Best 1128 quotes in «winter quotes» category

Honest Winter, snow-clad, and with the frosted beard, I can welcome not uncordially; But that long deferment of the calendar's promise, that weeping gloom of March and April, that bitter blast outraging the honour of May how often has it robbed me of heart and hope?

Hot cocoa and cold toes remind me of Christmas.

Hot coffee and cold winter mornings are two of the best soul mates who ever did find each other.

How could it be winter without snow?I appreciated every season, but winter was my favorite.I loved when it was time to pull out my thick sweaters.I loved the smell of a wood fire.I loved skiing and snow boarding and sledding, when i could find the time-although time was in a short supply when school was in session.I even enjoyed the cold, wintry weather, it was great for snuggling.

How I wish to fly with the geese away from dreary November days, the "freeze-up," and cruel winter. Away from loneliness, isolation, and anxiety bred by blizzards. Most every local person I've talked to grudgingly admits to an autumn apprehension. It is part and parcel of an Adirondacker's psychological makeup. The geese contaminate us with this strange depression on their southbound flight and cure us with their northbound. In between, we try to tolerate winter, each in his or her own way.

How mighty you are as death comes upon you and your color fades. Yet from life and lush to bold array, screaming into the night.

I am fine with coffee in the coldest night; I don't need wine to make the dark more romantic.

I am happy to experience beauty of each season; spring time, summer, autumn and winter.

I am in love, and the river is beginning to ice over. I’d better go drown myself before I freeze to death.

I am in no mood to fulminate on paper--I wish the two of us were in a room together talking of what matters most, the air thick with affinity. In January a man crawls into a cave of hopelessness; he hallucinates sympathies catching fire. Letters are glaciers, null frigates, trapping us where we are in the moment, unable to carry us on toward truth.

I am not warm. That is why my sister chose the name Winter for me.

I despise the wintertime. I never did see what was the use in there even bein one.

Ich schaue zu meinem Fenster hinaus, vor dem dicke Schneeflocken wirbeln wie aus dem Bilderbuch. Ich stelle mir vor, eine der ¬Flocken mit der Zunge aufzufangen, wie ich es als Kind getan hatte – auf dass sie darauf ¬zerschmelze. Bald ist alles nur noch weiss eingepackt und verhüllt. Der Schnee dämpft den Lärm, macht die Welt wohliger und überdeckt mit seiner Weissheit alles Bangen. Die Formen werden weicher und das Land bekommt etwas Verwunschenes. Die Umgebung verwandelt sich in eine Traumlandschaft voller skurriler Formen, die Freundlichkeit unter Wildfremden erzeugt. Hier ein Lächeln, da ein gutes Wort und die Welt wie verzaubert.

I can be counted among the thirty million who voluntarily live in a country with annual plagues. A black death called winter that descends upon us all.

Ice lies on water as far as the eye can see: scattered rhinestones, spiral arms of ice, ice walls and icebergs, and bits of ice that have splintered off larger pieces whose translucent edges are shaped like miniature whales.

I could feel the bite of the autumn air, warning us all of the harsh winter that was on its way.

I did not dread the dark winter as people do when they have lost their youth and live alone in some great city.

I do an awful lot of thinking and dreaming about things in the past and the future - the timelessness of the rocks and the hills - all the people who have existed there. I prefer winter and fall, when you feel the bone structure of the landscape - the loneliness of it, the dead feeling of winter. Something waits beneath it, the whole story doesn't show.

I'd love to wake up to complete silence, white sheets, and the smell of crisp air and roses.

I don't hate you. I am merely annoyed at your existence." -Levana, Winter

Idris had been green and gold and russet in the autumn, when Clary had first been there. It had a stark grandeur in the winter: the mountains rose in the distance, capped white with snow, and the trees along the side of the road that led back to Alicante from the lake were stripped bare, their leafless branches making lace-like patterns against the bright sky. Sometimes Jace would slow the horse to point out the manor houses of the richer Shadowhunter families, hidden from the road when the trees were full but revealed now. She felt his shoulders tense as they passed one that nearly melded with the forest around it: it had clearly been burned and rebuilt. Some of the stones still bore the black marks of smoke and fire. “The Blackthorn manor,” he said. “Which means that around this bend in the road is …” He paused as Wayfarer summited a small hill, and reined him in so they could look down to where the road split in two. One direction led back toward Alicante — Clary could see the demon towers in the distance — while the other curled down toward a large building of mellow golden stone, surrounded by a low wall. “ … the Herondale manor,” Jace finished. The wind picked up; icy, it ruffled Jace’s hair. Clary had her hood up, but he was bare-headed and bare-handed, having said he hated wearing gloves when horseback riding. He liked to feel the reins in his hands. “Did you want to go and look at it?” she asked. His breath came out in a white cloud. “I’m not sure.

