Winter Quotes - Page 5

And seemingly as winter has become spring, confusion has become insight.

In Romania, I train on a bar that is bent. My gym has bad lighting and very little heat in the winters. Here in America, you have everything you need to train. It's not in the bar or the gym or the platform it's in you.

An Indian's dress of deer skins, which is wet a hundred times upon his back, dries soft; and his lodge also, which stands in the rains, and even through the severity of winter, is taken down as soft and as clean as when it was first put up.

Winter blues are cured every time with a potato gratin paired with a roast chicken.

Never are voices so beautiful as on a winter's evening, when dusk almost hides the body, and they seem to issue from nothingness with a note of intimacy seldom heard by day.

October extinguished itself in a rush of howling winds and driving rain and November arrived, cold as frozen iron, with hard frosts every morning and icy drafts that bit at exposed hands and faces.

Winter is the time of promise because there is so little to do - or because you can now and then permit yourself the luxury of thinking so.

Everybody thought that Titanic was the most romantic movie ever. A story about two teenagers who knew each other for three days. Try to make that movie with a couple that's been together for a few years. 'Get in the goddamn boat, Rose!' 'I don't wanna get in the boat!' 'Get in, come on, I'm freezing my ass off out here! I wanted to go to Jamaica, but no, we had to go on a cruise in the middle of the winter!' 'You never draw me naked anymore'

She belongs to the winter that is past, to the darkness that is over, and has no part or lot in the life I shall lead for the next six months. Oh, I could dance and sing for joy that the spring is here! What a ressurection of beauty there is in my garden, and of brightest hope in my heart.

One need never be dull as long as one has friends to help, gardens to enjoy and books in the long winter evenings.

In the winter she curls up around a good book and dreams away the cold.

Whether it's cushions you only use outside in the summer, or blankets that only come out in the winter, you've always got to think of where to store them.

Winter lies too long in country towns; hangs on until it is stale and shabby, old and sullen.

Will biofuel usage require land? Absolutely, but we think the ability to use winter cover crops, degraded land, as well as using sources such as organic waste, sewage, and forest waste means that actual land usage will be limited. Just these sources can replace most of our imported oil by 2030 without touching new land.

Through the chill of December the early winter moans... but it's that January wind that rattles old bones.

I frequently tramped eight or ten miles through the deepest snow to keep an appointment with a beechtree, or a yellow birch, or an old acquaintance among the pines.

There's rosemary and rue. These keep Seeming and savor all the winter long. Grace and remembrance be to you.

Swans in the winter air A white perfection have

Walking, I can almost hear the redwoods beating. And the oceans are above me here, rolling clouds, heavy and dark. It is winter and there is smoke from the fires. It is a world of elemental attention, of all things working together, listening to what speaks in the blood. Whichever road I follow, I walk in the land of many gods, and they love and eat one another. Suddenly all my ancestors are behind me. Be still, they say. Watch and listen. You are the result of the love of thousands.

When I was in Afghanistan in 2007, I went from village to village where refugees had returned, and they were living out in the open under tents, sometimes completely exposed to the environment. And they were homeless, which meant they would lose children in the winter to the cold and in the summers in the extreme heat. It's extremely humiliating for them to be homeless, culturally it's very shameful.

Snow provokes responses that reach right back to childhood.

Today...the bluebirds, old and young, have revisited their box, as if they would fain repeat the summer without intervention of winter, if Nature would let them.

We all get the same amount of ice. The rich get it in the summer. The poor get it in the winter.

Now is the winter of our discontent.

December's wintery breath is already clouding the pond, frosting the pane, obscuring summer's memory.