Quotes About Cold

The cars on the block were already hidden under a sodden layer of white. People were shoveling their walks and

Canadians are cold so much of the time that many of them leave instructions to be cremated.

A longing for the extraordinary had grabbed ahold of her and was burning her up inside, so hot and fierce that her heart had gone stone cold toward everything and everybody standing in her way. That was Mama. Fire and ice.

The autumn always gets me badly, as it breaks into colours. I want to go south, where there is no autumn, where the cold doesn't crouch over one like a snow-leopard waiting to pounce.

Sydney is rather like an arrogant lover. When it rains it can deny you its love and you can find it hard to relate to. It's not a place that's built to be rainy or cold. But when the sun comes out, it bats its eyelids, it's glamorous, beautiful, attractive, smart, and it's very hard to get away from its magnetic pull.

For a very long time, we've been extraordinarily interested in the interaction between low temperature and low oxygen. We see that they're connected because we know people who are extremely cold are not getting oxygen to their cells. And yet, they're sometimes alive.

If the thought of cold tomato soup makes you shudder, take it from a veteran, it's like a creamy gazpacho, but in a decent society, nobody should have to find out.

Even if major funding is obtained for cold fusion, conceivably the phenomenon could suffer from problems as intractable as those of hot fusion. It may never work reliably or generate enough energy to be commercially viable.

Central heating is my vice - I have it on a bit too much as I am always cold. I try to make up for it in other green ways.

The house I grew up in was a tall Victorian town house in Bristol. There were very big rooms, which were under-furnished and always cold.

It's damp outside, and I'm always cold. Most days I wear a cap and shawl indoors." "I could suggest other methods to keep yourself warm.

Ellen had said that her mother was afraid of the ocean, that it was too cold and too big. The sky was, too, thought Annemarie. The whole world was: too cold, too big. And too cruel.

The moon carries the masks of meningitis into bedrooms, fills the wombs of pregnant women with cold water and, as soon as I'm not careful, throws handfuls of grass on my shoulders.

Stella, Nathan, and Steven looked at each other in the beams of their headlamps, which they'd clicked on as the twilight thickened. The wind moved the trees again. Darkness was growing complete. The rain was turning to sleet. Despite the sweat over her body, Stella's hands were numb with cold, and her fingers were growing uncooperative. A recipe for hypothermia.

she explains the difference between the beautiful and the sublime this way: The stars are beautiful—diamonds, twinkles, something you can wish upon. The space in between the stars is the sublime—cold, black, and infinite, something that inspires awe and fear.

She ran her gaze over his chest with frank appreciation. Then he shivered, realizing he hadn't really considered the weather. It was forty-five degrees max, but Chloe was giving him a go-on gesture with her hand. All I have left is my pants, he said. Yes, please. It's cold, Chloe. She tilted her head. Are you worried about shrinkage? Well, he was now. -Chloe and Sawyer

it's cold enough to freeze the nuts off a brass monkey," Mikey said. The kids giggled. "Mikey said nuts," Nina said. Kate held up a hand, the sign for silence. "The saying comes from the Civil War days, when the cannonballs were stacked in a pyramid formation called a brass monkey. When it got extremely cold outside they'd crack and break off. Breaking the nuts off the brass monkey. Get it?

The cold rain came down in buckets. I was shaking, shivering, and naked, and more soap was getting into my eyes. But hey. At least I was clean.

I am somewhat proud of this, Mab's cold voice said. To be sure, the White Christ never suffered so long or so terribly as did this traitor. Three days on a tree. Hardly enough time for a prelude. When it came to visiting agony, the Romans were hobbyists.

The Winter inside me was torment and agony—but at least when I was immersed in it, I couldn't feel.

It's dark, close, cold, and intensely creepy down there. The fact that it was inhabited by things that had no love for mankind and potential radioactivity to boot didn't do much to boost its tourism industry.

Beer, brewed in cauldrons the size of houses by machines and then served cold. It has no soul. It isn't worthy of the name.

duty was a cold and barren shelter for a wounded spirit.

More than anything, she wanted to be someplace warm and safe--but duty was a cold and barren shelter for a wounded spirit.