Best 828 quotes in «cold quotes» category

You can't be a strong or cool woman and be represented except in a harsh way, looking mean and cold and hard. It's like reverse sexism.

You can throw a bucket of cold water on Russians, and we can take it. But one shouldn't humiliate us!

You can't not be happy around penguins. You're unfortunately happy and cold but the happiness makes up for the coldness.

You can't uninvent things, you can only make them obsolete... Ronald Reagan understood that the surest method of neutralising any weapon is to make it obsolete.

You have to have a somewhat cold heart to be a writer.

You know how you always expect someone to think the same as you and then your like, really shocked when they don't? Like when it's a cold day and you turn to the person next to you and say, 'Its so cold, aren't you cold?' and then they say 'no.' It's kinda like, 'what, are you a communist?'

You know I love you more when you're cold and heartless.

You know, once something freezes, it's solid. That's the key to the arctic - they didn't fear the cold, they made use of it.

You'll catch your death of cold. Clouseau: Yes, yes I probably will but . . . its all part of life's rich pageantry, you kneau.

You need to either create a slurry in a cold liquid, which also works with cornstarch, or you've got to do your gravy in a very wide pan and kind of scatter the flour over the top and then very quickly whisk it in.

You’re selfish and you’re cold, and I’m tired of getting frostbite when I touch you. (Acheron)

You're in there with me. Personally.

A chill swept through the air, the sort of graveyard kiss promising bad news to follow.

Your half-caff double vanilla latte is getting cold over here, Francis.

Your hand is cold, mine burns like fire. How blind you are, Nastenka!

A forest fire was making its way along the tinderbox ridges above them, flaring and shimmering against the overcast like the northern lights. Cold as it was he stood there a long time. The color of it moved something in him long forgotten. Make a list. Recite a litany. Remember.

A family is a unit composed not only of children but of men, women, an occasional animal, and the common cold.

Alas! he is cold, he cannot answer me.

After the fire died down, what remained were two charred hearts, that once beat as one.

(...) a man encased in ice, his eyes hard and his voice like a frosty exhale.

Alphabet soup is my magic eight ball. Served hot or cold, words are delicious.

And instead of dying Immediately after they shot him, he would go on to survive several days solely because of the cold that January. Maybe that's why we are drawn to those who posses the coldest of hearts ... In effort to survive.

And when the earth began to rumble and quake, as fear and frantic set in, he ran back inside the house past his wife and children, gathering all the valuables and things he thought of importance, and ran back to his car packing away. After making two trips in and out, he waited in the car for his family to come out, in fear they darted through the darkness and pelting cold rain. When everything calmed down, and the house was intact and safe, he returned putting everything back in its place, had the kids go to bed, told his wife he loves her and turned off the light.

An imaginary friend once asked me why Americans can't stand Russia. The answer was cold, deadly, silent, and, well expected. It’s because in Soviet Russia nothing happens anymore, because it doesn’t exist anymore. And Americans are all about happenings. If there isn’t one – they don’t go where it isn’t, because there isn’t anything to happen to them there.

But every tomorrow has led to today— to us being alone, hungry, and cold on an unknown island somewhere in the South Pacific.

Anyone who's ever gone from warm and bright to cold and dark knows how I felt.

A warm dead photograph is much livelier than a living cold reality!

Between cold war and hot peace, our love got sterilized to death.

But I felt that it was my heart which was broken. Something had broken in me to make me so cold and so perfectly still and far away.

Are you cold? No, Brainiac; I’m on flipping Vibrate Mode.

By March, the worst of the winter would be over. The snow would thaw, the rivers begin to run and the world would wake into itself again. Not that year. Winter hung in there, like an invalid refusing to die. Day after grey day the ice stayed hard; the world remained unfriendly and cold.

By coming down elbow first, I'd made a large enough crack in the ice to sink through. The water was so cold that it stopped time.

Dream of the Tundra Swan Dusk fell and the cold came creeping, cam prickling into our hearts. As we tucked beaks into feathers and settled for sleep, our wings knew. That night, we dreamed the journey: ice-blue sky and the yodel of flight, the sun's pale wafer, the crisp drink of clouds. We dreamed ourselves so far aloft that the earth curved beneath us and nothing sang but a whistling vee of light. When we woke, we were covered with snow. We rose in a billow of white.

