Explore a collection of the most beloved and motivational quotes and sayings about Mistah. Share these powerful messages with your loved ones on social media platforms such as Facebook, Twitter, or on your personal blog, and inspire the world with their wisdom. We've compiled the Top 100 Mistah Quotes and Sayings from 96 influential authors, including Gregory Hill,Moonshine Noire,Jayne Anne Phillips,Carl Sandburg,Robert Loveman, for you to enjoy and share.

Tis an ill wind that blows no minds By Gregory Hill Tis Minds Ill Wind Blows

haze-brained nitwitpickle-head froggy leg soupmurky daunting gone By Moonshine Noire Hazebrained Nitwitpicklehead Froggy Leg Soupmurky

Smoke veils the air like souls in drifting suspension, declining the war's insistence everyone move on. By Jayne Anne Phillips Smoke Suspension Declining Veils Air

Blowing,BlowingThe gray slabsWill lose youthe winds will flick you awayIn a whiff By Carl Sandburg Blowingblowingthe Whiff Gray Slabswill Lose

The morning drips her dew for me, Noon spreads an opal canopy. Home-bound, the drifting cloud-crafts rest Where sunset ambers all the west ... By Robert Loveman Noon Canopy Morning Drips Dew

The hillside before them blurred, as if a curtain of wind-blown sand rose before it. A churning wind roiled through this strange mist. By Steven Erikson Blurred Hillside Curtain Windblown Sand

A mist. A great mist. It covered the entire kingdom. And everyone in it - the good people and the not so good, the young people and the not-so-young, and even Briar Rose's mother and father fell asleep. Everyone slept: lords and ladies, teacher and tummlers, dogs and doves, rabbits and rabbitzen and all kinds of citizens. So fast asleep they were, they were not able to wake up for a hundred years. By Jane Yolen Mist People Good Asleep Briar

The dust of my dreams swim spiced incense smoke. By Cameron Conaway Smoke Dust Dreams Swim Spiced

An ill winde that bloweth no man to good. By John Heywood Good Ill Winde Bloweth Man

In the land of wisdom, there is no fog in the air, no haze, no blur, no mirage, no smoke; all is seen plainly; the vision is very clean! By Mehmet Murat Ildan Wisdom Air Haze Blur Mirage

The fog between the trees of ghosts who lift suns. By Gwen Calvo Suns Fog Trees Ghosts Lift

It wasn't the fog I minded, Cathleen. I really love fog. [ ... ] It hides you from the world and the world from you. You feel that everything has changed, and nothing is what it seemed to be. No one can find or touch you any more. By Eugene O'neill Cathleen Minded Fog World Love

Coraline tried drawing the mist. After ten minutes of drawing she still had a white sheet of paper with "MIST" written on it one corner in slightly wiggly letters. She grunted and passed it to her mother."Mm. Very modern, dear," said Coraline's mother. By Neil Gaiman Mist Coraline Drawing Dear Written

VAPOR Ghostwritten by Anna Runes By Anna Runes Vapor Runes Ghostwritten Anna

Mistletoe. I surmount all obstacles. By Vanessa Diffenbaugh Mistletoe Obstacles Surmount

The scented cloud permeates the air and coats our tongues, triggering images: licorice tobacco and a seductive fae with an agenda, ocean salt and a mortal boy's sweat, maple syrup and a father's love, a mother's sacrifice and a lunar garden rich with lilies and honeysuckle. By A.g. Howard Tongues Triggering Images Licorice Agenda

Raw, gentle, and easy, it mizzled out of the high air, a special elixir, tasting of spells and stars and air, carrying a peppery dust in it, and moving like a rare light sherry on his tongue. Rain. By Ray Bradbury Air Raw Gentle Easy Elixir

Iris from sea brings wind or mighty rain. By Empedocles Iris Rain Sea Brings Wind

In a long journey straw waighs. By George Herbert Waighs Long Journey Straw

What is the scent of water?""Renewal. The goodness of God coming down like dew. By Elizabeth Goudge Renewal Water Scent God Dew

