Quotes About Winter

Q: What do you get when you cross a snowman with a vampire? A: Frostbite.

hazy October sky. A muted lime-green aurora shimmered behind the clouds as if the black birds were swimming against a frothy tide. The hardwood trees on the surrounding Appalachian slopes were gone to gold and scarlet, and the strange light hinted at the gray winter waiting ahead. One of the crows

shimmered behind the clouds as if the black birds were swimming against a frothy tide. The hardwood trees on the surrounding Appalachian slopes were gone to gold and scarlet, and the strange light hinted at the gray winter waiting ahead. One of the crows turned, and its eyes flashed with fire. A blood-chilling caw cracked the brittle air. Rachel slid her

You don't want to spend much time in Germany or even France in the winter unless you're in the Alps.

Winter is the time of love and of taking the light within.

Winter in # Maine is a time of alternating rest and frenzied activity.

But I will wear white - the whitest white! - purest most pristine white! - through the dark terrible days of winter - as no man of our time will ever dare.

We didn't have time to go tobogganing, because we didn't have the toboggan.

I didn't know at the time I was writing Because of Winn-Dixie where the story came from, but in retrospect I can see that it was a response to a terribly harsh winter here in Minnesota.

If youve ever lived in Chicago, anyone who has, they know what a winter in Chicago is like. To be going through a tough time here in the winter would be just be all the more worse.

It is winter time, my friend; buy couple of breads; find a place calm and quiet and feed the birds; and for this action of yours, ask no more reward than their cheerful singings!

I know the look of an apple that is roasting and sizzling on the hearth on a winter's evening, and I know the comfort that comes of eating it hot, along with some sugar and a drench of cream... I know how the nuts taken in conjunction with winter apples, cider, and doughnuts, make old people's tales and old jokes sound fresh and crisp and enchanting.

Five and twenty sturdy budges, bulks, files, clapperdogeons and maunders, counting the dells and doxies and other morts. Most are here, the rest are wandering eastward, along the winter lay. We follow at dawn.

Often I wish this would all be over, Liesel, but then somehow you do something like walk down the basement steps with a snowman in your hands.

Somewhere in all the snow, she could see her broken heart, in two pieces.

Somewhere in all the snow, she could see her broken heart, in two pieces. Each half was glowing, and beating under all that white.

It felt as though the whole globe was dressed in snow. Like it has pulled it on, the way you pull on a sweater. Next to the train line, footprints were sunken to their shins. Trees wore blankets of ice. As you may expect, someone has died.

As we walk back, it feels like the city is engulfing us. Adrenalin still pours through our veins. Sparks flow through to our fingers. We've still been running in the mornings, but the city's different then. It's filled with hope and with bristles of winter sunshine. In the evening, it's like it dies, waiting to be born again the next morning.

a young man was hung by a rope made of Stalingrad snow

I don't really know that this story has a whole lot of things happen in it. It doesn't really. It's just a record of how things were in my life during this last winter. I guess things happened, but nothing out of the ordinary.

I tell me: Let these words be footsteps, because I have a long way to travel. Let the words walk the dirty streets. Let them make their way across the crying grass. Let them stand and breathe and pant smoke in winter evenings. And when they're tired and have fallen down, let them buckle to their feet ad arc around me, watchful. I want these words to be actions. Give them flesh and bones, I say to me, and eyes of hunger and desire, so they can write and fight me through the night.

The buildings appear to be glued together, mostly small houses and apartment blocks that looked nervous. There is murky snow spread out like carpet. There is concrete, empty hat-stand trees, and gray air.

CHRISTMAS GREETINGS FROM MAX VANDENBURG "Often I wish this would all be over, Liesel, but then somehow you do something like walk down the basement steps with a snowman in your hands.

It felt as though the whole globe was dressed in snow. Like it had pulled it on, the way you pull on a sweater.