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“Soils could also be giving up their carbon stores: evidence emerged in 2005 that a vast expanse of western Siberia was undergoing an unprecedented thaw. The region, the largest frozen peat bog in the world, had begun to melt for the first time since it formed 11,000 years ago. Scientists believe the bog could begin to release billions of tonnes of methane locked up in the soils, a greenhouse gas 20 times more potent than carbon dioxide. The World Meteorological Organisation recently reported the largest annual rise of methane levels in the atmosphere for a decade.”

WorldGivingYearsFirstsBelieveLevelsGiving UpEvidenceFirst TimeYears AgoScientistWesternDecadesStoresBillionsReleaseAtmosphereSoilGlobal WarmingGasRegionsLockedCarbonFrozenOrganisationUnprecedentedAnnualsGreenhousesLocked UpCarbon DioxideGreenhouse GasesExpanseBogsSiberiaMethane
Author:David Adam
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“In the condition of men, it frequently happens that grief and anxiety lie hid under the golden robes of prosperity; and the gloom of calamity is cheered by secret radiations of hope and comfort; as in the works of nature, the bog is sometimes covered with flowers, and the mine concealed in the barren crags.”

MenSometimesHappensLyingGriefSecretConditionsMinesFlowerComfortAnxietyProsperityAppearanceGoldenCoveredRadiationCalamityConcealedGloomBarrenRobesBogs
Book:The Works of Samuel Johnson, LL.D.: With Murphy's Essay
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“Your wits can't thicken in that soft moist air, on those white springy roads, in those misty rushes and brown bogs, on those hillsides of granite rocks and magenta heather. You've no such colours in the sky, no such lure in the distances, no such sadness in the evenings. Oh the dreaming! the dreaming! the torturing, heart-scalding, never satisfying dreaming, dreaming, dreaming, dreaming!”

HeartDreamWhiteAirSadnessSkyRocksDistanceWitEveningColourBrownSatisfyingLureMistyGraniteBogsHeathersMagenta
Book:George Bernard Shaw: The Collected Plays (Illustrated): 60 plays including Caesar and Cleopatra, Pygmalion, Saint Joan, The Apple Cart, Cymbeline, Androcles And The Lion, The Man Of Destiny, The Inca Of Perusalem and Macbeth Skit
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“When you cut it up, put the pieces in your mouth and swallowed them, the British hamburger shaped itself to the bottom on your stomach like ballast, while interacting with your gastric juices to form an incipient belch of enormous potential, an airship which had been inflated in a garage. This belch, when silently released, would cause people standing twenty yards away to start examining the soles of their shoes. The vocalized version sounded like a bag of tools thrown into a bog.”

PeopleFunnyFormCausesPiecesCuttingMouthsStandingToolsEnglandTwentiesBottomShoesBritishEnormousVersionsThrownBagsStomachYardsJuiceGarageExaminingInteractingHamburgersBogsBallastGastricAirships
Book:Falling Towards England: (Unreliable Memoirs Continued)
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“We found in the course of our journey the convenience of having disencumbered ourselves, by laying aside whatever we could spare; for it is not to be imagined without experience, how in climbing crags and treading bogs, and winding through narrow and obstructed passages, a little bulk will hinder, and a little weight will burden; or how often a man that has pleased himself at home with his own resolution, will, in the hour of darkness and fatigue, be content to leave behind him everything but himself.”

MenLittlesHomeCoursesFoundHoursBehindsDarknessJourneyWeightBurdenResolutionClimbingPassagesSparesFatigueConvenienceHinderTreadingBogs
Book:Journey to the Hebrides: A Journey to the Western Islands of Scotland & The Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides
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“To love a swamp, however, is to love what is muted and marginal, what exists in the shadows, what shoulders its way out of mud and scurries along the damp edges of what is most commonly praised. And sometimes its invisibility is a blessing. Swamps and bogs are places of transition and wild growth, breeding grounds, experimental labs where organisms and ideas have the luxury of being out of the spotlight, where the imagination can mutate and mate, send tendrils into and out of the water.”

WayIdeasSometimesGrowthWaterImaginationBlessingShadowEdgesShouldersLuxuryTransitionMatesOrganismsMudBreedingLabsSpotlightSwampsDampInvisibilityBogs
Book:Stirring the Mud: On Swamps, Bogs, and Human Imagination
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“It is easier taking the beaten path than making our way over bogs and precipices. The great difficulty in philosophy is to come to every question with a mind fresh and unshackled by former theories, though strengthened by exercise and information.”

WayMindPhilosophyPathInformationTheoryEasierExerciseDifficultyFormerBeatenPrecipiceBogsBeaten Path
Book:Delphi Collected Works of William Hazlitt (Illustrated)
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“[ Age Of Trump] was something that I really wanted to do, and I also really wanted it to feel evergreen, so we made a lot of attempts not to bog it down in the campaign fight, even though we were right in the middle of that. I wanted it to be something that could live on and be a conversation piece long after this inauguration, whoever it was going to be.”

FeelsLongMadeAgeWantedFightingPiecesMiddleTrumpConversationCampaignsInaugurationBogsEvergreens
Author:Ava DuVernay
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“Words become, 'product', so that it is as though you'd bought a 'hand-cooked' packet of crisps; there are different makes, various flavours, but in the end, they're all rather similar and while eating them while sipping white wine makes you feel posher than if you'd bought the bog-standard ones, afterwards you don't remember very much about them.”

