Quotes About Snow

A whirl of thick flakes emerged from an irony-grey infinity, almost obscuring Granta House.

Outside, the last of the light had long been extinguished. The snow was still falling. Where it caught the porch glow through the window it was bathed in a pale-gold, melancholy light. We sat there in peaceful silence, watching its hypnotic descent.

Ateina Kal?dos, ir aš pradedu galvoti apie snieg?. Rimti, praktiški žmon?s pasakys: tai sentimentalu. Bet tas nieko nepad?s. Aš vis galvoju apie snieg?. Kal?dos ir sniegas man beveik tas pats. Labai labai nekrikš?ioniška, kai kas pasakys. Bet tai netiesa. Aš žinau, Dievas myli snieg? lygiai kaip aš... nes jis j? padar?...

Ah, you realists! I am not ashamed of my romanticism. Ah, you, abstractionists: I will confess to you my passion for objects, earth, nature. Should I pretend I am a stone when emotions, memories surge and overflow me, and I am dreaming of home, and melting snow?

We try to hide it every way we can, but it always comes out, the lyricism. A Lithuanian connot live without nature. You can't detach him from the wide, green fields, from the brooks, the snow, the cobwebs flying through the air in late September, or from his forests, fragrant with moss and beries.

Voltando le spalle al pilota e alla muta scatenata, mi misi a singhiozzare: le lacrime mi si gelavano sul viso, piangevo per la mia infanzia, per quel tempo in cui la neve era un piacere senza fine, in cui una città era uno spazio meraviglioso per vivere e una foresta non era ancora un posto comodo per uccidere la gente.

After a wet and muddy day in London I've seen the trains pull into Charing Cross with snow piled on the roofs of the carriages, and felt a foot taller for joy that I was one of those fortunate who might step into a train and go down into a white countryside.

There was a brief silence. I think I heard snow falling.

We guard the edge of the world," Dawnstripe told him. "The other Clans sit cozy in their marshes and woods, fed by the river and sheltered by our moor. They never know the true taste of the wind or the scent of first snow. There's no Clan cat faster or more nimble than a WindClan cat.

All kits get fevers!" Sandpaw retorted. "With his thick fur, he'll recover in no time. That coat's going to be handy in leaf-bare, perfect for hunting in the snow. The prey'll never see him coming, and he'll be able to stay out twice as long as thin-pelts like Longtail!

at the sight of the snow that capped the highest crags.

Will you be all right driving in this snow?" She found that hilarious. "This is not snow," she said. "Where I'm from, you know, you have snow when you can't find your car the next morning.

Oh, I could still(Like melting snow upon some craggy hill)Drop, drop, drop, drop,Since nature's pride is, now, a wither'd daffodil.

Emerging from the train, I found it was fully night, the air excited by foreboding and something else, something like the feel of a childhood snow day when time was emancipated from institutions, when the snow seemed like a technology for defeating time, or like defeated time itself falling from the sky, each glittering ice particle an instant gifted back from your routine.

Well, I make a practice of not commenting on the role of the relative exchange value of our currency.

I know that New York is big - there are huge buildings - but, in fact, it's quite small and contained... I like it when cities are melancholic. When it started snowing, for example, I felt very lonely. I felt very comfortable and very relaxed. When that happens, I write. So I've been writing, not a lot, but I'm inspired every day.

Children digest terror differently. The boy saw a horror, and that horror became the wicked witch of fairy tales, the cruel snow queen.

One snowy April night, I felt so lonely. I was drinking warm amaretto with Bleecker and reading, lying on the floor as the snow came down, listening to old scratchy albums, like Nick and I used to

Four Herefords stood nearby, unmoving in the snow, finding the humans unworrying. Limited imaginations. Diondra

As they rode, the empty sky and snow melted into each other, making Pinmei feel as if they were sailing on a vast white sea. When

Switzerland is only bearable covered with snow, Aunt Augusta said, like some people are only bearable under a sheet.

Hunger exaggerated the cold. It was a long, hard winter, with snow falling on the mountains around us every other day.

In this part of the world, only Maine gives winter the welcome and the worship it should have.

What is striking in Minnesota is the invisible horizon line. On a grey day, when there's snow on the ground, the sky and the ground are one tone. Everyone appears to be hanging in mid-air.