Best 782 quotes in «snow quotes» category

It’d been a long time since they’d been together, but as close as they were physically, they’d never been so far apart in every other way.

It has started to snow. We all ran out when it began, and played at catching flakes as we used to when we were children. But it was cold, and our boots and gloves and cloaks were soon wet - you feel these things more when you are grown-up.

It had started snowing, a thick wet layer of slush that won't stick. There are no cars on the road, nothing but big white flakes falling onto our faces, erasing the buildings around us, and the low swish of our feet on the road as we try to keep our footing, a soft wheeze humming from the bottom of my lungs from too much smoking. In the middle of Nation Road, Mazzie turns to me without any warning. She grabs my arm and we both fall down, and then we're sitting there in the middle of the bare road, and for a few seconds we just sit there, quite, listening to the eerie silent noise of snow falling against land. Snow covers Mazzie's eyelashes, making her look like a tiny ice princess– the closest she will ever come to wearing makeup. "You look pretty," I say. "Shut up.

I think of the snow, falling, drifting upward. Of extending the ephemeral. Spaces follow spaces, burgeoning, and the air smells so sweet.

I thought, how magical, the first glimspe of snow. By March I would be sick of it, but here in this November instant those tiny flakes swirled with the unspeakable purity of a divine gift.

It is astounding to find that the belly of every black and evil thing is white as snow. And it is saddening to discover how the concealed parts of angels are leprous.

It is good to be the pitter-patter of snow, no? To be an unexpected moment in time.

It is snowing. In the English language we do not know anything about the 'it' that is snowing. It might be God. Maybe not. Anyway. It. Is. Snowing.

It’s feels like zero out there!” Lola stamped her knee-high boots on the doormat, leaving bits of frozen slush to settle into its bristly fibers. “With the wind chill, yeah.” Lola flipped the fur-lined hood of her high-end winter coat. “I ignore that wind chill stuff. It’s either freezing or it isn’t.

It's wrong, what you say, and I beg you, if you're a good man, to forget what you've said, as I forget it," she said at last. "Not one word, not one gesture of yours shall I, could I, ever forget...

It’s January and I’m kicking snow off the ground. I just threw out the flower you made me promise to water, handle with care, because I was too careless, you said. Careless with things and people, around me and behind and I remember being still for just a second or two, thinking that it’s so much easier to leave and start anew, than take care of what’s already here.

It’s ok,” he murmured. “I’ve got you.

It was Christmas Eve. Big snowflakes fluttered slowly through the air like white feathers and made all of the Heavenly Valley smooth and white and quiet and beautiful. Tall fir trees stood up to their knees in snow and their outstretched hands were heaped with it. Those that were bare of leaves wore soft white fur on their scrawny, reaching arms and all the stumps and low bushes had been turned into fat white cupcakes.

itt was snowing as if you could hear wolves howling

It was gentler here, softer, its seethe the quietest of whispers, as if, in deference to a drawing room, it had quite deliberately put on its 'manners'; it kept itself out of sight, obliterated itself, but distinctly with an air of saying, 'Ah, but just wait! Wait till we are alone together! Then I will begin to tell you something new! Something white! something cold! something sleepy! something of cease, and peace, and the long bright curve of space! Tell them to go away. Banish them. Refuse to speak. Leave them, go upstairs to your room, turn out the light and get into bed - I will go with you, I will be waiting for you, I will tell you a better story than Little Kay of the Skates, or The Snow Ghost - I will surround your bed, I will close the windows, pile a deep drift against the door, so that none will ever again be able to enter. Speak to them!...' It seemed as if the little hissing voice came from a slow white spiral of falling flakes in the corner by the front window - but he could not be sure. ("Silent Snow, Secret Snow")

It was April in Minneapolis and snowing, the flakes coming down in thick swirls enchanting the city

It was as if he were in a place that the whole world had forgotten; as if it were snowing at the end of the world.

It was snowing when I got off the bus at Flax Hill. Not quite regular snowfall, not exactly a blizzard. This is how it was: The snow came down heavily, settled for about a minute, then the wind moved it - more rolled it, really - onto another target. One minute you were covered in snow, then it sped off sideways, as if a brisk, invisible giant had taken pity and brushed you down.

It was the kind of snow that brought children running out their doors, made them turn their faces skyward, and spin in circles with their arms outstretched.

It was so pure, the snow, the purest of all powders, I thought, so pure it must be from elsewhere, from another planet.

It was the kind of snow that didn't amount to anything on the ground. It would just dust the dead grass. The technical term for that level, he decided, was an "annoyance" of snow.

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 used to be fine in my loneliness but something or someone snapped me out of it and showed me company. What it’s like to feel at home, and so the going on by myself part wasn’t as easy anymore. Seasons happened and things got colder and harder and suddenly I found myself smoking circles in the air by myself in the snow and I was not okay.

