Quotes About Cold

Beneficent mother of gods and men… Valiant shepherd who drives his flock, Their refuge, made to sustain them…. He makes the seasons with the months, Heat as he wishes, cold as he wishes…. Every land rejoices at his rising, Every day gives praise to him.

my earliest memories of the snow are unhappy ones. I stepped into a snow drift that was so deep I sank in up to my waist and couldn't get out.

In the winter everyones hate was bare if you looked. She saw hate in the icicles that hung from her window; she saw it in the dirty slush on the streets; she heard it in the hail that scratched her window and bit her face; she could see it in the lowered heads hurrying to warm homes …

Ya dont want yadinner taget cold, doya?

In the winter everyones hate was bare if you looked.

the air just went cold, as it did those times before, and started sticking to my skin, on my arms and legs and face, everywhere. I had seen a marble statue in a museum, a well built man doubled over throwing something, and the feeling reminded me of him. It was as if I was starting to be made of marble.

COLD. "Cold," he said, and understood. Cold was the meaning for his shivering body, the steaming billows of his breath, the trickleways of water down the windows

Why then had he no past before he found the word cold in his mouth? He squatted down on the poor warped floorboards, shivering, rubbing himself for warmth, trying to remember. For a long time he squatted like a bird, for birds have no past or future but only an eternal present.

here in a place as far from God as one can go and still freeze.

They remove to York, that cold and godless place, where not even the devil could get warm.

His fellow monks carried him back to his cell and laid him on the hard cot that had been his bed for the last twenty years. He was an old man now and there was nothing to be done. His eyes had the cold sheen of death. A brother went to fetch the abbot so that the old fellow might make his last confession.

The head had been impaled on a railing outside the Royal Courts of Justice in the Strand in the early hours of a cold November morning. There was a fine dusting of frost on the corpse's hair and eyelids which gave it a festive touch.

snowdrifts, that is. Inside the church, chaos

I am the land, the bones of the hills," he said fiercely, "I am the winter. When I am dead, I will come for you all in the coldest nights.

I'm the land and the bones of the hills. I'm winter. When I die, I'll pursue you in the coldest nights.

The cold was an enemy, yet it kept the tribes strong. The old did not suffer for long in such bitter winters. The weakling children perished quickly. His son would not be one of those.

There are wolves in these mountains," he said. "Some of my men have hunted them for skins. They will find you here tonight and at first they will only watch. As the cold makes you weak, they will come closer and begin to nuzzle your legs and hands. They'll scatter when you call out and move, but they won't go far and they'll come back with more courage. When they start to tear your flesh, when the smell of blood excites them, think of me then.

I assure you, I am not going to ravage you." He sat back aon his heels. "Not only is it unmanly, and thus un-Scotslike, it's too bloody cold." (Kit MacNeill

The hiss was now becoming a roar—the whole world was a vast moving screen of snow—but even now it said peace, it said remoteness, it said cold, it said sleep.

In the north, we remember, our grief had reasons: confinement and cold, the pipes frozen, new snow so deep you wake, look out, and sink back into the week-long loneliness.

stood at the door zipping, buttoning, fastening; it's what people in Wyoming do before they go outside in late December.

We stood at the door zipping, buttoning, fastening; it's what people in Wyoming do before they go outside in late December.

I would rather a romantic relationship turn into contempt than turn into apathy. The passion in the extremities make it appear as though it once meant something. We grow from hot or cold, but lukewarm is the biggest insult.

our days are no different from the past, except in the number of tyrants, their systematic methods and the cold logic with which they lead the world to madness