A name that brings a taste of sunshine, and of sunshine raising mist from the trees, and of mist reaching toward the sky. By Lauren Oliver Sunshine Mist Trees Sky Brings

Elsewhere, they might call the wind Mariah, but here its name was Something Fishy. By Tom Robbins Mariah Fishy Call Wind

I wanted to create something that would live on forever, beyond my time, and out of that came Cashmere Mist. By Donna Karan Mist Cashmere Forever Time Wanted

What river can flood over the mountains of your love? By Sorin Cerin Love River Flood Mountains

He always felt stronger in the mists. He felt like someone was watching, when he was out in them. By Brandon Sanderson Mists Felt Stronger Watching

A scent of jasmine and a rasp of sand. By Jan Morris Sand Scent Jasmine Rasp

The mist has no concept of time. By Elyse Draper Time Mist Concept

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. By Mikhail Bulgakov Gods Sad Mists World Evening

Your storm, Thlayli-rah. Use it. By Richard Adams Thlaylirah Storm

The air had lost its icy feel, but now a thin, sickly mist clung to everything, wrapping around tree trunks and moving over the ground in visible tides. By Erika Johansen Feel Thin Sickly Wrapping Tides

When a hadeeth is found to be saheeh, then that is my madhhab. By Abu Hanifa Saheeh Madhhab Hadeeth Found

SunriseWhat is the nameof the deep breath I would takeover and overfor all of us? Call itwhatever you want, it ishappiness, it is another oneof the ways to enterfire. By Mary Oliver Sunrisewhat Nameof Deep Breath Takeover

The fog of illusion, the fog of confusion is hanging all over the world. By Van Morrison Fog Illusion World Confusion Hanging

To the end of her life, to the last dream of old age, Syeira would always remember these two wild smells-the Arva horse, the muddy river-and how they carried her out of a lonely childhood. By Jamieson Findlay Syeira Arva Life Age Horse

I write your name for the last time in this mist,White breath on the windowpane,And watch it vanish. No, it stays there. By Charles Wright Vanish Write Time Mistwhite Breath

A Waft of Cheese By David Walliams Cheese Waft

Clouds veiled the mountains, By Elizabeth Lowell Clouds Mountains Veiled

Humid the air! Leafless, yet soft as spring. The tender purple spray on copse and briers! And that sweet city with her dreaming spires, she needs not June for beauty's heightening. Lovely all the time she lies ... By Matthew Arnold Humid Air Leafless Spring June

Tiny, searing stabs. Wherever the droplets of mist touch my skin."Run!" I scream at the others. "Run!"Finnick snaps awake instantly, rising to counter an enemy. But when he sees the wall of fog, he tosses a still-sleeping Mags onto his back and takes off. Peeta is on his feet but not as alert. I grab his arm and begin to propel him through the jungle after Finnick. By Suzanne Collins Run Tiny Searing Stabs Finnick

Ptah? son of ptooey? What is he god of spitting? i asked By Rick Riordan Ptah Son Ptooey Spitting Asked

It was in a mist the Tuatha de Danaan, the people of the gods of Dana, or as some called them, the Men of Dea, came through the air and the high air to Ireland. By Lady Gregory Danaan Dana Dea Ireland Air

Nothing remains but desire, and desire comes howling down Elysian Fields like a mistral. By Walker Percy Elysian Fields Mistral Desire Remains

The smoke drifts toward us across that vast desert of desolation with the rising of the wind. By J.m Shorney Wind Smoke Drifts Vast Desert

My son, again you worry me. From time to time you worry me, so regularly it should calm me. I remember once, when you were little, we saw a fire together in a big hotel. The flames and the water and the smoke, the wailing and the shouting and the madly flashing lights, all these saved me from lots of talk on what life is. And we stood in silence. I ask myself where my father hid his fear, perhaps in a closed closet or some other place beyond the reach of children, perhaps deep in his heart. But now again you worry me. I'm always looking for you, this time among the mists of the Upper Galilee. I am a mist father. And the child is no more, for he is already grown. By Yehuda Amichai Worry Son Time Father Galilee

