Best 782 quotes in «snow quotes» category

I have total respect for anyone who discovers a band like Snow Patrol. I would be hopeless at signing a rock band, or anything alternative, cause I don't know what that audience are into and I don't particularly like that kind of music.

I hear the sounds of melting snow outside my window every night and with the first faint scent of spring, I remember life exists

I hope the snow covers everything so all the footsteps are silenced, and the whole city can be at peace.

I hope the day will come when a wasp-waist and a pair of thin shoulders will not be esteemed beauty: we have had our ideas ruined by trash novels, praising 'fragile forms' and 'delicate beauty,' 'dainty waists,' 'snow-drop faces,' and a lot of other nonsense.

I know a mount, the gracious Sun perceives First when he visits, last, too, when he leaves The world; and, vainly favored, it repays The day-long glory of his steadfast gaze By no change of its large calm front of snow.

I know how people are, with their habits of mind. Most will sail through from cradle to grave with a conscience clean as snow...I know people. Most have no earthly notion of the price of a snow-white conscience.

I know my family and I would always go up to the mountains just for fun. We always skied. Then, all of a sudden, my brother started snow boarding. Older brother thing, I had to do what he was doing. So I started snow boarding.

I know people. Most have no earthly notion of the price of a snow-white conscience.

I know there will be spring, as surely as the birds know it when they see above the snow two tiny, quivering green leaves. Spring cannot fail us.

I know what it's like to live in a cold climate. I grew up in the Snow Belt, north of Toronto in Canada, and I did years and years of running outside.

I left the jutra to chop wood. I began my walk through the snow, five kilometers to the tree line. That's when I saw it. A tiny silver of gold appeared between shades of gray on the horizon. I stared at the amber band of sunlight, smiling. The sun had returned. I closed my eyes. I felt Andrius moving close. "I'll see you," he said. "Yes, I will see you," I whispered "I will." I reached into my pocket and squeezed the stone.

I'll pay them right after it snows in Panama. Let Eleta pay them if he feels so strongly about it.

I like your glasses,” he said. “I like your Simon Snow T-shirts. I like that you don’t smile at everyone, because then, when you smile at me.… Cather.

I like the cold weather. It means you get work done.

I look back on tremendous efforts & exhaustion & dismal looking out of a tent door on to a dismal world of snow and vanishing hopes - & yet, & yet, & yet there have been a good many things to see the other side.

I love Switzerland. It's so clean and cool. We don't get much snow where I live so I get real excited in Lausanne and Geneva. I'd like to buy a house there when I'm older and settle down. It's all so cute that it looks like a movie set.

I'm still shocked every time I see snow. The first bit of snow each year... I stay up and I watch it. And then I go out and pick it up and eat it and move around in it.

I love touring in the United States. It's dramatically different wherever you go. North to south you're going from snow to palm trees.

I mean, even in these snow pants,check out my ass.

I'm Min's fairy godmother, Charm Boy,' Liza said, frowning down at him. 'And if you don't give her a happily ever after, I'm going to come back and beat you to death with a snow globe.' What happened to "bibbity bobbity boo"?' Cal asked Min. That was Disney, honey,' Min said. 'It wasn't a documentary.

I'm still dominant and that's what matters, ... But rain, snow, sleet, it doesn't matter. I'm going to go out and try and win a gold medal.

I'm telling you, the gorgeous of the world can actually look pretty intimidating when they scowl. Imagine a snow-white swan with a scary tattoo holding a chain saw. There's just no way to really prepare for that.

I love the sound of snow... You can hear it even if you are only standing on a balcony. [The sound] is only minimal, not even a real noise: a breath, a trifle of a sound. You have the same thing in music: if in the score there is a pianissimo marked that ends in nothing. Up thee you can feel this 'nothing'. With an orchestra it is very difficult to achieve it. The Berlin Philharmonic manage it sometimes.

I'm strong and I can do things that scare me. I can drive in the snow even though it terrifies me. I'm doing it all alone, I don't have a boyfriend, it was like, "I can do this.

