Best 85 quotes in «frost quotes» category

The frost which kills the harvest of a year saves the harvest of a century, by destroying the weevil or the locust.

The first and last frosts are the worst.

The frost makes a flower, the dew makes a star.

There was something frantic in their blooming, as if they knew that frost was near and then the bitter cold. They'd lived through all the heat and noise and stench of summertime, and now each widely opened flower was like a triumphant cry, "We will, we will make seed before we die.

The people always know that some of the grain will be good, some of the crop will be saved, some will return and bear the strength of the kernel, that from the bloodiest year some survive to outfox the frost.

There is in youth a purity of character which, when once touched and defiled, can never be restored; a fringe more delicate than frost-work, and which, when torn and broken, can never be re-embroidered.

When everything that ticked has stopped, and space stares, all around, or grisly frosts, first autumn morns, repeal the beating ground.

Two Seasons, it is said, exist- The Summer of the Just, And this of Ours, diversified With Prospect, and with Frost- May not our Second with its First So infinite compare That We but recollect the one The other to prefer?

Victory comes late-- And is held low to freezing lips-- Too rapt with frost To take it

The seasons alter: hoary-headed frosts Fall in the fresh lap of the crimson rose.

The third day comes a frost, a killing frost.

Were I laid on Greenland's Coast, And in my Arms embrac'd my Lass; Warm amidst eternal Frost, Too soon the Half Year's Night would pass.

When friendships are real, they are not glass threads or frost-work , but the solidest thing we know.

With five to ten hundred pure-minded young women threading the streets of the village every evening unattended, vice must slink away, like frost before the rising sun.

When, in 1966, I progressed to The Frost Report, I was paid ten guineas a minute. I was guaranteed three minutes a week, so this was good money.

Why, what's the matter, That you have such a February face, So full of frost, of storm and cloudiness?

66/ 'Two roads diverge in a yellow wood,' I think. It didn't ultimately matter which one you took; that was the real point of Frost's poem. The roads were pretty much the same. That stuff about the one less traveled making all the difference was bullshit.

You give Frost a message from me. You tell him it's open season on all suckheads.

But frost, like the crystallized dreams of autumn, began to coat the clearing with its sugar glaze.

An early frost was in the air tonight. Wind whipped outside the cabin’s basement windows, the last tendrils of late summer disappearing as fall took root. The dismal turn of the weather was a match for Lou’s mood.

For winter was coming. The days were shorter, and frost crawled up the window panes at night. Soon the snow would come. Then the log house would be almost buried in snowdrifts, and the lake and the stream would freeze.

Despite the heart numbing frost, my soul is blooming like spring.

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.

De som älskade mest, de som var av kärlek besatta, det var dem som frosten tog.

Fire and Ice Some say the world will end in fire, Some say in ice. From what I’ve tasted of desire I hold with those who favor fire. But if it had to perish twice, I think I know enough of hate To say that for destruction ice Is also great And would suffice.

Frost’s face darkened. “What gives you the right to speak for Miss Hathaway and her family?” Cam saw no reason to be discreet. “I’m going to marry her.” Frost nearly dropped the iron bar. “Don’t be absurd. Amelia would never marry you.” “Why not?” “Good God,” Frost exclaimed incredulously, “how can you ask that? You’re not a gentleman of her class, and … hell and damnation, you’re not even a real Gypsy. You’re a mongrel.” “All the same, I’m going to marry her.” “I’ll see you in hell first!” Frost cried, taking a step toward him. “Either drop that bar,” Cam said quietly, “or I’ll dislocate your arm.” He sincerely hoped Frost would take a swing at him. To his disappointment, Frost set the bar on the ground.

Frost kills the flowers that bloom out of season...

In judging of that tempestuous wind called Euroclydon," says an old writer - of whose works I possess the only copy extant - "it maketh a marvelous difference, whether thou lookest out at it from a glass window where the frost is all on the outside, or whether thou observest it from that sashless window, where the frost is on both sides, and of which the wight Death is the only glazier."... Euroclydon, nevertheless, is a mighty pleasant zephyr to any one in-doors, with his feet on the hob quietly toasting for bed.

I am filled time and again with a heart-aching wonder when I think of the fire and frost of memories of the everlastingness of love the solace of family and the power of prayer.