So long as mists envelop you, be still. Be still until the sunlight pours through and dispels the mists - as it surely will. Then act with courage. By Chief White Eagle Mists Long Envelop Courage Sunlight

I'd rather fake my own fog, than fake a steamy love scene. Can I interest you in some mist? It's homemade. By Jarod Kintz Fake Fog Scene Steamy Love

The Death Mist is not for helping!" Akhlys shrieked. "It shrouds mortals in misery as their souls pass into the Underworld. It is the very breath of Tartarus, of death, of despair!""Awesome," Percy said. "Could we get two orders of that to go? By Rick Riordan Mist Helping Death Awesome Underworld

The mist had grown heavier, like a drizzle that did not fall so much as lie upon the very air itself. By Mark Gelineau Heavier Mist Grown Drizzle Fall

Katsa watched the long grass moving around them. The wind pushed it, attacked it, struck it in one place and then another. It rose and fell and rose again. It flowed, like water. By Kristin Cashore Katsa Watched Long Grass Moving

This is the female form, vapor, A divine nimbus exhales from it from head to foot, It attracts with fierce undeniable attraction, I am drawn by its breath as if I were no more than a helpless vapor, all falls aside but myself and it, Books, art, religion, time, the visible and solid earth, and what was expected of heavaen or fear'd of hell, are now consumed, Mad filament, ungovernable shoots play out of it, the response likewise ungovernable ... By Walt Whitman Books Vapor Mad Art Religion

Trees quiver in the wind,sailing on a sea of mistout of earshot. By Dag Hammarskjold Trees Earshot Quiver Windsailing Sea

The world of dewis the world of dew.And yet, and yet By Kobayashi Issa World Dewis Dewand

If only this mist would clear, it would be a lovely day," she said faintly."And if only the clouds would thicken up it would be a miserable day," Mr. Allen contributed from behind the paper. "It is what it is. By Val Mcdermid Day Allen Clear Faintly Paper

The English mist is always at work like a subtle painter, and London is a vast canvas prepared for the mist to work on. By Arthur Symons English London Painter Mist Work

Jehowah-Jireh is my provider, redeemer and defender. By Lailah Gifty Akita Jehowahjireh Provider Redeemer Defender

Morning mists skulked over the river. By Jane Wilson-Howarth Morning River Mists Skulked

The seat of the Celtic Muse is in the mist of the secret and solitary hill, and her voice in the murmur of the mountain stream. By Walter Scott Celtic Muse Hill Stream Seat

Plume"Transfixed to the, by the, on the congruities, who is herself a vanishing point coming to closure - dusky flutter - trilling away like a watchdog on drugged sop, channeling her mother and grandmother who've engraved on her locket phrases in script: "glide on a blade" and "rustling precedes the shuck." This is not my teeming fate, my rind, my roiling ellipsis or valedictory spray of myrrh. Always it's morning, afternoon or evening - the loot of hours - a magic sack grasping vacuum but heavy in the hand, and from which, together, we pull a swarm of telepathic bees, melons beached in a green bin, a lithograph of the city from its crumbling ramparts, crackled pitchers and the mouth of a cave. Perhaps this is my open weave, my phantom rialto or plume of light. We bow to each other in the mash of flickering things. We are completely surrounded. By Aaron Shurin Transfixed Congruities Closure Dusky Flutter

I paint the fog - I think of its fresh moistness - its stillness - its mystery. By Douglas Lockwood Fog Moistness Stillness Mystery Paint

A world of dew and within every dewdrop a world of struggle. ISSA By Richard Flanagan World Issa Struggle Dew Dewdrop

What clouds may wet the gaze without hope of emptiness within us? By Sorin Cerin Clouds Wet Gaze Hope Emptiness

