Suddenly a mist of green on the trees, as quiet as thought.
There is nothing, indeed, which God will not do for a man who dares to step out upon what seems to be the mist; though as he puts his foot down he finds a rock beneath him.
A low line of shore was visible at first on the right between the movement of the waves and fog, but when we came further it was lost sight of, and nothing could be seen but the mist curling in the rigging, and a small circle of foam.
Than smoke and mist who better could appraise The kindred spirit of an inner haze?
All Christian language about the future is a set of signposts pointing into a mist.
His words are nothing more than mist and sunshine, impossible to hold down.
I wanted to create something that would live on forever, beyond my time, and out of that came Cashmere Mist.
Spiritual experiences are like mist, they will evaporate.
Once upon a time, an angel lay dying in the mist. And a devil knelt over him and smiled.
When I'm writing it's as if I'm the observer. It's as if that computer screen there -it used to be the typewriter - just kind of dissolves and there's this whirling tunnel of mist and there's a kind of proscenium arch, and then there are my characters, and they say what they say, and I laugh sometimes in surprise at what they say.
The English mist is always at work like a subtle painter, and London is a vast canvas prepared for the mist to work on.
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I've come to believe that God, in His wisdom, allows martyrdom in every generation in part because, without them, the reality of Christ's death for us becomes increasingly blurry. . . As we look at [the martyrs], the mist that sometimes enshrouds first-century Golgotha is burned away, and we see. . . the Lord nailed to the cross.
When Catholicism goes bad it becomes the religion of amulets and holy places and priestcraft: Protestantism, in its corresponding decay, becomes a vague mist of ethical platitudes
Prayer clears the mist and brings back peace to the Soul. . .
Nothing that is can pause or stay; The moon will wax, the moon will wane, The mist and cloud will turn to rain, The rain to mist and cloud again, Tomorrow be today.
The mists remain of the false glory that erupts from history.
Take your materials from what is around you - if you see a dandelion, write about that; if it's misty, write about the mist. The materials for poetry are all about you in profusion.
You cannot depict love inside a frame of fact. It needs a mist to dissolve in.
When you walk in the mist, you get wet.