Best 1 130 of Winter quotes - MyQuotes
Cindee Snider Re
Sustained loss can sometimes seem never-ending, like a bleak, eternal winter of the soul. Yet spring always returns. Even on the heels of the longest, coldest winter, tender new growth emerges from once frozen soil.
The air was so sweet in New Orleans it seemed to come in soft bandannas; and you could smell the river and really smell the people, and mud, and molasses, and every kind of tropical exhalation, with your nose suddenly removed from the dry ices of a Northern winter.
Pretty it's pretty good for me because I'm over here in the winters. It's really improved my golf game.
Spring, summer, and fall fill us with hope; winter alone reminds us of the human condition.
Late February days; and now, at last, Might you have thought that Winter's woe was past; So fair the sky was and so soft the air.
There is but one season of the year when salmon should be served hot at a choice repast; that is in the spring and early summer, and even then it is too satisfying, nut sufficiently delicate. The man who gives salmon during the winter, I care not what sauce he serves with it, does an injury to himself and his guests.
The Steadfast Love of the Lord is not Seasonal; His Mercies do not have winter or summer days... They are new every now and then.
A good fisherman can secure many regenerative hours in winter, polishing up the rods and reels.
I found out about Jonathan Winters death a day after it happened. That seems wrong. A talent like his should be more revered. The world knew about Kim Kardashians divorce before she did.
The mind is the great poem of winter, the man, Who, to find what will suffice, Destroys romantic tenements Of rose and ice.
This is what we see when we look up at Rainier, the beauty, the horror, the awe the unbelievability of size that confirms our own consequence on this earth. We look at the mountain, like god and can imagine nothing larger. Its incompressible life-span reminds us of the fleeting mortality of our own bones. It looms over our lives on clear days and and stay present but hidden through the clouds of winter. Like god it remains everywhere forever.
The simplicity of winter has a deep moral. The return of Nature, after such a career of splendor and prodigality, to habits so simple and austere, is not lost either upon the head or the heart. It is the philosopher coming back from the banquet and the wine to a cup of water and a crust of bread.
Because the birdsong might be pretty, But it's not for you they sing, And if you think my winter is too cold, You don't deserve my spring.
In summer he was a different person, sprightly and alert, and people took him for a man a decade younger than his years; but in winter he sank as the skies darkened, and by December he was always tired. When he went to bed, he drowned in sleep; when he was wakened from it, dragged from the depths , he was somehow always unrefreshed.
I love the scent of winter. I love the scent of winter enough to suffer the cold for it.
The winter passed as slowly and peacefully as a boa constrictor digesting a valium addict.
You think of outside your room, of the streets of the town, the lonely little squares over by the station, of those winter Saturdays all alike.
Donna Lynn Hope
It was evenings like that when beneath dim light and relaxing in a sultry bath that she missed him the most. A flicker of candlelight, wind breathing snow against the window and the soothing scent of creme caramel – all were a comfort to her as she closed her eyes, summoned memories and many a tender thought. She didn't feel deserving of the devotion bestowed upon her, but she had finally learned to accept its wondrous gift, knowing that love was the source of existence and its only end.
I spring train in the winter, around early December...
John Greenleaf Whittier
Beneath the winter's snow lie germs of summer flowers.
Spring's an expansive time: yet I don't trust March with its peck of dust, Nor April with its rainbow-crowned brief showers, Nor even May, whose flowers One frost may wither thro' the sunless hours.
Knitwear can play a vital part in layering. The simplicity of a lightweight cardigan makes it one of the best ways to layer outfits. I love granddad cardis for winter, worn over a vintage lace shirt, waistcoat and full skirt with slouchy boots.
John J. Geddes
You are my winter suddenness—a glass of red wine spilt across a white tablecloth
Fall colors are funny. They’re so bright and intense and beautiful. It’s like nature is trying to fill you up with color, to saturate you so you can stockpile it before winter turns everything muted and dreary.