It was a black and white day of frost, which crawled along the dark trees and outlined twig and branch. The air was misty, and distant objects assumed a mysterious importance. Slight sounds, too, suggested infinite activities to the mind. ("A Tribute Of Souls")

Some changes occur suddenly like a brilliant flash of lightning striking across a dark sky. These changes are stunning, exciting but can be quickly forgotten. Other changes happen slowly, gradually, like a flower blooming in early spring, each day unfurling its petals another fraction of an inch towards the warm, nurturing sun. These changes are as inevitable as nature running its course; they’re meant to be.

Oh, well, isn't that nice. You are a nice young girl. Be a good friend to her and set her straight. She has love bruises on her neck and didn't come home until this afternoon." Sweet Holy Jesus, why couldn't the ground just swallow me whole? Bones stifled a laugh and nodded solemnly. "Don't fret, Grannie. We're going to a Bible retreat to scare the devil out of her.

Syracuse was again ruled by Dionysuis II, the former young philosopher king was now an overbearing and unjust Tyrant.

And you read your emily dickinson, And I my robert frost. And we note our place with bookmarkers That measure what weve lost.

The unknown grayish mystifying forest was benumbed into frost-covered cold, and the tremendous pines towering above the dark marshy soil resembled a gathering of severe mute brothers from a forbidden ancient order worshiping forgotten gods no one had ever heard of outside of the world of secret occult visions.

unless you're the lead dog the view never changes... mercy out does justice every time: always find your way back home/

A lazy frost, a numbness of the mind.

Although its growth may seem to have been slow, it is to be remembered that it is not a shrub, or plant, to shoot up in the summerand wither in the frosts. The Red Cross is a part of us--it has come to stay--and like the sturdy oak, its spreading branches shall yet encompass and shelter the relief of the nation.

This book by Dr. Yasuda, while ostensibly about haiku, in reality penetrates deeply into the totality of this living spirit of Japan. It deals with those aspects which have produced and maintained haiku into the present day. The important key to understanding comes with the realization that in Japanese art one strives always for the absolute. Of the absolute there is no question of degree; it is either attained or lost. Most often, to be sure, it is not attained, but it is the constant striving toward and awareness of that high goal which gives strength and vitality to this living aesthetic spirit which has so impressed me in Japan. (Robert B. Hall, Foreword, p. x)

All these soft kinds [of stone] have the advantage that they can be easily worked as soon as they have been taken from the quarries. Under cover, they play their part well; but in open and exposed situations the frost and rime make them crumble, and they go to pieces. On the seacoast, too, the salt eats away and dissolves them, nor can they stand great heat either.

Blackberry winter, the time when the hoarforst lies on the blackberry blossoms; without this frost the berries will not set. It is the forerunner of a rich harvest.

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

Be very vigilant over thy child in the April of his understanding, lest the frost of May nip his blossoms. While he is a tender twig, straighten him; whilst he is a new vessel, season him; such as thou makest him, such commonly shall thou find him. Let his first lesson be obedience and his second shall be what thou wilt.

Blake has always been a favorite, the lyrics, not so much the prophetic books, but I suppose Yeats influenced me more as a young poet, and the American, Robert Frost.

Berlin is a skeleton which aches in the cold: it is my own skeleton aching. I feel in my bones the sharp ache of the frost in the girders of the overhead railway, in the iron-work of balconies, in bridges, tramlines, lamp-standards, latrines. The iron throbs and shrinks, the stone and the bricks ache dully, the plaster is numb.

Cold indeed, and labor lost: Then farewell heat, and welcome frost!

But the air's so appetizin'; and the landscape through the haze Of a crisp and sunny morning of the airly autumn days Is a pictur' that no painter has the colorin' to mock-When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock.

Ever a glutton, at another's cost, But in whose kitchen dwells perpetual frost.

Day and night, Seed-time and harvest, heat and hoary frost Shall hold their course, till fire purge all things new.

E'en Beauty mourns in her decaying bower, That Time upon her angel brow should set His crooked autograph, and mar the jet Of glossy locks. Lo! how her chaplet green, The hoar frost and the canker worm destroy. Decay's dull film obscures those matchless eyes.