fog

Fog

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In a summer haze

Mist from the distant mountains.

Fog in the Po Valley.

The fog of war isn't being lifted.

I love nights with fog.

Magic casements, opening on the foam

There's a wonderful mist down here.

But in my haze of narcosis,

It's all one big blur, like one big blackout.

A real London fog. Shall I call a cab for you?

Now, let me see. I haven't the foggiest.

The face, man. The face.

We were at 360 feet.

Mist like infold me from the search of eyes.

I was in a complete haze. I had no recollection.

A red mist spread over the lawn, coming on like a flame of fire.

Wedon'thavefog this time of year!

He made darkness his hiding place, his pavilion around him, darkness of waters, thick clouds of the skies.

He made darkness his secret place his pavilion round about him were dark waters and thick clouds of the skies.

I wanted to create environments that moved and morphed like an illusionist.

There'll be a fog, and the tide will turn after midnight.

If there's the slightest bit of haze, we shall have to slow down.

The kind of little face, the portrait you did?

The face, Prew!

Face?

Her looks?

but a mist went up from the earth, and watered the whole surface of the ground.

But there went up a mist from the earth, and watered the whole face of the ground.

I was a sick man. Instead of pink snakes, I got smoke.

There is a side that is led by men, and there is a side that is led by women.

Show Face

FaceUp

FaceDown

What's with that face?

So that is heads.

That last face.

Your expression.

A face is a face.

For you have not come to a mountain that might be touched, and that burned with fire, and to blackness, darkness, storm,

For ye are not come unto the mount that might be touched, and that burned with fire, nor unto blackness, and darkness, and tempest,