Quotes About Winter

The devil loves these short, dark days.

It seemed to me that winter was the time for love, not spring. In winter the habitable world was so much contracted; out of that little shut-in space we lived in, fantastic hopes might bloom. But spring revealed the ordinary geography of the place; the long, brown roads, the old cracked sidewalks underfoot, all the tree branches broken off in winter storms, that had to be cleared out of the yards. Spring revealed distances, exactly as they were.

and there was still a lot of soft snow in the bush. We

And where there is snow most people recognize the fact of winter and take more than half-hearted measures to keep their houses warm.

El invierno cae con dureza sobre el campo, se asienta en él como la capa de hielo de tres metros de profundidad hace miles de años. La gente vive envuelta en el invierno de un modo que los extraños no comprenden. Mantienen una actitud precavida, previsora, tranquila, animosa.

face that journey again in the winter." Arthur did not answer, and when she turned to look at him, she saw that

Alistair Moffat

Olyan rendben tartsd a hazugságaidat, mint a télire eltett vet?magot.

The man screamed and screamed behind his mask, and the Bloody-Nine laughed and twisted the blade. Logen might have pitied him, but Logen was far away and the Bloody-Nine had no more pity in him than the winter. Less, even.

In the winter, when you're cold, the world extends no more than a foot in any direction.

When it snows, that's just God's way of still not existing.

One wastes so much time, one is so prodigal of life, at twenty! Our days of winter count for double. That is the compensation of the old.

Memory is the best of all gardens. Therein, winter and summer, the seeds of their past lie dormant, ready to spring into instant bloom at any moment the mind wishes to bring them to life.

In winter we lead a more inward life. Our hearts are warm and cheery, like cottages under drifts.

Cheerfulness ought to be the viaticum vitae of their life to the old; age without cheerfulness is a Lapland winter without a sun.

Although farming of any sort was almost as impossible in the plains as in the dry regions of winter rains farther west, the abundance of buffaloes made life much easier in many respects.

There is nothing more energizing than inhaling the tang of wilderness, loamy after rain, pungent with the richness of earth shuddering with life, or taking in the brisk dry cleanness of winter.

The crisp path through the field in this December snow, in the deep dark, where we trod the buried grass like ghosts on dry toast.

Our snow was not only shaken from whitewash buckets down the sky, it came shawling out of the ground and swam and drifted out of the arms and hands and bodies of the trees; snow grew overnight on the roofs of houses like a pure and grandfather moss, minutely white-ivied the walls and settled on the postman, opening the gate, like a dumb, numb thunderstorm of white, torn Christmas cards.

Don't eat yellow snow.

Fat Angie led the pack of runners as the town went from yawn to full awake. Dryfalls was abuzz with the sight. Snow sticking to the sidewalks, windshields, rooftops. Still they all ran. Together.

Captain America: Damn you, you fool! Hasn't there been enough death today? Colonel Karpov: You do not understand...you cannot. You and the Germans, you have your super-soldiers...your secret weapons...But we Russians...we have nothing but our winter.

I'll obey them in the winter when the doctors say to me I must give up ham and spinach, and obedient I'll be. To relieve my indigestion in December they can try, But there's none of them can stop me when it's time for cherry pie.

We went too far when we put on the fur of lynxes, Of weasels trapped in winter when they've lost their tan; We went too far when we let the fox assist us To warm the hide that houses the soul of Man. The reek of the leopard and the stink of the inky cat Striped handsomely with white, are in the concert hall; We sleekly writhe from under them, and are above all that; But, the concert over, back into our pelts we crawl.