I've always felt lucky to live someplace where snow is rare, you know? It's rareness that makes it so speacial.

I've been thinking about this all day," he said between kisses. "All. Day." Who was she kidding? She'd been harboring this fantasy for weeks. And then in a move that was becoming her 'thing', Alesha leaned back and pulled her sweater over her head and gave Reece a sexy smile. "Was this part of what you were thinking?" His hands came up and cupped her breasts, his breath ragged, but his eyes were on hers. "This is better.

I will love you like the desert burns along the sun when they are together, and when you will be gone, just like every one else, I will cry for you like the snow that melts at the first hint of summer... and hoping that you'll be back I will miss you like the clouds lose themselves when it rains...

I want to visit the snow in Antarctica before global warming turns it into a tropical paradise.

I was being resisted by millions of tiny crystals, I knew, but the strength of their chemical bonds was enormous. If all of us could be like snow, I thought, how happy we should be.

I was driving down alone from the summit of Mauna Kea to Hale Pohaku. Out of the dark appeared a beautiful Hawaiian princess on a horse in the middle of the road. I hit the brakes hard as I thought I was going to hit her. We spent some time looking at each other and I was wondering why she was there. I looked away, looked back and she was gone. Many years later I discovered that her name was Poli’ahu, the snow goddess of Mauna Kea, and I now understand why she contacted me.

Love is a snowflake for no two are ever the same.

Look up . . . From bleakening hills Blows down the light, first breath Of wintry wind . . . look up, and scent The snow!

Lyra had been born in the cold, and in the stark of winter, she thrived.

Mandy was thinking back to when she was five years old, when she, her parents and Jud went outside before Christmas and had a snowball fight with the gray snow of Sydney Mines. “This is a wicked blast,” Jud would say, and Mandy would snap photos with a 35mm disposable film camera, photos she wished very much she could step into sometimes.

Mais tout restait dissous dans une délicatesse et une pâleur spectrales, exempt de toute ligne que l'œil aurait pu suivre avec certitude ; les contours des cimes se perdaient, s'embrumaient, s'en allaient en fumée.

Merry Christmas. His would be without the Merry for sure.

Maturity is when you no longer get the urge to make snow angels in mud season

My goal is to read as much as possible books, my dream is to meet the snow person, the storm person and to make something together. I will be the rain, Snowy will be the snow, Stormy will be the storm - it's not so complicated as far I see.

My breath came out in a fog and rose into the milky sky. Snow fell on my eyelashes, and all of Brooklyn turned white, a world in a globe. Every snowflake that I caught was a miracle unlike any other.

My grandpa used to say, ‘the heart knows what it wants even when the head doesn’t.

NEW HAIKU One breathy vowel mists the glass warming window panes crystalled with snow Robin Glasser

Never Forget Who You Are Beacause Its Like Forgetingg Water Is Wet,The Sun Is Bright,Snow Is Cold.Its Rudunent.

Negative people will always be there to stain your pure image with their dirty tongues and brushes, but you'll always remain as white as snow, no matter how high the quality of paint they use.

NIGHT SNOW I was surprised my quilt and pillow were cold, I see that now the window's bright again. Deep in the night, I know the snow is thick, I sometimes hear the sound as bamboo snaps.

On a cold winter day even the snow needs the touch of the sun!

Now everyone is prouder and poorer

„Oglinda și nălucile din ea se mișcau una-ntr-alta, ca într-un film. Personajele nu aveau legătură cu decorul. Purtau în ele o transparență fugară, într-un peisaj care era doar o întunecare încețoșată de seară. Ambele, topite și amestecate, schițau o lume părelnică de umbre. Atunci luci în ochiul fetei o luminiță venită de departe, din câmpie, iar Shimamura se înfioră de atâta frumusețe […] se pomeni gândind în sinea lui că perindarea priveliștilor din oglindă și fluviul timpului care curgea pe lângă el erau lucruri foarte asemănătoare”.

No, I'm from the South, remember? We get snow when we've done something to upset God, which we don't do very often.

Not a day passes when the eagle of dark depression doesn't take flight in my soul, said Sunay, infusing his words with mysterious pride. But I cannot catch myself. So hold yourself in. All's well that ends well.

Outside the window there was snow falling, falling like movie snow, all the dreamy fluffy bits drifting around in the light of a single streetlamp . . . I watched the snow slow down, thin out. Then it was two or three pieces at a time, falling reversibly, wavering up and down and up again like they didn't know where to go.

On gray days, when it's snowing or raining, I think you should be able to call up a judge and take an oath that you'll just read a good book all day, and he'd allow you to stay home.