Quotes About Snow

Cats are smarter than dogs. You can't get eight cats to pull a sled through snow.

There was the sheer Antarctic landscape, and the mind moving across it like a brush on canvas, until the brush was laid aside, and the snow buried it.

Outside, it snowed; fat, lazy flakes, drifting with soft intention toward the place they were meant to land.

to go into the garden in its snowed-up state is like going into a bath of purity. The first breath on opening the door is so ineffably pure that it makes me gasp, and I feel a black and sinful object in the midst of all the spotlessness.

Blondes make the best victims. They're like virgin snow that shows up the bloody footprints.

Blondes make the best victims. They're like virgin snow that shows up the bloody footprints.

and several gold sovereigns and threw them into the snow at his feet.

She drew him softly downwards to his knees. He sank; he yielded utterly; he obeyed. Her weight was upon him, smothering, delicious. The snow was to his waist.... She kissed him softly on the lips, the eyes, all over his face. And then she spoke his name in that voice of love and wonder, the voice that held the accent of two others—both taken over long ago by Death—the voice of his mother, and of the woman he had loved.

They shared an image of the American Christmas--riches, reconciliations, tears, snow, success, sentiment, furs and firs, the shop windows shining like Heaven and everything good for sale.

Time is a snow globe; you shake it and everything changes.

Zeus rumbles and a mammoth winter of snow pours from the sky; agile rivers are ice. Damn the winter cold! Pile up the burning logs and water the great flagons of red wine; place feather pillows by your head, and drink. Let us not brood about hard times. Bakchos, our solace is in you and your red wines: our medicine of grape. Drink deeply, drink.

Nobody saves America by sniffing cocaine, jiggling your knees blankly in the rain, when it snows in your nose you catch cold in your brain.

And with that, Kat closed her eyes. She didn't see the first flakes of snow fall outside her window. She didn't feel Hale cover her with a blanket. She was already fast asleep.

It'd be fun, you know. Just once. To wake up Christmas morning with snow on the ground and stockings full of presents that no one had to steal and a house that's really home." She reclaimed the teapot and slowly slipped back into the con. "That would be nice. Maybe, someday, we'll steal that." On

Basically, I wear sandals, like Jesus. When it gets cold in Chicago, the snow way up to my knees, I still wear my sandals. But that's me.

Snow isn't just pretty. It also cleanses our world and our senses, not just of the soot and grime of a Fife mining town but also of a kind of weary familiarity, a taken-for-granted quality to which our eyes are all too susceptible.

I like the cold weather better than the hot weather.

I'm not a fan of cold weather.

I love cold weather.

Andean skiing offers an unforgettable combination of beach-style weather, great snow and exotic travel. There are many attractions. Here on the fringes of the Andes, skiers will find few lift queues, tickets 50% cheaper than France, and unique scenery that includes condors and Mount Aconcagua, the highest peak outside the Himalayas.

I don't like cold weather.

I'm attempting to broaden my novels' scope through landscape and weather, leaves falling off trees, overnight storms, timeless elements which, irrespective of human endeavour, have always been there and, as long as there is life and snow, will always be there.

I grew up in suburban New York, and my family wasn't much on traveling, so when I arrived at my alma mater, The Colorado College, I'd never been out West before, seen a 14,000-foot mountain, experienced snow in 70-degree weather, or come into contact with something called a 'dude.'

I have a St Bernard dog. They are very tough to take care of in the tropical weather in Chennai. They usually are found in mountains and the snow.