitimi carborundum --"Never let the bastards grind you down.”-- my old Latin prof Dr. Kuk''s version, other minor variations out there.”
mists of time“Tracing the beginnings of the interwoven stories of science can be arbitrary, as beginnings are so often lost in the mists of time.”
Elizabeth Blackburn“Men live their lives trapped in an eternal present, between the mists of memory and the sea of shadow that is all we know of the days to come.”
George R.R. Martin, A Dance with Dragons“There were only the great diamonds and sapphires and emerald mists and velvet inks of space, with God's voice mingling among the crystal fires.”
Ray Bradbury, The Illustrated Man“The stars, like dust, encircle meIn living mists of light;And all of space I seem to seeIn one vast burst of sight”
Isaac Asimov, The Stars, Like Dust