I'm working on a snow scene right now, and it's summer. It's hot, and I will get chilly. I'll have to turn on the heat. My wife walks in, and it's 95 degrees in the studio. I know it's nutty, but it's a projection you have where you step into the painting.

In beauty faults conspicuous grow; The smallest speck is seen on snow.

In four days, I experienced five seasons. It was thirty, it was sixty, it was ninety, then it was twelve! And on the last day, there was thunder, lightning, and snow - together! And I hadn't done drugs.

I never accepted why there should be some invisible, wavy cutoff line separating Great Fiction from phosphorescent beauties and dollhouse miniatures, novels that contain a whole world in a snow globe.

In New York, they understood that my country was not a country, but winter. And that my road was not really a road, but snow.

In the southern hemisphere, covering the Christmas tree with fake snow even though winter has nothing to do with the birth of Christ.

In the snow outside my window I see a small green frog, one eye blinking and the other wide open, unmoving, looking at me. I know this is God.

In tennis the addict moves about a hard rectangle and seeks to ambush a fuzzy ball with a modified snow-shoe.

In the woods where snow is thick, bars of sunlight lay like pale fire.

In the wintertime, in the snow country, citrus fruit was so rare, and if you got one, it was better than ambrosia.

I played a heap of snow in a school play. I was under a sheet, and crawled out when spring came. I often say I'll never reach the same artistic level again.

In what bold relief stand out the lives of all walkers of the snow! The snow is a great tell-tale, and blabs as effectually as it obliterates. I go into the woods, and know all that has happened. I cross the fields, and if only a mouse has visited his neighbor, the fact is chronicled.

Isao had never felt that he might want to be a woman. He had never wished for anything else but to be a man, live in a manly way, die a manly death. To be thus a man was to give constant proof of one's manliness-to be more a man today than yesterday, more a man tomorrow than today. To be a man was to forge ever upward toward the peak of manhood, there to die amid the white snows of that peak.

I proceeded to take that mitten full of the deadly yellow snow crystals and rub it all into his beady little eyes with a vigorous circular motion.

I read about a guy in Michigan this winter who was cruising along on his snow mobile. "Whoo hoo!" Didn't see a barbed wire fence. FOOM - cut his head right off. And I'll be honest with you, my first thought was... That's how I want to go. Having the time of your life, "whoo hoo!" FOOM. I want the last thought in my head to be, 'Hey, check out that headless snow mobile driver. He's got a jacket just like mine.'

I remember the snow in Canada and the lovely weather in New Zealand. And I slightly remember going to school there.

I seemed to vow to myself that some day I would go to the region of ice and snow and go on and on till I came to one of the poles of the earth, the end of the axis upon which this great round ball turns.

I shake my head, watching snow tumble and swirl from an all-white sky. The world seems so clean if you only look up

I see my way as birds their trackless way. I shall arrive,- what time, what circuit first, I ask not; but unless God send his hail Or blinding fire-balls, sleet or stifling snow, In some time, his good time, I shall arrive: He guides me and the bird. In his good time.

I sometimes felt as if these marks on my body were a kind of code, which blossomed, then faded, like invisible ink held to a candle. But if they were a code, who held the key to it? I was sand, I was snow — written on, rewritten, smoothed over.

I shoved him off the snowmobile. He landed on his back in the snow. "Love is a brat, you think? No, love id fine. You are the brat, you spoiled, rotten brat!

I think Michigan keeps you sane and on an even keel through the ups and downs. In Michigan, I do fireworks, shovel snow and live life.

Is there some kind of rule for when Sam should be a boy and when he's a Wolf?" "A Wolf lifts his leg and yellows up the snow. A boy has to use the toilet." "And that will work?" "Only if he needs to pee.

It felt as though the whole globe was dressed in snow. Like it has pulled it on, the way you pull on a sweater. Next to the train line, footprints were sunken to their shins. Trees wore blankets of ice. As you may expect, someone has died.

I think it creates so many more opportunities and pitfalls in that you are treading on fresh snow, so you're in a new place.

I spent a lot of my youth working outside in the elements, and I kind of revel in defeating tough weather.