IfsFeelsDifferentEndsHandsRememberWhiteProductsEatingStandardsWineVariousCrispsFlavourSippingBogsWhite Wine
Author:Suhayl Saadi
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“As far as I'm concerned, it's a damned shame that a field as potentially dynamic and vital as journalism should be overrun with dullards, bums, and hacks, hag-ridden with myopia, apathy, and complacence, and generally stuck in a bog of stagnant mediocrity.”

ShouldFieldsConcernedShameStuckJournalismMediocrityApathyHacksStagnantBogsMyopia
Book:Proud Highway: Saga of a Desperate Southern Gentleman, 1955-1967
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“She gazed toward the marsh that grew thicker, deeper, greener with approaching summer. Mosquitoes whined in there, breeding in the dark water. Alligators slid through it, silent death. It was a place where snakes could slither and bogs could suck the shoe right off your foot. And it was a place, she thought, that went bright and beautiful with the twinkling of fireflies, where wildflowers thrived in the shade and the stingy light. Where an eagle could soar like a king. There was no beauty without risk. No life without it.”

LightBeautifulWaterDarkRiskFeetGrewKingsSummerSilentShoesDeeperShadeSoarSnakesEaglesBreedingMosquitoesFireflyAlligatorsWildflowersGreenerMarshesTwinklingStingyBogsDark Water
Author:Nora Roberts
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“When he awoke it was dawn. Or something like dawn. The light was watery, dim and incomparably sad. Vast, grey, gloomy hills rose up all around them and in between the hills there was a wide expanse of black bog. Stephen had never seen a landscape so calculated to reduce the onlooker to utter despair in an instant. "This is one of your kingdoms, I suppose, sir?" he said. "My kingdoms?" exclaimed the gentleman in surprize. "Oh, no! This is Scotland!”

SaidLightBlackDespairRoseWideKingdomsHillsLandscapeDawnGentlemanInstantScotlandGreyGloomyExpanseBogsUtter Despair
Book:Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell
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“Bog-lights, vapors of mysticism, psychic overtones, soul orgies, wailings among the shadows, weird gnosticisms, veils and tissues of words, gibbering subjectivisms, gropings and maunderings, ontological fantasies ... this is the stuff, the phantasms of hope, that fills your book shelves. Look at them, all the sad wraiths of sad mad men and passionate rebels — your Schopenhauers, your Strindbergs, your Tolstois and Nietzsches. Come. Your glass is empty. Fill and forget.”

BookLightStuffForgetFantasyEmptyGlassesMysticismShelvesPsychicsVeilsTissuesHallucinationsGnosticismVaporBogsSubjectivism
Author:Jack London
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“It's a funny thing about bogs. You can fill them with rocks and sand and old logs and make a little fenced-in yard on top with a woodpile and chopping block - but bogs go right on behaving like bogs. Early in the spring they breathe ice and make their own mist, in remembrance of the time when they had black water and their own sedge blossoming untouched.”

LittlesBlackWaterRocksSpringBreatheBlockIceSandYardsRemembranceFunny ThingsMistBlossomingChoppingBogs
Author:Tove Jansson
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“High horns, low horns, silence, and finally a pandemonium of trumpets, rattles, croaks, and cries that almost shakes the bog with its nearness ... A new day has begun on the crane marsh. A sense of time lies thick and heavy on such a place ... Our ability to perceive quality in nature begins, as in art, with the pretty. It expands through successive stages of the beautiful to values as yet uncaptured by language.”

ArtBeautifulLyingValuesLanguageNatureAbilitySilenceQualityStageCryLowsHeavyPerceiveShakesThickHornsNew DayTrumpetsMarshesCranesBogsPandemonium
Author:Aldo Leopold
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“When all is said and done, friendship is the only trustworthy fabric of the affections. So-called LOVE is a delirious inhuman state of mind: when hot it substitutes indulgence for fair play; when cold it is cruel, but friendship is warmth in cold, firm ground in a bog.”

MindSaidRealStatesDonePlayFriendshipLove IsColdFairsHotAffectionFirmSubstitutesWarmthState Of MindFabricReal FriendsIndulgenceTrustworthyInhumanSaid And DoneFair PlayDeliriousBogs
Book:The End of My Career
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“A gulf profound as that Serbonian bog Betwixt Damiata and Mount Casius old, Where armies whole have sunk: the parching air Burns frore, and cold performs th' effect of fire. Thither by harpy-footed Furies hal'd, At certain revolutions all the damn'd Are brought, and feel by turns the bitter change Of fierce extremes,-extremes by change more fierce; From beds of raging fire to starve in ice Their soft ethereal warmth, and there to pine Immovable, infix'd, and frozen round, Periods of time; thence hurried back to fire.”

FeelsWholeCertainTimeTurnsFireAirEffectsRevolutionColdPeriodsBedArmyProfoundRoundsExtremesRageBitterIceDamnBitternessWarmthFierceFrozenFuryEtherealParadise Lost Book 2BogsHarpies
Author:John Milton
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