Top Winter Snow Quotes

Browse top 92 famous quotes and sayings about Winter Snow by most favorite authors.

Favorite Winter Snow Quotes

1. "In your hands winteris a book with cloud pagesthat snow pearls of love."
Author: Aberjhani
2. "Even in winter an isolated patch of snow has a special quality."
Author: Andy Goldsworthy
3. "We all know that a winter scene, though it may be covered over one day, with even the trees dressed in shawls of snow, will be unrecognizable the following spring. Yet I had never imagined such a thing could occur within our very selves"
Author: Arthur Golden
4. "Leaning against my car after changing the oil,I hold my black hands out and stare into themas if they were the faces of my children lookingat the winter moon and thinking of the snowthat will erase everything before they wake. In the garage, my wife comes behind meand slides her hands beneath my soiled shirt.Pressing her face between my shoulder blades,she mumbles something, and soon we are laughing,wrestling like children among piles of old rags,towels that unravel endlessly, torn sheets,work shirts from twenty years ago when I stoodin the door of a machine shop, grease blackened,and Kansas lay before me blazing with new snow,a future of flat land, white skies, and sunlight.After making love, we lie on the abandonedmattress and stare at our pale winter bodiessprawling in the half-light. She touches her belly,the scar of our last child, and the black printsof my hand along her hips and thighs."
Author: B.H. Fairchild
5. "My friend, I am going to tell you the story of my life, as you wish; and if it were only the story of my life I think I would not tell it; for what is one man that he should make much of his winters, even when they bend him like a heavy snow?"
Author: Black Elk
6. "As she reached back for the buckle, her fingers met Mr. Meisner's. She jumped. "I can do this... Sir.""Ah." He brushed aside her fingers. "I see you've at least remembered the sir.""One always calls gentlemen that, just as you--"With only a rustle of cloth to warn her, his teeth met in the lobe of her ear, sending a spark into her middle. Like the melt of winter snow, she felt heat pool in her lower body. Her fingers curled against her collarbone where her hands still rested either side of her neck."I'm not a gentleman, Faith."
Author: Cari Silverwood
7. "This is the circus of Dr. Lao.We show you things that you don't know.We tell you of places you'll never go.We've searched the world both high and lowTo capture the beasts for this marvelous showFrom mountains where maddened winds did blowTo islands where zephyrs breathed sweet and low.Oh, we've spared no pains and we've spared no dough;And we've dug at the secrets of long ago;And we've risen to Heaven and plunged Below,For we wanted to make it one hell of a show.And the things you'll see in your brains will glowLong past the time when the winter snowHas frozen the summer's furbelow.For this is the circus of Dr. Lao.And youth may come and age may go;But no more circuses like this show!"
Author: Charles Grandison Finney
8. "The truth is dark under your eyelids.What are you going to do about it?The birds are silent; there's no one to ask.All day long you'll squint at the gray sky.When the wind blows you'll shiver like straw.A meek little lamb you grew your woolTill they came after you with huge shears.Flies hovered over open mouth,Then they, too, flew off like the leaves,The bare branches reached after them in vain. Winter coming. Like the last heroic soldierOf a defeated army, you'll stay at your post,Head bared to the first snow flake.Till a neighbor comes to yell at you,You're crazier than the weather, Charlie."
Author: Charles Simic
9. "In the bleak midwinter Frosty wind made moan, Earth stood hard as iron, Water like a stone; Snow had fallen, Snow on snow, Snow on snow, In the bleak midwinter, Long ago."
Author: Christina Rossetti
10. "Winter denial: therein lay the key to California Schadenfreude--the secret joy that the rest of the country feels at the misfortune of California. The country said: "Look at them, with their fitness and their tans, their beaches and their movie stars, their Silicon Valley and silicone breasts, their orange bridge and their palm trees. God, I hate those smug, sunshiny bastards!" Because if you're up to your navel in a snowdrift in Ohio, nothing warms your heart like the sight of California on fire. If you're shoveling silt out of your basement in the Fargo flood zone, nothing brightens your day like watching a Malibu mansion tumbling down a cliff into the sea. And if a tornado just peppered the land around your Oklahoma town with random trailer trash and redneck nuggets, then you can find a quantum of solace in the fact that the earth actually opened up in the San Fernando Valley and swallowed a whole caravan of commuting SUVs."
Author: Christopher Moore
11. "Winter has arrived in North London. Snow has settled. The white snow looks beautiful and covers everything my eyes can see, yet beneath the incomprehensible beauty, the snow freezes greenery which struggles to breathe. Green leaves freeze from existence as children scream go faster to fathers who push them along in upside down bin lids, as they make the most of their schools being closed."
