Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Humidity. Share them with your friends on social media platforms like Facebook, Twitter, or your personal blogs, and let the world be inspired by their powerful messages. Here are the Top 100 Humidity Quotes And Sayings by 95 Authors including Wendell Berry,Brandon Sanderson,Sinclair Lewis,Sarah Addison Allen,James Dyson for you to enjoy and share.
Battle with unconditioned breath the unconditioned air. Shun electric wire. Communicate slowly. Live a three-dimensional life; stay away from screens.
Air. Air is really, really awesome.
In fact, the whole thing about prohibition is this: it isn't the initial cost, it's the humidity.
When you know something's wrong, but you don't know exactly what it is, the air around you changes.
Well, air-conditioning is not a good thing.
sunbeams everywhere and mist floating like freshly minted
One senses that, in these conditions, no amount of wet-wiping could bring true hygiene.
The sun is getting warmer on my back, and I wish the air could stay the way it was moments before: the air of promise, the elements brewing but not quite cooked.
It was magical growing up in New Jersey. My sister and I would go nuts in the basement and do full theater productions. We used a humidifier as a fog machine. It was over the top.
I guess the difference is that dampness comes down but dankness rises up out of rot and fermentation.
The final condensation.
The rain, it raineth every day.
One thing about living in South Florida is that everywhere you go is violently air-conditioned,
CLOUDS SPILLED DOWN FROM THE SKY AND swamped the streets with a hot mist that made the thermometers on the walls perspire. Halfway through
I lie flat, the damp air above me like a lid. Like earth. I wish it would rain. Better still, a thunderstorm, black clouds, lightning, ear-splitting sound.
The fog comes on little cat feet.
The place smelled of sweat and burned coffee and the passage of time, which held its own moldy stink.
The divine harbinger of summer - warm rain.
How is it that the clouds still hang on you?
It is not only by the pores of the skin that this aqueous emaciation takes place. A considerable quantity of humidity is also exhaled by the lungs at each expiration.
The morning slathers its whatever
across the thing.
What is the scent of water?"
"Renewal. The goodness of God coming down like dew.
The sky had cleared, and now the sun was overhead, already baking the wet ground so that you could see the humidity drifting lazily above the cotton stalks.
Clouds are high flying Fog
The delicous breath of rain was in the air.
What's dry?' 'Good question. Next question!
But it is growing damp and I must go in. Memory's fog is rising.
I sat up in bed. My T-shirt was soaking wet. My pillow was wet. My hair was wet. And my room was sticky and humid.
I grew up in St. Louis, and I don't know if you've ever been to St. Louis in the middle of summer. There are days in the summer sometimes, weeks in the summer, where the temperature can be over 100 degrees and the humidity can be 100 percent.
Outside, a ceiling of pearly gray clouds coalesced over Manhattan, and the apartment had grown dark. It just keeps dripping. It's been like this all week, .. Rain would be a relief.
That summer rain I mean that is so quiet and matter of fact and falls straight down like a curtain. Now
A complicit mustiness hung in the air, the odour of silence and calm.
That odd infallible sliding-like-crystal air on water that means day's left dawn for morning.
But no statistic conveyed a true picture of Panama rain. It had to be seen, to be felt, smelled; it had to be heard to be appreciated. The effect was much as though the heavens had opened and the air had turned instantly liquid.
I have noticed that rooms which are extra clean feel extra cold
My staff tells me not to say this, but I'm going to say it anyway. In the summer because of the heat and high humidity, you could literally smell the tourists coming into the Capitol. It may be descriptive but it's true.
- to wit, 'the sweat of the brow.
The air is hot, the atmosphere a bruise.
The mist had grown heavier, like a drizzle that did not fall so much as lie upon the very air itself.
The hot, stagnant air, only marginally cooler without the sun's heat, draped us in its sticky blanket.
Should you desire the great tranquility, prepare to sweat.
Heat, like a dry ocean through which they had to swim.
When we are bone-dry, all we need is a heavy rain!
