Quotes About Frost

Everything was frozen up and silent that morning. Even the wind was silent, but not really dead. It waved about a little and beat its tail gently against the hard sky. There was no sun yet. The sky was empty. It was all frozen up, like a sheet hanging out in the frost.

At a bend in the river, an upland stream fell into the Middle Mother, which itself came from higher ground. The marrow-chilling air had caught and stilled the waters in the act of falling, and the strong dry winds had sculpted them into strange and grotesque shapes. Caricatures of living creatures captured by frost, poised to begin a headlong flight down the course of the long river, seemed to be waiting impatiently, as if knowing the turning of the season, and their release, was not far off.

For now, I had to be hard and white. In the frosty days, in the winter, the ground is white, then the sun rises,, and the frosts melt...

It's cold out there, colder than a ticket taker's smile at the Ivar Theatre on a Saturday night.

Jäärouva kumarsi kauniit kasvonsa oravan puoleen ja raaputti sitä korvan takaa hajamielisenä. Orava katsoi lumoutuneena häneen, suoraan hänen kylmiin, sinisiin silmiinsä. Jäärouva hymyili ja jatkoi matkaaansa. Mutta hänen askeltensa jäljillä makasi orava jäykkänä ja kylmänä, pienet jalat ilmassa. - Nyt kävi huonosti, sanoi Tuu-tikki kipakasti ja veti lakin korvilleen.

Death lies on her like an untimely frost Upon the sweetest flower of all the field.

Aveva visto il gelo disegnare motivi simili a foglie sul vetro, gocce di pioggia scorrere come lacrime su vecchie guance, il primo sole di primavera splendere polveroso sul tappeto turco e sulle assi di quercia macchiate del pavimento.

Overhead the night was a superb arch of clear frost, sifted with stars.

The room was cold as the grave.

I was all wrapped up, the streetlamps and lighted windows were glittering, the frost bit into our faces, our lips felt like frozen crusts of bread, our cheeks as smooth and cold as porcelain. Sky and street were nothing but snow, we were driving into a great big snowball.

Trees of ice grow blue fruits the size of peaches, encased in a frozen crust. Some have fallen and split open like candy apples. The scent is that of honey and spice and sap. The leaves of the trees give off a haunting sound not unlike wind chimes when the air blows through the branches.

THOUGHTS ON A STILL NIGHT Before my bed, the moon is shining bright, I think that it is frost upon the ground. I raise my head and look at the bright moon, I lower my head and think of home.

In my headlamp the dogs looked like ghosts, glistening with frost and half obscured in a cloud of their own frozen breaths. The clinking of the hardware on the collars and harnesses made music in the quite of the night.

May and October, the best-smelling months? I'll make a case for December: evergreen, frost, wood smoke, cinnamon.

Robert Frost had a house in Bennington, Vermont, and I had a friend, the poet Mary Ruefle, who was the caretaker of it when it was owned by Norman Lear, the TV producer. She got a grant to go to Scotland, and she had to be gone six or nine months, so I moved in, and my job was just to make sure the ravage didn't overtake the place.

within the frosted bushes. It was only in

Freezing kills the flavor.

Frost grows on the window glass, forming whorl patterns of lovely translucent geometry. Breathe on the glass, and you give frost more ammunition. Now it can build castles and cities and whole ice continents with your breath's vapor. In a few blinks you can almost see the winter fairies moving in . . . But first, you hear the crackle of their wings.

In winter there is no heat, no light, no noon, evening touches morning, there is fog, and mist, the window is frosted, and you cannot see clearly. The sky is but the mouth of a cave. The whole day is the cave.... Frightful season! Winter changes into stone the water of heaven and the heart of man.

Behold the groves that shine with silver frost, their beauty withered, and their verdure lost!

The head had been impaled on a railing outside the Royal Courts of Justice in the Strand in the early hours of a cold November morning. There was a fine dusting of frost on the corpse's hair and eyelids which gave it a festive touch.

It was one of those late summer days that sometimes showed up in early October after a killing frost—warm, dry, and hazy; Indian summer. The term is over two hundred years old and was first coined by the French American writer John Hector St. John de Crèvecoeur in 1778, describing the warm calm before the winter storm.

It was one of those late summer days that sometimes showed up in early October after a killing frost—warm, dry, and hazy; Indian summer. The term is over two hundred years old, coined in 1778 by the French American writer J. Hector St. John de Crèvecoeur to describe the warm calm before the winter storm.

Thus tea, coffee, alcohol stimulate. So do heights, wet days, south-west gales, hotel bedrooms in Paris and windows overlooking harbours. Also snow, frost, the electric bell outside a cinema at night, sex-life and fever.