Author: Craig Stone
12. "The elk that you glimpse in the summer, those at the forest edge, are survivors of winter, only the strongest. You see one just before dusk that summer, standing at the perimeter of the meadow so it can step back to the forest and vanish. You can't help imagining the still, frozen nights behind it, so cold that the slightest motion is monumental. I have found their bodies, half drifted over in snow, no sign of animal attack or injury. Just toppled over one night with ice working into their lungs. You wouldn't want to stand outside for more than a few minutes in that kind of weather. If you lived through only one of those winters the way this elk has, you would write books about it. You would become a shaman. You would be forever changed. That elk from the winter stands there on the summer evening, watching from beside the forest. It keeps its story to itself."
Author: Craig Childs
13. "LightThat's how I feel-like the winter-fringedbreeze might scoopme up into its wings,flyaway with me trappedin its feathered embrace.I am a snowflake.A wisp of eiderdown,liberatedfrom gravity. My bodyis light. Ephemeral.My head is light.I want to swaybeneaththe weight of air,dizzy with thought.Light filters throughmy closed eyelids.The sun,chasing shadows,tells me I'm notafloat in dreams."
Author: Ellen Hopkins
14. "At LastIt's a perfect winter day.No wind. No Arctic freeze.Cloudless azure sky. A dayto fly.Snow drapes the mountain like ermine, fabulous feather-light powder coaxing meto fleethe confines of my room, bravethe mostly plowed roadup to the closest ski resort.To runfrom the cloying silenceconnected Mom and Dad,into encompassing stillnessfar awayfrom city dirt and noiseFar above suburban gridlock.Far beyond the grasp of home."
Author: Ellen Hopkins
15. "I even read aloud the part of the novel I had rewritten, which is about as low as a writer can get and much more dangerous for him than glacier skiing unroped before the full winter snowfall has set over the crevices.When they said, 'It's great, Ernest. Truly, it's great. You cannot know the thing it has," I wagged my tail in pleasure and plunged into the fiesta concept of life to see if I could not bring some attractive stick back, instead of thinking, 'If these bastards like it what is wrong with it?' That was what I would think if I had been functioning as a professional although, if I had been functioning as a professional, I would never have read it to them."
Author: Ernest Hemingway
16. "When we pulled out into the winter night and the real snow, our snow, began to stretch out beside us and twinkle against the windows, and the dim lights of small Wisconsin stations moved by, a sharp wild brace came suddenly into the air. That's my middle-west - not the wheat or the prairies or the lost Swede towns, but the thrilling returning trains of my youth and the street lamps and sleigh bells in the frosty dark and the shadows of holly wreaths thrown by lighted windows on the snow."
Author: F. Scott Fitzgerald
17. "How COULD they endure my happiness, if I did not put around it accidents, and winter-privations, and bear-skin caps, and enmantling snowflakes!"
Author: Friedrich Nietzsche
18. "At the Summer Solstice, all is green and growing, potential coming into being, the miracle of manifestation painted large on the canvas of awareness. At the Winter Solstice, the wind is cold, trees are bare and all lies in stillness beneath blankets of snow."
Author: Gary Zukav
19. "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?"
Author: George Gissing
20. "Oh, my sweet summer child," Old Nan said quietly, "what do you know of fear?Fear is for the winter, my little lord, when the snows fall a hundred feetdeep and the ice wind comes howling out of the north. Fear is for the longnight, when the sun hides its face for years at a time, and little childrenare born and live and die all in darkness while the direwolves grow gaunt andhungry, and the white walkers move through the woods"
Author: George R.R. Martin
21. "She remembered a tale she had heard from Old Nan, about how sometimes during a long winter men who'd lived beyond their years would announce that they were going hunting. And their daughters would weep and their sons would turn their faces to the fire, she could hear Old Nan saying, but no one would stop them, or ask what game they meant to hunt, with the snows so deep and the cold wind howling. She wondered what the old Braavosi told their sons and daughters, before they set off."
Author: George R.R. Martin
22. "I've always wished that spring would come...because I was so afraid of the cold world, cloaked in white. It did nothing but make me curl myself into a ball. I had always kept myself curled up, but never once really tried to take a good look at winter...The softness of the snowflakes that fall without a sound, the beautiful forests that are as splendid as a white flower in bloom, and if you have that special person to share it all with...that white world can be utterly beautiful."
Author: Hajin Yoo
23. "Daylight would have shown a wilderness weathered and blowzy, a wanton that had lived her summer too fast and too greedily. It would have shown the white birches pale and shivering in a sudden ague, and here and there an ash or a sumac burning red, like a hectic spot, where the first frosts already had set the marks of their galloping consumption on the cheek of the forest, giving warning of the time when the white plague of the winter would make a massacre of all this present glory and turn the trees to naked skeletons and stretch a bony bare cadaver on every steeper hillside to bleach there until the snows covered things up. But now the kindly nighttime had all signs and threats of approaching death, so that each shriveled speckled leaf, as revealed and traced in the waning light, seemed flawless — a perfect part of a perfect tapestry."