Fogs are like dreams that feed the soul, and without their mysterious embrace, childhood, courtship, poetry and the composition of music become all the more difficult. By Michael Leunig Childhood Courtship Fogs Soul Embrace

Umber whunnnn yerrrnnn umber whunnnn fayunnnn These sounds: even in the haze. By Stephen King Umber Whunnnn Sounds Haze Yerrrnnn

Hiresha felt something she struggled to describe. Power and possibility swirled within her, along with a a sense of gasping potential in each moment. When she could a find a name for it, tears beaded her eyes. I am awake. By A.e. Marling Hiresha Describe Felt Struggled Power

Whoever might perfume a scorpionWill not thereby escape its sting. Bahaudin Naqshband By Idries Shah Sting Naqshband Perfume Scorpionwill Escape

The aquilegia sprinkled on the rocksA scarlet rain; the yellow violetSat in the chariot of its leaves, the phloxHeld spikes of purple flame in meadows wet,And all the streams with vernal-scented reedWere fringed, and streaky bellow of miskodeed. By Bayard Taylor Rain Leaves Fringed Miskodeed Aquilegia

I like rain and mist. I've never understood why people exclaim over bright skies and bushels of glaring sunshine. By Franny Billingsley Mist Rain Sunshine Understood People

The smoke is a signal; it means the Salamander is coming. For she is a war-torn disaster, and her comfort is the gun. By R.r. Washburn Salamander Signal Coming Smoke Disaster

And the Mountains Echoed BY KHALED HOSSEINI By Khaled Hosseini Hosseini Mountains Echoed Khaled

The river Rhine, it is well known, Doth wash your city of Cologne; But tell me, nymphs! what power divine Shall henceforth wash the river Rhine? By Samuel Taylor Coleridge Rhine Doth Cologne Nymphs River

Let the people know my wisdom, fill the land with smoke By John Fogerty Wisdom Fill Smoke People Land

And i walked for hours the mist growing thick and whole the thought of disappaering like that, so simply, made me so happy By Jay Asher Simply Made Happy Walked Hours

It is like ... I don't know what. Not like silk. It is more like pouring water, only there is something cloudy about it too. The clouds are made of water, aren't they? Is it a pale mist, or a winter sea, or a waterfall, or a hayrick in the frost? Yes, it is a hayrick, deep and soft and full of scent. By T.h. White Water Hayrick Silk Mist Sea

Rose! Thou art the sweetest flower that ever drank the amber shower:Even the Gods, who walk the sky, are amourous of thy scented sigh. By Thomas More Rose Gods Thou Shower Sky

Fire-breathing bitch-queen. By Sarah J. Maas Firebreathing Bitchqueen

What relish is in this? How runs the stream?Or I am mad, or else this is a dream.Let fancy still my sense in Lethe steep.If it be thus to dream, still let me sleep! By William Shakespeare Relish Lethe Stream Mad Dream

But Mithgar ... Mithgar is yet wild, tempestuous, unkept, savage, turbulent, exciting. We come here to feel alive. By Dennis L. Mckiernan Mithgar Tempestuous Unkept Savage Turbulent

To the dismay of those that stood by, about the body of Saruman a grey mist gathered, and rising very slowly to a great height like smoke from a fire, as a pale shrouded figure it loomed over the Hill. For a moment it wavered, looking to the West; but out of the West came a cold wind, and it bent away, and with a sigh dissolved into nothing. By J.r.r. Tolkien Hill Saruman West Gathered Fire

Winds flap the sail, tortoise and snake are silent, a great plan looms. A bridge will fly over this moat dug by heaven and be a road from north to south. We will make a stone wall against the upper river to the west and hold back steamy clouds and rain of Wu peaks. Over tall chasms will be a calm lake, and if the goddess of these mountains is not dead she will marvel at the changed world. By Mao Zedong Winds Sail Tortoise Silent Looms