A smile is the same as sunshine; it banishes winter from the human countenance.
I wanted to turn everything off, too. Just press a button - click - and shut myself down. Turn off my heart, turn off my mind, turn off my body - just lie there, senseless, like a dormant tree in winter, waiting for the spring to return.
NEW HAIKU One breathy vowel mists the glass warming window panes crystalled with snow Robin Glasser
Arthur Conan Doyle
Dark nights are unpleasant," "Yes, for strangers to travel," "The clouds are heavy." "Yes, a storm is approaching.
I wish I could remember the first day, First hour, first moment of your meeting me; If bright or dim the season it might be; Summer or winter for aught I can say. So, unrecorded did it slip away, So blind was i to see and to forsee, So dull to mark the budding of my tree That would not blossom, yet, for many a May.
Often in winter the end of the day is like the final metaphor in a poem celebrating death: there is no way out.
There is a wilder solitude in winter When every sense is pricked alive and keen.
After winter comes the summer. After night comes the dawn. And after every storm, there comes clear, open skies.
T. S. Eliot
The winter evening settles down With smell of steaks in passageways.
You walk for days among trees and among stones. Rarely does the eye light on a thing, and then only when it has recognized that thing as the sign of another thing: a print in the sand indicates the tiger's passage; a marsh announces a vein of water; the hibiscus flower, the end of winter. All the rest is silent and interchangeable; trees and stones are only what they are.
I'm looking for the binding energy of a look a crop of reflections to be reaped in a winter of thorn when icebergs of illusion will melt to be served at high tea and the spaces between the poles pinned down
The harshest winter finds an invincible summer in us.
Now that he was teaching Quentin could see why the faculty didn't bother trying to improve the climate. It kept people amazingly focused. … You could actually watch as the determination to seize the moment and live life to the fullest ebbed right out of them, and they resigned themselves to lonely, silent, indoor study instead.
Isn't it true that a pleasant house makes winter more poetic, and doesn't winter add to the poetry of a house?
In the spring and summer I watched my plants flower, but it was, perhaps, in winter that I loved them best, when their skeletons were exposed. Then I felt they had more to say to me, were not simply dressing themselves for the crowds. Stripped of their leaves, their identities showed forth stark, essential.
Maybe eventually winter will finish our job for us and end the world in ice instead of blood.
You think I’m perfect?” He didn’t look away. Didn’t look bashful or even nervous. Just stared at her, like she’d asked him if Luna orbited the Earth. Then he leaned over and brushed a kiss against her forehead. “Just sort of,” he said. “You know. On a good day.
I grew up in Los Angeles, and I've made movies all over the world... I've been in New York, Norway, Chicago, Pittsburgh, Philadelphia, London - I've been in all these cities, shooting away in the winter, thinking, 'People who choose to live here are insane.
Hot cocoa and cold toes remind me of Christmas.
I get up very early in the morning. I enjoy the quietness, the stillness, the rawness in the winter and fall. It's a special time.
Winter always turns into Spring. Never, from ancient times on, has anyone heard or seen of winter turning back to autumn.
John Crowe Ransom
Two evils, monstrous either one apart, Possessed me, and were long and loath at going: A cry of Absence, Absence, in the heart, And in the wood the furious winter blowing.
Some of the events in the Olympics don't make sense to me. I don't understand the connection to any reality... Like in the Winter Olympics they have that biathlon that combines cross-country skiing with shooting a gun. How many alpine snipers are into this? Ski, shoot a gun... ski, bang, bang, bang... It's like combining swimming and strangling a guy. Why don't we have that? That makes absolutely as much sense to me. Just put people in the pool at the end of each lane for the swimmers.
Winter collapsed on us that year. It knelt, exhausted, and stayed.
I toured Ontario in the winter of '48, in a touring company of The Drunkard, in which I played the bartender.
Henry David Thoreau
There must be some nerve and heroism in our love, as of a winter morning.