Quotes About Winter

Winter came early that year. Snow filled the gray December air like fragments of torn-up hope

There was nothing very cheerful about the cold, and yet there was an air of cheerfulness that the cleverest summer air and brightest summer sun couldn't have compared with. Everyone was in this together.

In binghamton, new york, winter meant snow, and though I was young when we left, I was able to recall great heaps of it, and use that memory as evidence that North Carolina was, at best, a third-rate institution. What little snow there was would usually melt an hour or two after hitting the ground, and there you'd be in your windbreaker and unconvincing mittens, forming a lumpy figure made mostly of mud. Snow Negroes, we called them. The

It's from Scandinavia! This, we learned, was the name of a region, a cold and forsaken place where people stayed indoors and plotted the death of knobs.

Also it's so cold here, too cold to do anything but sit in front of the space heater. Right now I'm wearing long underwear, a flannel shirt, a pajama shirt, a sweater, a jacket, a coat, and a hat. Inside.

It was going to be a long winter.

here in the summer desert, winter found my blood

The sound of the freezing of snow over the land seemed to roar deep into the earth. There was no moon. The stars, almost too many of them to be true, came forward so brightly that it was as if they were falling with the swiftness of the void.

The notes went out crystalline into the clean winter morning, to sound on the far, snowy peaks.

Un après-midi de janvier où la température était descendue à moins trente avec un vent à faire pleurer un ours polaire...

Winter had stripped the garden and grounds to their bones. Dead grass crunched beneath Michael's boots as he and Ada walked toward the ruin. Easy to see why Christmas would be necessary at this time of year. Warmth and green seemed like far memories. But the holiday could provide a welcome break from the relentless gray and chill.

The cold Camellia only, stiff and white, Rose without perfume, lily without grace, When chilling winter shows his icy face, Blooms for a world that vainly seeks delight.

He was already tired of the rain. He never took long to grow weary of it in winter, though he liked it in the summertime when it fell hard, silver and green, and afterward steamed from the backs of horses, steamed up from the railroad ties and lay in a mist along Town Creek. In summer, the birds sang after a rain, but no such music rose from the cold drizzle of the dead time. Only silence, and only the dark.

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 …

In the winter everyones hate was bare if you looked.

Nature looks dead in winter because her life is gathered into her heart. She withers the plant down to the root that she may grow it up again fairer and stronger. She calls her family together within her inmost home to prepare them for being scattered abroad upon the face of the earth.

One day in the 1930s, as winter approached and Jan was preparing to return to his parents' home, he asked Pulika to pose for a photo. Pulika asked, "Why do you need a photo of me? Are you going to betray me to the police?" Jan replied that he wanted the photo to remember him by. Pulika responded, "If you need a piece of paper to remember me by, forget me.

This was the winter of 2008/9. Work was ongoing to reinstate a tram system in the city. A lot of people couldn't see the point of trams and many more disliked the disruption. Streets were closed off. There was almost a sense of 'apartheid' as the roadworks made it difficult to move from New Town to Old Town and vice versa. Added to which, the weather was fairly grim. And the banks looked ready to implode.

snowdrifts, that is. Inside the church, chaos

Lies and half-truths fall like snow, covering the things that I remember, the things I saw. A landscape, unrecognizable after a snowfall; that is what she has made of my life.

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.

Winter is our time. They shut up their cities for the cold months. They put their horses in stables and sit around great fires in enormous houses of stone. If you want a bearskin, do you attack in summer when it is strong and fast, or cut its throat as it sleeps?

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