I'll take her no mistake no mister no missed her no mist no miss no me no. By Caryl Churchill Mistake Mister Missed Mist Miss

mistress of Netherfold. By Georgette Heyer Netherfold Mistress

The fragrance of sandalwood and rosebay does not travel far. But the fragrance of virtue rises to the heavens. By Gautama Buddha Fragrance Sandalwood Rosebay Travel Heavens

It was a gloomy prospect, and all that she could do was to throw a mist over it, and hope when the mist cleared away, she should see something else. By Jane Austen Prospect Mist Gloomy Throw Hope

Ah, what sights and sounds and pain lie beneath that mist. And we had thought that our hard climb out of that cruel valley led to some cool, green and peaceful, sunlit placebut it's all jungle here, a wild and savage wilderness that's overrun with ruins. But put on your crown, my Queen, and we will build a New City on these ruins. By Eldridge Cleaver Mist Ruins Sights Sounds Pain

I love hot hand of explosion. I love a breeze perfumed with the devil smell of powder. By Tom Robbins Explosion Love Hot Hand Powder

The BlessingHeads are covered by the Tallit, or prayer shawl; hands are extended out with the fingers splayed to form the shape of the letter Shin, the first letter in the word Shaddai, a name for the Almighty. The chant, in Hebrew, is loud and ecstatic: "May the Lord bless and keep you."The Shekhina is summoned; the feminine essence of God. She enters the sanctuary to bless the congregation. The very sight of her, the awesome light emanating from the Shekhina, is dangerous to behold. By Leonard Nimoy Letter Tallit Shin Shaddai Almighty

Loud wind, strong wind, sweeping o'er the mountains,Fresh wind, free wind, blowing from the sea,Pour forth thy vials like streams from airy mountains,Draughts of life to me. By Dinah Maria Murlock Craik Wind Loud Strong Sweeping Free

The Shat-el-Arab is a noble river or estuary. From both its Persian and Turkish shores, however, mountains have disappeared, and dark forests of date palms intersected by canals fringe its margin heavily, and extend to some distance inland. By Isabella Bird Estuary Noble River Persian Turkish

The wind blows through him, cleansing. Salt and distance, smell of the deep. By Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni Cleansing Wind Blows Salt Distance

The blowing mist, filled with the light of the moon, was seeking to swallow the lamps of the heavens. By Anne Rice Mist Filled Moon Heavens Blowing

Foggy little oxbowsForest pools where no one goesLost links of the river dreaming dreams By Erin Bow Foggy Dreams Oxbowsforest Pools Goeslost

In the draws the smoke coming off the ground like mist and the thin black trees burning on the slopes like heathen candles. By Cormac Mccarthy Candles Draws Smoke Coming Ground

Tantarrara! the joyous Book of SpringLies open, writ in blossoms. By William Allingham Tantarrara Book Open Writ Blossoms

A breath thou art, Servile to all the skyey influences. By William Shakespeare Servile Art Influences Breath Thou

Thou slanting rain! Thou Hebe of the Skies, That pours out drink to Earth; thou faithful wife That with moist tears embraces her prone lord. Thou mist intensified; thou double dew That drowns the drought, that heals the parched and burnt Thou resurrection rain. By William Batchelder Greene Thou Rain Slanting Skies Earth

Tiers of mountains Cold wind feet Not need fan Ice cold through Moon shines bright Mist covers everything Sit all alone One old man By Hanshan Cold Ice Moon Mist Sit

In our forestspart divineand makes her heart palpitatewild and tame are one. What a delicious Sound! By John Cage Sound Forestspart Divineand Makes Heart

AirThe airpregnant with rainbowsshatters its mirrorsover the grove. By Federico Garcia Lorca Airthe Grove Airpregnant Rainbowsshatters Mirrorsover

When you walk in the mist, you get wet. By Dogen Mist Wet Walk

Thy breath is like the steame of apple-pyes. By Robert Greene Thy Applepyes Breath Steame