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Updated: May 28, 2025
At present the day was drizzling and chilly, while the huge volumes of smoke from a whole forest of factory chimneys tended to impart a deeper shade of dismalness to the dispiriting landscape. The old man himself was plainly a character.
Not even the dismalness of her unattractive room and desolate surroundings had power to drive the song from her heart. She went about humming the grand tune with which the evening service had closed: "In the cross of Christ I glory, Towering o'er the wrecks of time."
The night was dark and stormy; not a star was visible above, and the wind howled so furiously as to overpower all other sounds: the rain fell in torrents, and the watchers on the towers adjoining to that of Phirouz could not hear the tramp of the armed knights for the wind, nor see them for the obscurity of the night and the dismalness of the weather.
I hate town, anyway, and a hospital is the limit for dismalness. Even the Louise of me is getting ready to do something awful if I have to stay much longer. Mommie sleeps most of the time. I believe they dope her with something. She doesn't have that awful pain so bad. So I don't have anything to do but sit around and read and sew and wait for her to wake up and want something.
Several of these standing about in various parts of the village added to the general uncouthness and desolation of the scene; and Jim felt that if he were compelled to stay here for very long, he would go mad with the very dismalness and horror of his surroundings.
The room was brown with time, dark in spite of two windows that opened on Union Square, with dull curtains and carpet, and heavy, respectable-looking furniture in somber colors. The place was saved from utter dismalness by a coal fire under the black marble mantelpiece, brilliantly reflected in a long mirror that hung between the two windows.
A Malay Interior Malay Bird-Scaring Rice Culture Picturesque Dismalness A Bad Spell An Alarm Possibilities of Peril Patience and Kindness Masculine Clatter KWALA KANGSA, February 20. Yesterday afternoon I had an expedition which I liked very much, though it ended a little awkwardly owing to a late start.
It was late in October, and a cold wind was driving from the north-west across a plain which for sheer dismalness of aspect may give points to Sahara and beat that abode of mental depression without an effort. So far as the eye could reach there was no habitation to break the line of horizon.
The London steamer had given up running, and no one was to be seen on the jetty but an occasional sailor, pipe in mouth and hands in pockets, looking the picture of dismalness. You may fancy Jack and I, under these depressing circumstances, soon got tired of sailing the boat.
I SUPPOSE there has never been an earnest worker, an enthusiast on any subject, in this changeful world, but has been a victim at some time to the dismalness of a reaction. The most forlorn little victim that could be imagined was Flossy Shipley on that evening after the meetings, on which her soul had fed so long, were closed.
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