I eventually came across what looked like tiny footprints in the snow

I fall asleep Call it deep while all is well be- Cause my life seems like a freestyle mean- While asleep on the couch I dream it's a written piece and now The symphony's sounding Shouting out to these feet whose leaps feel foul but quite loud But how I'm allowed to live my dreams My Chimeran team brings the Siberian breed Riding reality free 'til these tires they freeze In mires in dire need of wires, fire and heat but I love a dark, hard cold heart in the wintery breeze

If Springtime crawls out of the wild mouths of flowers, then surely, Winter crawls out of mine.

If hope is a feeling that can defeat fear, then at that time I walked uphill through a bed of snow, my tracks were of joyful determination.

If the Mob was after you, the last thing you felt was alive. If the Mob was after you, it was only a matter of time before you were as dead as a doorknob. But standing outside in the middle of winter, with the world in a coma, she felt alive.

If you like someone, you should have to make an effort.

If you allow coldness to engulf you before winter, season is helpless to help you.

If winter helps you curl up and more that makes it one of the best of the seasons.

If you can smile like a flower in the deep darkness of winter, spring is always there.

Iko held up a hand. "You need a system debug if you're suggesting that I would abandon you know.

I guess I was lucky I didn't drown, or smother in the thick, black, icy mud that the river left behind in its slow withdrawal back within its banks. I didn't feel lucky. When I regained consciousness, my head and ribs winning the battle with the rest of my body for sharp, almost unbearable pain, my first thought was Chrissy. Chrissy, pulled away from me by the merciless power of the water. Chrissy, lost somewhere, maybe injured, calling for me and I wasn't there for her. Chrissy, beautiful, wonderful Chrissy, quite probably lying in the mud, dead! My scream of anguish, of pain and loss, echoed through the empty Liverpool streets. There was no shame or embarrassment in that shout, that bellow of emotion. I had lost the woman I loved. Nothing I’d ever felt compared to the agony, the gut-wrenching loss of that moment. I cried. I sat there in the middle of a street I didn't recognise, not knowing how far the wave had carried me, and cried.

I hate winter. I’ve lived in Syracuse my whole life and I hate winter. It starts too early and ends too late. No one likes it.

I haven't used my glamour since I was twelve years old,” she whispered, gaze piercing as if it were very important to her that Scarlet understand this. “Not since I was old enough to control it. That's why the visions come to me. That's why I'm going mad.

I jumped for it and lit in a snowbank and what I'm goin to tell you you'll think peculiar but it's the god's truth. That was in nineteen and thirty one and if I live to be a hunnerd year old I dont think I'll ever see anything as pretty as that train on fire goin up that mountain and around the bend and them flames lightin up the snow and the trees and the night.

I knew by the signs it would be a hard winter. The hollies bore a heavy crop of berries and birds stripped them bare. Crows quarreled in reaped fields and owls cried in the mountains, mournful as widows. Fur and moss grew thicker than usual. Cold rains came, driven sideways through the trees by north winds, and snows followed.

I know that you are my guard, and you are my best friend. I know you would die for me. And I know that should that ever happen, I would die immediately after.

I lived in Ireland. This meant it was only summer for 24 hours and the rest of the time it’s freezing.

I'll be your blanket, baby. Wrap yourself up in me. Let me give you shelter, in the winter of this world.

I love the scent of winter. I love the scent of winter enough to suffer the cold for it.

I love you,” he whispered as he thrust again. And again. Each movement controlled. Each small movement devastating in its effect. “I love you.” She lost all concept of time. She lost her place and surroundings. She couldn’t remember who he was—who she was. She lost her mind.

I kill the living to make way for the dead. But we had hot chocolate, she and I. We tried to make our friendship last as long as we could. Then I was forced to let her go. I held her when she returned to the earth.

I'll be safe and happy when I'm no longer afraid of my own mind.

I love the arrival of a new season — each one bringing with it its own emotion: spring is full of hope; summer is freedom; autumn is a colourful release, and winter brings an enchanting peace. It's hard to pick which one I enjoy the most — each time the new one arrives, I remember its beauty and forget the previous one whose qualities have started to dim.

I love to close my eyes a moment and think of the land outside, white under the mingled snow and moonlight--the heaps of stones by the roadside white--snow in the furrows. Mon Dieu! How quiet and how patient!

I love winter. The bugs are dead, and the people are indoors.

"Snow was falling, so much like stars filling the dark trees that one could easily imagine its reason for being was nothing more than prettiness.

I'm going to make it a law that the correct way to address your sovereign is my giving a high five.' Kai's smiled brightened. 'That's genius. Me too.

I miss the snow. I miss looking at it, walking in it, tasting it. I used to love those days when it was so cold everyone else would be tucked away inside trying to stay warm. I would be the only one out walking, so I could look across the fields and see miles of snow without a single footprint in it. It would be completely silent -- no cars, no birds singing, no doors slamming. Just silence and snow. God, I miss snow. The stars, the moon, the wind, and blankets of pure, pristine snow.

...I'm just beginning to understand how kind you are.