Quotes About Snow

I wiped the snow off my face. There was someone waiting for me. And that's the only thing that stops us from freezing solid.

The strength of the snow and the fire has turned you into a traveling magician. You heal people by holding their hands between yours, you make them forget the cold, hunger, sickness, and war.

The snow was too light to stay, the ground too warm to keep it. And the strange spring snow fell only in that golden moment of dawn, the turning of the page between night and day.

The next afternoon break, Miri joined the others outside. The sun's glare off the snow made her eyes water, but it seemed the most beautiful day Miri could remember. The sky was achingly blue. The snow that crunched under her boot spread over stone and hillock like spilled cream. The cold made the world feel clean and new, a day for beginnings.

Far above the snow clouds, the moon must have been bright and full. Its light bled through the storm, marking each flake with a silvery luster and pouring a pale, peachy glow onto the mountain.

In his gaze, rooms of the dead; halls of loss; fog- emerald; driven, dirty-rice snow: he was in there somewhere, I looked for him, and he gave me the gift, he let me in, knowing he would never once, in this world or in any other, have to do it again, and I saw him, not as he really was, I was still without the strength of anger, but I saw him see me, even now that dropping down into trust's affection in his gaze, and I held it, some seconds, quiet, and I said, Good-bye, and he said Good-bye

I didn't forget you. To this day, I have yet to walk through an airport without looking for your face, and every time it snows, I remember what it felt like to kiss you.

I'm still shocked every time I see snow. The first bit of snow each year... I stay up and I watch it. And then I go out and pick it up and eat it and move around in it.

Union of the weakest develops strength not wisdom. Can all men, together, avenge one of the leaves that have fallen in autumn? But the wise man avenges by building his city in snow.

This is, I think, what holiness is: the natural world, where every moment is full of the passion to keep moving. Inside every mind there's a hermit's cave full of light, full of snow, full of concentration. I've knelt there, and so have you, hanging on to what you love, to what is lovely. Mary Oliver, At the Lake

Winter walks up and down the town swinging his censer, but no smoke or sweetness comes from it, only the sour, metallic frankness of salt and snow.

that love us, that is asleep now, and silent- that has turned itself into snow.

Oh my God! said one of the Ambers. Is this not the worst trip ever? Did you see the snow? She was a sharp one, this Amber. What would she notice next? The train? The moon? The hilarious vagaries of human existence? Her own head?

I could envision it all to clearly: Stuart or Debbie finding the dented door off its hinges, lying in the snow. She came in, ravaged the boy, stole plastic bags, and ripped off the door in her escape, the police would say in the APB. Probably making her way to bust her parents out of jail.

It rang and it rand and it rang. I looked at the screen one last time, then at Stuart, and then I reached my arm back and threw the phone as hard as I could (sadly, not that far), and it vanished into the snow. The eight-year-olds, who were truly fascinated with our every move at this point, chased after it. 'Lost it,' I said. 'Whoops.

Oh, I like it," Nate said. "Snow makes it socially acceptable to stay in.

Again, I noticed and again, I didn't really care. But he did make more of an impact than the snow.

Endless white ground below, and swirling flakes, and a lonely whistle of wind, and the shadow of houses.

Felt the world swirling with snow

Let it snow and snow and bury me. Very funny, Life.

When silence falls on the world then there is always one small sound that grows louder. I could hear the whispering and sighing of the snow and this sound was within me and without.

The snow that began at midafternoon had faded the sign's virulent yellow to a kinder pastel shade as the light ran out of the January dusk.

Then she says, 'I love you.' Like three drops of blood falling onto snow.

Cleaning up with children around is like shoveling during a blizzard