Author: Irvin S. Cobb
24. "In winter night Massachusetts Street is dismal, the ground's frozen cold, the ruts and pock holes have ice, thin snow slides over the jagged black cracks. The river is frozen to stolidity, waits; hung on a shore with remnant show-off boughs of June-- Ice skaters, Swedes, Irish girls, yellers and singers--they throng on the white ice beneath the crinkly stars that have no altar moon, no voice, but down heavy tragic space make halyards of Heaven on in deep, to where the figures fantastic amassed by scientists cream in a cold mass; the veil of Heaven on tiaras and diadems of a great Eternity Brunette called night."
Author: Jack Kerouac
25. "In winter darkness, the Baghdad Arabian keen blue deepness of the piercing lovely January winter's dusk--it used to tear my heart out, one stabbing soft star was in the middle of the magicalest blue, throbbing like love--I saw Maggie's black hair in this night-- In the shelves of Orion her eye shades, borrowed, gleamed a dark and proud vellum somber power brooding rich bracelets of the moon rose from our snow, and surrounded the mystery."
Author: Jack Kerouac
26. "In May, when the grass was so green it hurt to look at it, the air so overpoweringly sweet you had to go in and turn on the television just to dull your senses- that's when Claire knew it was time to look for the asparagus in the pastures. If it rained she wondered if she should check our secret places for morels. In June, when the strawberries ripened, we made hay and the girls rode on top of the wagon. I was ever mindful of the boy who had fallen off and broken his neck. In July, the pink raspberries, all in brambles in the woods and growing up our front porch, turned black and tart. In August, the sour apples were the coming thing. In September there were the crippled-up pears in the old orchard. In October, we picked the pumpkin and popcorn. And all winter, when there was snow, we lived for the wild trip down the slopes on the toboggan."
Author: Jane Hamilton
27. "It is winter now,and the roses are blooming again,their petals bright against the snow.My father died last April;my sisters no longer write,except at the turning of the year,content with their fine housesand their grandchildren.Beast and Iputter in the gardensand walk slowly on the forest paths.[from the poem, Beauty and the Beast: An Anniversary]"
Author: Jane Yolen
28. "Both formality and dinner forgotten we sat on the floor of the little library, choosing. Sometimes Dr Portman read passages aloud and turned his own memories with their dark side to face the light. And it was late afternoon when, with a headache of happiness, I returned to the ward. And from that day I felt in myself a reserve of warmth from which I could help myself, like coal from the cellar on a winter's day, if the snow came or if the frost fell in the night to blacken the flowers and wither the new fruit."
Author: Janet Frame
29. "I ne'er was stuck before that hour,With love so sudden and so sweet.Her face it bloomed like a sweet flower,And stole my heart away complete.My face turned pale as deadly pale. My legs refused to walk away.And when she looked, what could I ail?My life and all seemed turned to clay."And then my blood rushed to my face,And took my eyesight quite away.The trees and bushes round the place,Seemed midnight at noonday.I could not see a single thing,Words from my eyes did start,They spoke as chords do from the string,And blood burnt round my heart."Are flowers the winter's choice?Is love bed's always snow?She seemed to hear my silent voice,Not love's appeals to know.I never saw so sweet a faceAs that I stood before.My heart has left its dwelling-placeAnd can turn no more."
Author: John Clare
30. "...winter crescent resting in the high pine bough - you fly through the woods like a lone snow bird..."
Author: John Geddes
31. "Ladies and Felines," he stated grandly, grasping the doorknob, "Welcome to Tir Na Nog. Land of endless winter and shitloads of snow."
Author: Julie Kagawa
32. "There are winter evenings in Massachusetts when there is no wind and the crust on the snow seems to hold in the cold. And if the moon is three-quarters full, its light adds a kind of warmth to the surrounding earth."
Author: Kathleen Kent
33. "You know, I couldn't imagine living somewhere without seasons."Yeah?"Real seasons, I mean. I'd miss the changes, the variety. Especially spring. I couldn't live without spring. Days like today are worth every snowstorm and slush puddle. By March, it seems like winter will never end. All that snow and ice that seemed so wonderful in December is driving you crazy. But you know spring's coming. Every year, you wait for that first warm day, then the next and the next, each better than the last. You can't help but be happy. You forget winter and get the chance to start over. Fresh possibilities."A fresh start."
Author: Kelley Armstrong
34. "It reminded me of what Dad said after every snail's crawl home fromAlbany when snow hit."It's New York, people. It's winter. We get snow. If you aren't preparedto deal with it, move to Miami."