It's evening, one of those gray water-color washes, like liquid dust.
We must respect the atmosphere which surrounds the human being
Fog
The fog comes
on little cat feet.
It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.
Art is 110 percent sweat.
The generation of atmosphere, the aura of the uncanny, is one of the most important secrets of magic. It contributes to the willing suspension of disbelief, the feeling that, within the circle, or in the presence of the magical shrine, anything may happen.
Even when the air seems perfectly still great changes are taking place.
Her eyes are huge and humid.
Sweat is my sanity. During the campaign, the days never went as well if I couldn't get out there and sweat.
What but a pestilential vapour can hover over society when its chief director is only instructed in the invention of crimes, or the stupid routine of childish ceremonies?
Dust Glitter Rain
The best things in life make you sweaty.
Drying, the storm mumbles, / like a freshly washed apron.
There is a climate for success. The temperature there makes you sweat.
...this feeling that the air was tearing itself apart.
Close a door, and you'd still feel a breeze through the window.
I like moments of staleness and mildew, simply because it creates the lane for change.
The rain swirls over the trees and roofs of the town, and the parched earth soaks it up, exuding a fragrance that comes only once in a year, the fragrance of quenched earth, the most exhilarating of all smells.
PROBLEMS are like cold or hot water, how much you pack it tightly but its moisture comes outside
The sweet air coming into your house on a fine day, from water etched with waves as formal as the scales on a fish.
Do not stand downwind from a sweaty person ...
Sweat is the cologne of accomplishment.
The air was calm and insects had not yet risen off the water, that crisp time of morning before the sun strikes, when it is still cool enough to work out solutions to sticky problems.
There was rain on steroids.
Blood like raindrops on the window.
I hate the word 'moist.'
What dreadful hot weather we have! It keeps me in a continual state of inelegance.
Folks, this is perfect weather for today's game. Not a breath of air.
A fine silver rain, like cobwebs falling.
The weather is nice outside, but it's cloudy in my heart.
Wind, then rain, and then the blue sky.
The weather varies between heavy fog and pale sunshine; My thoughts follow the exact same process.
Spring makes everything look filthy.
Dew moves mountains.
We were like wanderers in a desert, blessed with a rare downpour, but unable to store the rain.
The sea is the sweat of the earth.
Like odorless, colorless smoke leaking into the room through a small crack in the door.
No issue is more compelling than the air we breathe, be it hot or cold, be it hawk or human.
If you don't like the weather in southern Ohio, just wait fifteen minutes!!!".
~R. Alan Woods [2013]
Shine: clear dew aching with light.
There's no such thing as bad weather, just soft people.
It was a musty sweet smell. "Is this plague city?
Books were a closed book to Moist.
People often say that the beginning of the rainy season is a bad time for sick people
The timely dew of sleep.
Clouds are like boogers hanging on the nostrils of the moon.
THE AIR IN THE ROOM TASTES STERILE. THE LINGERING scent of bleach is mixing with the fresh white paint on the walls, and I wish my teacher would open the window to let in a breeze. But we're on the third floor so the pane is sealed shut - just in case anyone gets the urge to jump. I
The smell of rain is rich with life.
For my birthday I got a humidifier and a de-humidifier ... I put them in the same room and let them fight it out.
Dripping rain like golden honey-
And the sweet earth flying from the thunder
The gift of water, air, soap, and time allows us to heal and relieve our psyche and soul.
The air was a malodorous broth, and all labored to inhale it. The
Nothing comes easily. My work smells of sweat.
We love fog because
it shifts old anomalies into the elements
surrounding them. It gives relief from a way of seeing
The air is so crisp it gives me a brief, delusive sense of health and youth.
those I don't have but I have learned not to scorn the substitutes: quiet, plenty of time, and a job to spend it on.
Rain, forever raining. Drown me in sleep. And soon.
the atmosphere it breathed was like the light-rinsed airiness of a wall opposite an open window.
Spring rain leaking through the roof dripping from the wasps' nest.