Quotes About Winter

By the 1680s, Venice's canals were freezing solid in winter, something no one alive had ever witnessed.

So safe had the Oregon Trail become that by 1860 the newly formed Pony Express began carrying mail along a 2,000-mile route between St. Joseph, Missouri, and Sacramento, California, completing the circuit in ten days during good weather and fourteen in the dead of winter.

There is anyway a kind of off-color romance to a deserted seaside town in the winter, your heart's opera scored by the sound of the tide crashing over a stony beach, shushing everything as the waves try to make up their mind whether they're leaving or staying. White waves kissing black stones, shushing all around them. Shhh … shhh.

It snowed and snowed, the whole world over,Snow swept the world from end to end.A candle burned on the table;A candle burned.

Sometimes I think I have always been sitting like this. I sometimes think I have always been sitting like this, alone by an indifferent fire, curtains closed, night, winter.

With luck, it might even snow for us.

Age certainly hadn't conferred any smarts on me. Character maybe, but mediocrity is a constant, as one Russian writer put it. Russian writers have a way with aphorisms. They probably spend all winter thinking them up.

With the advent of winter, her eyes seemed to take on a greater transparency, a transparency that lead nowhere. Occassionally, for no particular reason, Naoko would gaze into my eyes as if searching for something. Each time I was filled with odd sensations of lonliness and inadequecy.

There is an instinctive withdrawal for the sake of preservation, a closure that assumes the order of completion. Winter is a season unto itself.

mediocrity is a constant, as one Russian writer put it. Russians have a way with aphorisms. They probably spend all winter thinking them up.

High school girls came bustling along, their rosy red cheeks puffing white breaths you could have written cartoon captions in.

The snowflakes came down like little bits of newspaper

Buch Der Lieder: Lyrisches Intermezzo: 'Es liegt der heisse Sommer' There lies the heat of summer On your cheek's lovely art: There lies the cold of winter Within your little heart. That will change, beloved, The end not as the start! Winter on your cheek then, Summer in your heart.

Reminded of favorite poem by Wendy Cope which goes: At Christmas little children sing and merry bells jingle. The cold winter air makes our hands and faces tingle. And happy families go to church and cheerily they mingle, And the whole business is unbelievably dreadful if you're single.

'Onward' was a song I wrote in Montreux, in Switzerland, when we were there camping out for the whole winter. In the summer, Montreux is a really, really big summertime-touristy, full-of-life kind of place. In the winter, it closes down.

That's why you can't be a true Yankee without winter: because all the best pleasures are earned - the fire, the fried oysters; the warmer seasons, too. Who knows the real worth of summer at the beach without a good taste of the seaside in winter?

Every year I buy a big faux-fur coat for the winter.

If a guy hits .300 every year, what does he have to look forward to? I always tried to stay around .190, with three or four RBI. And I tried to get them all in September. That way I always had something to talk about during the winter.

In recent years, I've begun the year by driving across France to the Alps, abandoning the January gloom for Alpine winter sun, even if the ski-goggles do give you panda marks when you get a tan. As a child, I was always a bit of a billygoat when I'd go camping with my mates in North Wales, around Snowdonia.

Global trade has advantages. For starters, it allows those of us who live through winter to eat fresh produce year-round. And it provides economic benefits to farmers who grow that food.

There's a common misconception that you don't need SPF during the grey winter months, but it's so important to protect skin from UVA/UVB rays year-round.

One thing I always make - and I'm sure this is partly to do with memory and yearning and because I've made it ever since my children were born - I make gingerbread every year. And it's partly just the perfume of the spices in the house, makes it smell like winter to me.

Snowmen come to life during the full moon to devour children.

The end came as dusk fell on a gloomy winter day of cold rain.