886 Quotes About Winter

Cold baths are one of the best things about winter.

My lady, I did not think you could answer it, when I took you from your home without your leave, and set value only on your gift. But I am answered truly. You have given fair return for insult thrice over and set your worth: higher than my life and all my kingdom and all who live therein, and though you send my people to the fire, I can claim no debt to repay. It is justly done.

When the winter comes, fire becomes a king!

The mountain trees that grew between the pines were a brilliant blaze of fall colors, like fire against the emerald green of the pines, firs and pruces. And it was, as I'd told myself long ago, the year's last passionate love affair before it grew old and died from the frosty bite of winter.

That year, when the trees burned the fire of late summer into their leaves and the ground mist was a ghost of the river, long and wet and cold, the aunt looked from her windows to the walls around her and imagined another winter inside them. She began to see the world as a bird sees bars, and she scratched her arms beneath her sleeves.

The Farmer’s Almanac promised a cold winter. The coldest in decades. Andrew grinned, unaware of how hideously ugly it made him. Let the winter be record breaking. The year would be marked in infamy and not for the weather alone. He could imagine the headlines, mentioning it as the winter of death, as his spree was just beginning. It would put the town on the map.

mă speriipentru că petrecerea s-a terminatși eu am văzutclădirile de birouri goale hârtii de imprimantă cu tabele plutind în aerul albastru al unei ierni prea lungiultimele cadillacuri trecând bulevardele goale și crăpate ale bucureștilor ca o turmă de bizoni însetați

You can pull people to your own winter and freeze them up or you can take your sun to people’s own winter and warm them up! It is up to you to bring hell or heaven to people’s life!

Unable to sleep, or pray, I standby the window looking outat moonstruck trees a December stormhas bowed with ice.Maple and mountain ash bendunder its glassy weight,their cracked branches falling uponthe frozen snow.The trees themselves, as in winters past,will survive their burdening,broken thrive. And am I less to You,my God, than they?