Author: Kelley Armstrong
35. "I loved wintertime in Kabul. I loved it for the soft pattering of snow against my window at night, for the way fresh snow crunched under my black rubber boots, for the warmth of the cast-iron stove as the wind screeched through the yards, the streets. But mostly because, as the trees froze and ice sheathed the roads, the chill between Baba and me thawed a little. And the reason for that was the kites. Baba and I lived in the same house, but in different spheres of existence. Kites were the one paper thin slice of intersection between those spheres."
Author: Khaled Hosseini
36. "Van Gogh on Christmas: And now we're slowly heading towards winter, and many dread it, but Christmas is wonderful, it's like the moss on the roofs and like the pine and the holly and the ivy in the snow. Isleworth, 10 November 1876"
Author: Liesbeth Heenk
37. "Who will you be when faced with the end?The end of a kingdom,The end of good men,Will you run?Will you hide?Or will you hunt down evil with a venomous pride?Rise to the ashes,Rise to the winter sky,Rise to the calling,Make heard the battle cry.Let it scream from the mountainsFrom the forest to the chapel,Because death is a hungry mouthAnd you are the apple.So who will you be when faced with the end?When the vultures are circlingAnd the shadows descendWill you cower?Or will you fight?Is your heart made of glass?Or a pure Snow White?"
Author: Lily Blake
38. "I enjoy hiking and skiing, like most Norwegians. In winter, there will be snow for months on end. In the summer, there are the long evenings to enjoy."
Author: Magnus Carlsen
39. "Vodka goes well with a wintery perspective. Nothing else provokes such presentiments of falling snow except, for some, the communist seizure of the state."
Author: Michèle Bernstein
40. "...trees to cool the towns in the boiling summer, trees to hold back the winter winds. There were so many things a tree could do: add color, provide shade, drop fruit, or become a children's playground, a whole sky universe to climb and hang from; an architecture of food and pleasure, that was a tree. But most of all the trees would distill an icy air for the lungs, and a gentle rustling for the ear when you lay nights in your snowy bed and were gentled to sleep by the sound."
Author: Ray Bradbury
41. "We are all treading the vanishing road of a song in the air, the vanishing road of the spring flowers and the winter snows, the vanishing roads of the winds and the streams, the vanishing road of beloved faces."
Author: Richard Le Gallienne
42. "Can you get a summer snow-globe instead of a winter one with green grass and flowering azalea bushes and blue sky? Because I'm here, inside it. If you shake it, perhaps it fills with black smoke, not swirling snowflakes."
Author: Rosamund Lupton
43. "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."
Author: Sarah Micklem
44. "I headed downtown right away. It was still early in the evening, glittering with electric, with ice; and trembling in the factories, those nearly all windows, over the prairies that had returned over demolitions with winter grass pricking the snow and thrashed and frozen together into beards by the wind. The cold simmer of the lake also, blue; the steady skating of rails too, down to the dark."
Author: Saul Bellow
45. "Birds are flyin' south for winter.Here's the Weird-Bird headin' north,Wings a-flappin', beak a-chatterin',Cold head bobbin' back 'n' forth.He says, "It's not that I like iceOr freezin' winds and snowy ground.It's just sometimes it's kind of niceTo be the only bird in town."
Author: Shel Silverstein
46. "And in the winter, which was confined by statute to two months, the snow lay evenly, three feet thick, but never turned into slush."
Author: T.H. White
47. "Winter kept us warm, coveringEarth in forgetful snow"
Author: T.S. Eliot
48. "But the room is cold, the words in the books are cold;And the question of whether we get what we ask forIs absurd, unanswered by the sound of an unlatched doorRattling in wind, or the sound of snow on roofs, or glareOf the winter sun. What we have learned is not what we were told.I watch the snow, feel for the heartbeat that is not there."
Author: Weldon Kees
49. "While the train flashed through never-ending miles of ripe wheat, by country towns and bright-flowered pastures and oak groves wilting in the sun, we sat in the observation car, where the woodwork was hot to the touch and red dust lay deep over everything. The dust and heat, the burning wind, reminded us of many things. We were talking about what it is like to spend one's childhood in little towns like these, buried in wheat and corn, under stimulating extremes of climate: burning summers when the world lies green and billowy beneath a brilliant sky, when one is fairly stifled in vegetation, in the color and smell of strong weeds and heavy harvests; blustery winters with little snow, when the whole country is stripped bare and gray as sheet-iron. We agreed that no one who had not grown up in a little prairie town could know anything about it. It was a kind of freemasonry, we said."
Author: Willa Cather
50. "Remember the rights of the savage, as we call him. Remember that the happiness of his humble home, remember that the sanctity of life in the hill villages of Afghanistan, among the winter snows, is as inviolable in the eye of Almighty God, as can be your own."
Author: William E. Gladstone

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