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“When ideas evaporate, when shapes fade and forms lose their integrity, our imagination can create an outlandish setting and convert everything into a hazy, misty Turner landscape. ("Back garden of a dream")”
― Erik Pevernagie

“You can walk in a dream while you are awake: Just walk in the misty morning of a forest!”
― Mehmet Murat ildan

“If you can add a great beauty to something which is already beautiful, then you must be very beautiful like a white swan adding beauty to a misty lake!”
― Mehmet Murat ildan

“It was almost twilight, long shadows of oaks and chestnuts crossing the unpaved road leading away from the village. This part of England had not yet been deforested to feed the fleets and factories that had sprung up in the major cities. The woodlands were still pristine and other-worldly, scored with small cartways half-buried by overhanging branches thick with leaves. In the gathering shade the trees were wreathed in vapor and mystery, like sentinels for a world of druids and warlocks and unicorns. A brown owl glided over the lane, mothlike in the darkening sky.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Scandal in Spring

“If your mind is misty, your life will be misty; if your mind is sunny, your life will be sunny! Your life will be the reflection of your mind, of your thoughts! If there is a candle in your mind, your life will not know what utter darkness is!”
― Mehmet Murat ildan

“It's a vanity to think that a legitimate shamanistic experience can be purchased.”
― Father John Misty

“For a spiritual journey, you don’t have to meditate or visit a temple or listen to a guru! Just live a misty morning while the sun is rising!”
― Mehmet Murat ildan

“It had rained overnight, a little pitter-patter of drops playing on her window sometime just after midnight. The storm had moved in and washed over the dusty outcroppings of Ginny's property. Everything was left with a dewy sense of renewal.
The ground was still damp but oddly warm against Julia's bare toes. A veil of steam floated up from the stone pavers, giving everything a mystical feel. She remembered these kinds of mornings. The recollection comforted her. Closing her eyes, she inhaled. Fresh air filled her lungs. She liked the sweet, organic smell that touched at the back of her throat and hinted of sage. Probably the rains had been responsible for releasing such an ethereal aroma.”
― Nicole Meier, The Second Chance Supper Club