Cold has its own taste. It tastes of a bitten tongue. It coils around you, a living thing, a beast that means to kill you, not with wrath, not with tooth nor claw, but with the mercy of surrender, with the kindness of letting you go gentle into the long night after such a burden of pain and misery.

Cold is hot, if you love it; hot is cold, if you hate it!

Damp veils of mist swirled around them. They were dreadfully cold (Moomintroll thought longingly of his woolly trousers) and surrounded completely by an awful floating emptiness. "I always thought clouds were soft and woolly and nice to be in," said Sniff, sneezing. "Ugh! I'm beginning to be sorry I ever came on this expedition.

Deep silence fell about the little camp, planted there so audaciously in the jaws of the wilderness. The lake gleamed like a sheet of black glass beneath the stars. The cold air pricked. In the draughts of night that poured their silent tide from the depths of the forest, with messages from distant ridges and from lakes just beginning to freeze, there lay already the faint, bleak odors of coming winter. ("The Wendigo")

Cold is cold.

Dark spruce frowned on either side of the frozen waterway.

Death is a really cold weather which can’t be predicted. ("La mort est un temps vraiment froid - Qu'aucune météo ne prévoit)

December is a bewitching month. The grey of cold teases to explode into something worthwhile, into a dream of cold, a starlight shower you can taste, a cold that does not chill. I've lost my memory of my first snow-- did I gasp at a field of white? Or scream at the freeze untill my cheeks reddened? The crunch underfoot is satisfying and the thrill of virgin snow near leaves.

Don't complain it's too cold now if you also intend to whine about how hot it is when summer comes. It's just hypocritical.

Don’t pack out ______________ To some people, you make life bright When you decide to dim your light Their lives will be full of darkness Do shine your light in kindness To some people, you bring out a joy With their emotions, never ever toy With your smiles, grease them with oil And make them glad when their lives boil To other people, you are the warmth That kills coldness and brings strength Don’t do it; don’t pack out Else, they will have blackout You’re on earth to do two things here Wake up and do them now; this year First, dare to grow and become better Second, help others to also become greater Never in any of the four seasons Should you neglect your gifts for any reasons The world needs you to make it a better place Don’t pack out; run your race

Don't worry about negative temperatures because minus times minus equals plus. If you are not very good at Maths, then put some rum in the tea.

Echo shifts, and her bottom presses into me. I take advantage and draw her closer. Her tank rides up, and I rest my palm against the heat of her stomach. I lived too long in cold isolation before Echo stumbled into my life, bringing her warmth and love.

Everyone should be very grateful radioactivity exists at all. It can kill you, yes, but without it you wouldn't have been born in the first place. On Earth, deep under your feet, our planet happens to contain many atoms that do decay, all the time. Less so now than in the past, but still, Earth's mantle is radioactive. When atoms decay there, the particles they emit bump into their neighbours and generate heat, the very heat that contributes to keeping our planet warm. Without radioactivity, there would be no seismic or volcanic activity. The surface of the Earth would have been dead cold billions of yeras ago. Life as we know it would probably not exist at all.

End spør du om Himmel og Veirligheds Art, Da viid, at de os, een fortræden Fræmfart Med vreed Elementer tilføyer; U-lidelig Frysen og stormende Slud, At hvo som vil stænge sig Vinteren ud, Hand see sig om forede Trøyer.

Flint", said Tanis gravely."I know you'll be terribly disappointed. But you've only got a cold. You're not dying.

First, the wind would rumble in the distance like an approaching river, then he would see grass bend, pressed by a great invisible hand. The dull rumble would rise in pitch to a swishing, lashing exultation, causing stalks to lie flat against the ground while the tougher branches of shrubs held themselves up and shrieked their defiance in the gusts. Then the first drops, cold and heavy, would plummet from the sky and burst on the ground.

For showing me what I could have been if I hadn't turned cold and dark and hollow.