Quotes About Winter

Foggier yet, and colder! Piercing, searching, biting cold.

Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven,

Two other passengers, besides the one, were plodding up the hill by the side of the mail. All three were wrapped to the cheekbones

Through the same cold sunlight, colder as the day declines, and through the same sharp wind, sharper as the separate shadows of bare trees gloom together in the woods, and as the Ghost's Walk, touched at the western corner by a pile of fire in the sky, resigns itself to coming night, they drive into the park.

The cold within him froze his old features, nipped his pointed nose, shrivelled his cheek, stiffened his gait; made his eyes red, his thin lips blue; and spoke out shrewdly in his grating voice. A frosty rime was on his head, and on his eyebrows, and his wiry chin. He carried his own low temperature always about with him; he iced his office in the dog-days; and didn't thaw it one degree at Christmas.

Occasionally, the smoke came rolling down the chimney as though it could not bear to go out into such a night;

Winter giveth the fields, and the trees so old, Their beards of icicles and snow...

Of winter's lifeless world each tree Now seems a perfect part; Yet each one holds summer's secret Deep down within its heart.

snowflakes fall from the sky in peppermint perfection — i kiss you with quivering lips but cold is not the reason — you set my winter heart on fire and keep me warm all season

How like a winter hath my absence been From thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year! What freezings have I felt, what dark days seen! What old December's bareness every where!

October's Autumn casts a gentle light and a calm serenity before the stark barrenness of Winter is born to November

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.

When winter gets deep into languishing hearts, poetry promises spring.

Winter surfaces in the poet by late summer, and spring is already in his inkpot with the first snow.

There's no one season such delight can bring As summer, autumn, winter, and the spring.

winter sneaks up on me before summer ends in my heart the spring blossoms arrive when my mind is still snowed in

in a winter fireplace burns the fantasy of spring — wildflowers flaming across a lush wooded landscape

September flits through the year on golden autumnal wings — it lands on the leaves of October which wilt and drift into winter —

Snowflakes are kisses from heaven.

The snow is sparkling like a million little suns.

When snow falls, nature listens.

Snowmen fall from heaven — unassembled.

They were an end-of-days couple, not naked in a garden but wrapped in layers in a snow-covered landscape where there were no more apples on the trees and women would no longer have to take the blame because the old lie had been covered over by snow.

The awesome silence of the place crept up on her. The spruce and pines, all still laden with snow, spread their limbs in a frozen ballet, breathing a ghostly incense from dark, arid chapels sheltered by their branches.