Quotes About Snow

I mean, I'm pretty good in real life, but sometimes people seem surprised that I'm like a normal teenager and wear black nail polish and I'm just a little bit more edgy than the person I play on television.

two and two there floated into my inmost soul, endless processions of the whale, and, mid most of them all, one grand hooded phantom, like a snow hill in the air.

It's like you had a coming-out party," Andrea said. "You've been presented to polite society, except now everybody wants to kill you." "Spare me." "Kate Daniels, a debutante." Andrea grinned. "It's not funny." "It's hilarious." The smile slid off Andrea's face and she vomited on the snow. "Karma," I told her.

First of all, I have to have trucks because I live most of my time on a horse farm, so I've gotta have trucks. It's in the northeast; I've got to have pickup trucks to move snow, number one. Number two, just if I'm driving, I don't have to have an SUV, but I want a big car.

Never open a book with weather. There are exceptions. If you happen to be Barry Lopez, who has more ways to describe ice and snow than an Eskimo, you can do all the weather reporting you want.

Skijoring is just something that people want to see, it's like Ben Hur on snow, the modern way. I love the speed, the adrenalin rush is something special. It's just unique.

Starlight played on its swirling surface two hundred paces away. Moths fluttered like flecks of snow fleeing the warm wind. Neither man spoke for a long while.

If you dare try to leave me behind, I'll follow on foot, and when I die in the snow, Ill come back and haunt you. I'll make your life a complete misery. No ghost will ever have been as inventive in its nastiness as I'll be: I'll turn your food rancid; I'll transform your drink into blood; I'll howl and moan throughout the night; there'll be no place safe from me. And don't think I couldn't do it, Thirrin, Queen of Icemark, because I can assure you, I could.

The snow lay thin and apologetic over the world. That wide grey sweep was the lawn, with the straggling trees of the orchard still dark beyond; the white squares were the roofs of the garage, the old barn, the rabbit hutches, the chicken coops. Further back there were only the flat fields of Dawson's farm, dimly white-striped. All the broad sky was grey, full of more snow that refused to fall. There was no colour anywhere.

I played soccer in the Alps when I was a kid. There was a blizzard that happened. And little local German kids were out there shoveling lines. Keeping it moving.

The ancient feud between cat and dog is not forgotten in the north, for the Lynx is the deadly foe of the Fox and habitually kills it when there is soft snow and scarcity of easier prey.

A snowflake falls, so tenderly on your lips, I have learned to love this winter.

...winter crescent resting in the high pine bough - you fly through the woods like a lone snow bird...

The first snow is like the first love. Do you remember your first snow?

I had always thought, for 'Roman Empire, ' I would love to do the death of Marcus Aurelius in the snow. One morning I woke up, and it was really snowing.

It is snowing. The flakes stream into the torchlight like a crowd flowing across a bridge, each one unknowably different, all exactly the same. But look up and the snow piles out of the dark like a weightless waterfall, tumbling from a black nowhere to your face. Snow at night is like the roof falling in, quietly.

And then one afternoon it began to snow. Snow dusted the lawn in front of my cottage; dusted the bare branches of the trees; outlined disregarded things, outlined the empty, old-looking buildings around the lawn that I hadn't yet paid attention to or fully taken in; so that piece by piece, while I considered the falling snow, a rough picture of my setting built up around me.

Blue shadows stretched out over the snow, cast by a pale thin light shining somewhere behind me, and as my breath rose in quick clouds around my face, the snow crunched: some large creature, picking its way toward the sleigh.

I cried over beautiful things knowing no beautiful thing lasts. The field of cornflower yellow is a scarf at the neck of the copper sunburned woman, the mother of the year, the taker of seeds. The northwest wind comes and the yellow is torn full of holes, new beautiful things come in the first spit of snow on the northwest wind, and the old things go, not one lasts.

Afuera seguía nevando y me pareció que las estrellas se habían caído del cielo sin avisar.

We hurried out of the lodge. Dana was walking into the woods--toward the spot where we saw the monster! We ran across the snow and ducked into the woods. Ahead of us, we could hear Dana's footsteps crunching on the snow and ice. Crunch, crunch, crunch. Dana marched quickly along the path. "She's not out for a stroll, that's for sure," I whispered. "She's walking too fast.

The Connecticut River March 2, 1704 Temperature 10 degrees The Indians, it seemed, had paused here on their journey south from Canada to go hunting before the battle. Under the snow were stored the carcasses of twenty moose. Twenty! Eben had to count them himself before he could believe it, and even then, he could not believe it. Eben was no hunter. If he'd gotten one moose, it would have been pure luck.

A dozen deer stood in the pasture right across the fence. The big buck held his head proud and tall, antlers gathering snow as he watched over his harem. Isn't he majestic? She turned around so she could keep an eyes on him longer. Not as majestic as you look in that coat, he said. It's a work coat, for God's sake, Finn, and that's a horrible pickup line. Just stating facts.

The burden of grief she had carried with her to the hillside earlier was gone, vanquished by the storm of his loving. She'd left it amid the fallen leaves of autumn, beneath the scattering of winter snow that covered three graves. She'd buried it beneath the frozen ground that held prisoner the body of the baby boy she'd borne and buried by herself.