Quotes About Snow

During the long winters, when all around is white, geothermal energy keeps many of the mini-pitches green. In Reykjavík 99.9 per cent of properties are heated by scalding water that rises from the earth. Most of the waste water – that which is unused by houses – heats the streets in the centre of town. The rest keeps mini-pitches around the capital free from snow.

The wastes of snow on the hill were ghostly in the moonlight. The stars were piercingly bright.

I followed your footsteps," he said, in answer to the unspoken question. "Snow makes it easy." I had been tracked, like a bear. "Sorry to make you go to all that trouble," I said. "I didn't have to go that far, really. You're about three streets over. You just kept going in loops." A really inept bear.

Nature has no mercy at all. Nature says, "I'm going to snow. If you have on a bikini and no snowshoes, that's tough. I am going to snow anyway."

smoke, spattered with grey-black debris, coming faster and thicker, eager to escape the brick maw and billow across the unbroken sky. 'Go on...go!' Tania said, exhilarated, raising her arms above her, scattering the sparrows from the trees, who fluttered through the grey snow and beyond it, singing their journey as they flew.

Me gusta cómo se amontona la nieve en lo alto de los postes telefónicos y se acumula en los cables formando líneas blancas finas y alargadas. Hay huecos donde se han posado los pájaros, como si estuvieran deletreando mensajes en código morse. Punto punto punto. Raya raya raya. Punto punto punto.

The snow had turned to glass, growing green and blue; a rose colour filled our eyes until they almost died. We stayed until we too felt that we too were metamorphosing into trees. We could feel the frost-cold roots beneath our feet, growing, binding us to to the ground.

It was late January in Draper, Utah, and as picturesque as the snow on the mountains was, it did not mix well with our modern lifestyle.

Puck helped her out the door, wrapping his arm around her and guiding her through the snowdrifts.

And then there's the snow ... on the roof of the house. You see, I grew up in a desert. I don't understand this snow stuff. At home, in New Mexico, water knew its place. It stayed in reservoirs and pipes and and sinks and such. It didn't do anything MESSY ... like fall from the God-deleted sky. I mean, the SKY! for crying out. What the halibut is it doing falling from the SKY? That's where you keep airplanes. And birds. And stuff. Not water. I mean, come on. Let's get with the program, here.

The sun rose on a world so uniformly white that it forced them to squint against its brilliant reflection. Glass

an unremarkable wardrobe within which snow falls on a faun.

I think my favorite sport in the Olympics is the one in which you make your way through the snow, you stop, you shoot a gun, and then you continue on. In most of the world, it is known as the biathlon, except in New York City, where it is known as winter.

It's snowing." Rhys looked up at the light flakes that had started to drift down. "Yes, it is." I grimaced as I got smacked in the eyeball with a large wet flake when I looked up.

Snow, delicate snow, that falls with such lightness on the head, on the feelings, come and cover over the sadness that lies always in my reason. from "The Snowfall Is So Silent

By?o pogodnie, minus dwadzie?cia stopni.

I thought for so long that time was like a line, that our moments were laid out like dominoes, and that they fell, one into another and on it went, just days tipping, one into the next, in a long line between the beginning...and the end. But I was wrong. It's not like that at all. Our moments fall around us like rain. Or snow. Or confetti. (Nell Crain, The Haunting of Hill House)

It was colder that winter than I knew cold could be, even though the girl from Minnesota down the hall declared it "nothing." Out in Oregon, snow had been a gift, a two-day dusting earned by enduring months of gray, dripping sky. But the wind whipping up the Hudson from the city was so vehement that even my bone marrow froze. Every morning, I hunkered under my duvet, unsure of how I'd make it to my 9:00 a.m. Latin class. The clouds spilled endless white and Ev slept in.

O vreme, oraÈ™ul a fost blând È™i familiar, È™tiam str?duÈ›ele È™i cl?dirile din jurul casei noastre, peste care ningea acum greu, uscat, foÈ™nind uÈ™or. ... Dup? un timp de tors leneÈ™, oraÈ™ul a început îns? s? mârâie ca un animal iritat. Nu mai È™tiam drumul... oraÈ™u-a-nceput s? rag? ca un leu din toate cl?dirile lui necunoscute, din str?zile necunoscute, din ochii oamenilor necunoscuÈ›i.

Snow contains oxygen, which scatters light across the visible spectrum, making it appear white. Compacting squeezes out the oxygen, and the compacted ice crystals that remain absorb long light waves and reflect short waves. The shortest light waves are violet and blue. And so, the ice at the cold heart of Greenland is blue.

Am I drunk?" he asked Crewcut. "You're not drunk, Boss," Crewcut replied. "How could a superior individual like you be drunk? People around here who get drunk are the dregs of society, illiterates, uncouth people. Highbrow folks, those of the 'spring snow,' cannot get drunk. You're a highbrow, therefore you cannot be drunk.

My head was so light. Wind sang through the field grass. The same wind brushed hair off my face, soft as my mother's hand, and when the falling snow started to clump into flakes, each thick flake came down with the love of a frozen kiss, like somebody was saving up, freezing their warm love for later.

You'd have thought Louise was the snow itself, falling all around me, muffling the cold and the wind even as she was the source of it.

Winter bites with its teeth or lashes with its tail.