Quotes About Snow

The night snows stars and the earth creaks.

Through the snowy silver maple trees, he could see the gray stone stronghold of St. Alban's. She was in there, behind one of the diamond-paned windows, a block away and as far out of reach as the moon. On his CD player, Natalie Maines of the Dixie Chicks was crooning, Without you, I'm not okay, and without you, I've lost my way… If he lived through this mess, he was never listening to country music again.

Her rage filled the house, flat stale smoke. It got into everything, into our hair and our food, like the fallout they talked to us about in school that would one day drift down soft as snow.

When the townsfolk emerged from their homes a couple of hours later to raise their faces to the golden sun rising briefly above the distant mountains, they were greeted not with the usual whisper of falling snow, but with clanks and thumps and what may have been Gallifreyan swearwords drifting from the upper section of the Clock Tower. Distracted

The Sufi's book is not of ink and letters; it is nothing but a heart white as snow. Rumi, Mathnawi II: 159

LANA TURNER HAS COLLAPSED!there is no snow in Hollywoodthere is no rain in CaliforniaI have been to lots of partiesand acted perfectly disgracefulbut I never actually collapsedoh Lana Turner we love you get up

A white Christmas fills the churchyard.

Love is life's snow. It falls deepest and softest into the gashes left by the fight - whiter and purer than snow itself.

Voted worst in show the last two years got a refill on my tears another bottle of foam yellowed clear. Old man twitching on the train reminds us of mortality the snow everywhere reminds us of the rain.

Kilimanjaro is a snow-covered mountain 19,710 feet high, and is said to be the highest mountain in Africa. Its western summit is called the Masai 'Ngaje Ngai', the House of God. Close to the western summit there is a dried and frozen carcas of a leopard. No one has explained what the leopard was seeking at that altitude.

Books of natural history make the most cheerful winter reading. I read in Audubon with a thrill of delight, when the snow covers the ground, of the magnolia, and the Florida keys, and their warm sea breezes; of the fence-rail, and the cotton-tree, and the migrations of the rice-bird; of the breaking up of winter in Labrador, and the melting of the snow on the forks of the Missouri; and owe an accession of health to these reminiscences of luxuriant nature.

Why do the skeletons dance so ecstatically, I wonder. Is it the fall of the world? Is it the dance of death which has been so often heralded? To see millions of skeletons dancing in the snow while the city founders is an awesome sight.

I remember, in the winter of our first experiments, just seven years ago, looking on snow with new eyes.

Some years ago I gave a concert in the mountains with snow all around, and that was much colder.

When there's not ten feet of snow on the ground, I ride my bike down the streets of New York, and I literally hear two things out of car windows as cabs pass by me: They either yell, 'Hey, dummy,' or 'Hey, Mayhem.'

Summertime in Montana, I become a monosyllabic baboon. I want to ride with the cowboys, go to brandings, doctor cattle, and train my horses. But in a few months, the snow starts to fly. The days become shorter; the yellow color of interior light becomes delicious. I look at my shelves, and every book just glows, and I want to be inside of that.

Growing up in New York, I was sort of shocked when I realized that my children are Californians. They are 14 years old, and I explain to them frequently that they will never realize the glory of a snow day. You wake up and the world says, 'Oops, it's too much fun to go to school, you've got to stay home and deal with the snow!'

What inspired me to become an author? I think it was the snow in New York. I looked out the window and I said, 'Well, I have to get dressed every morning to go to teach, but if I write a book, I can stay home in my bathrobe, eat candy corn.'

As a professional snowboarder, my livelihood obviously depends on snow. And for me, traveling around the world, chasing the snow, I see the effects of climate change first hand. You can tell the difference.

He saved the production a tremendous amount. Now they did the scene where Omar is on the horse and he's in the deep snow, they went to Finland to do that. That scene they went to Finland for a week. I wasn't around then.

My husband was in the war of the Crimea. It is terrible the hardships he went through, to be two months without going into a house, under the snow in trenches. And no food to get, maybe a biscuit in the day. And there was enough food there, he said, to feed all Ireland; but bad management, they could not get it.

In Moscow I feel most comfortable. I'm used to four different seasons; it's difficult for people in London to understand. People brought up in Russia like my kids want to play in the snow.

Claire. It was the last candle left within the Indian Agent. The last glimmer. He curled himself around it to keep it alive, and when the storm inhaled he studied his right hand, could feel her beside him in the carriage that night and, as if he could insist on this, looked up the depression he was calling a road, for the cabman's blindered horse, huffing through the snow, its lanterns swinging. Claire waiting for him on the worn velvet seat.

Laura went up to the white house with the neatly trimmed yard and the flowers that grew without care. Its colour like blowing snow. Its colour like heaven. She went inside.