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Winter Quotes

Browse 2200 quotes about Winter.

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Winter Quotes

“In Tenebris I Wintertime nighs; But my bereavement-pain It cannot bring again: Twice no one dies. Flower-petals flee; But, since it once hath been, No more that severing scene Can harrow me. Birds faint in dread: I shall not lose old strength In the lone frost's black length: Strength long since fled! Leaves freeze to dun; But friends can not turn cold This season as of old For him with none. Tempests may scath; But love can not make smart Again this year his heart Who no heart hath. Black is night's cope; But death will not appal One who, past doubtings all, Waits in unhope.”

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Book:Poems of the Past and the Present
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“Be ahead of all parting, as though it already were behind you, like the winter that has just gone by. For among these winters there is one so endlessly winter that only by wintering through it will your heart survive. (Sei allem Abschied voran, als wäre er hinter dir, wie der Winter, der eben geht. Denn unter Wintern ist einer so endlos Winter, daß, überwinternd, dein Herz überhaupt übersteht.)”

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Author:Rainer Maria Rilke
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“The Snowman by Stewart Stafford My snowball heart is a sorbet, With delusions of grandeur, Use alcohol instead of snow, And I'd make a fine iced liqueur. My arrival and departure, Are never certain things, Wherever the North wind blows, I descend on the iciest wings. Here one day, gone the next, My appearances are fleeting, Then I'm disembodied by thaws, Until our next frosty meeting. © Stewart Stafford, 2021. All rights reserved.”

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Author:Stewart Stafford
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“Below us was a frozen lake. It was perfectly round, a great gleaming eye in which the moon and stars were mirrored. Lanterns glowing the same cold white as the aurora dangled from lampposts made of ice, which framed paths from the lake’s edge to a scattering of benches and merchant-stands, draped in bright awnings of opal and blue. Delicious smells floated on the wind—smoked fish; fire-roasted nuts and candies; spiced cakes. A winter fair.”

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Book:Emily Wilde's Encyclopaedia of Faeries
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“Caught in the doldrums of August we may have regretted the departing summer, having sighed over the vanished strawberries and all that they signified. Now, however, we look forward almost eagerly to winter's approach. We forget the fogs, the slush, the sore throats an the price of coal, we think only of long evenings by lamplight, of the books which we are really going to read this time, of the bright shop windows and the keen edge of the early frosts.”

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Book:Greenery Street
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“All dwellers in the Teutonic north, looking out at the winter sky, are subject to spasms of nearly irresistible pull, when the entire Italian peninsula from Trieste to Agrigento begins to function like a lodestone. The magnetism is backed by an unseen choir, there are roulades of mandoline strings in the air; ghostly whiffs of lemon blossom beckon the victims south and across the Alpine passes.”

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Book:A Time of Gifts
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“A number of years ago I had some experience with being alone. For two succeeding years I was alone each winter for eight months at a stretch in the Sierra Nevada mountains on Lake Tahoe. I was the caretaker on a summer estate during the winter months when it was snowed in. And I made some observations then. As time went on I found that my reactions thickened. Ordinarily I am a whistler. I stopped whistling. I stopped conversing with my dogs, and I believe that the subtleties of feeling began to disappear until finally I was on a pleasure-pain basis. Then it occurred to me that the delicate shades of feeling, of reaction, are the result of communication, and without such communication they tend to disappear. A man with nothing to say has no words. Can its reverse be true- a man who has no one to say anything to has no words as he has no need for words? ... Only through imitation do we develop toward originality.”

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Book:Travels with Charley: In Search of America
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“Quinns always come at half price, about half the time, and half-naked, even during the colder half of winter. A Quinn is like a queen, but draggier, and cheaper to buy and use for personal gain, unless you’re suspicious that you’re poor and illiterate like Jarod Kintz, in which case Quinns could be the spirits of your dead relatives, come to haunt you until you gather a massive fortune through selling books on the internet, to send some back in time through a portal you bought from the NSA, so they would have lived better lives without having to move a finger for their fortune. Oh, yah, and since they aren’t - they’re blue, like smurfs, yet they turn purple whenever tickled on the belly, which is something they seem to rather dislike, since they start biting and scratching when it happens, for no good reason, I might add.”

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Book:Nothing is here...
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“Without the rivers, there would be no oceans. Without the valleys, there would be no mountains, and without summer, there would be no winter. Everything in life happens for a reason, and each element plays a crucial role in the grand scheme of things.”

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Book:Coming to Grips with the Mountains and Valleys of This World
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“That time of year thou mayst in me behold When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang. In me thou seest the twilight of such day As after sunset fadeth in the west, Which by and by black night doth take away, Death's second self, that seals up all in rest. In me thou see'st the glowing of such fire That on the ashes of his youth doth lie, As the death-bed whereon it must expire Consumed with that which it was nourish'd by. This thou perceivest, which makes thy love more strong, To love that well which thou must leave ere long.”

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Book:Shakespeare's Sonnets
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“The Winter Miles The roads of solitude grow whiter,
And stones beneath us paler,
While the green fades completely —
Ahead of us. Grey is the sombre tone we keep,
While wandering along the street
That becomes our destiny —
With each step. Our knees fall into the snow; The trembling stops at last, Here our souls will find eternal rest — In silent grace. -Laura Chouette”

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Author:Laura Chouette
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“Christmas Hyacinths The air grows cleaner with each sight
Of words - silver and clear -
Without heaviness and sighs. Winter closes in on each street,
That familiar place we haunted to keep,
While we hope to seek the dearest near. Frozen blossoms in trembling hands,
With shadows of blue and grey,
Counting footsteps back into the heat. The emptiness of many
Is returned in ink and choirs,
With doubt and cherish,
Crowned with blessings all around.”

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Author:Laura Chouette
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“The Hibernal Realm by Stewart Stafford The compass knows not which way to go, And Life's submerged in winter's snow, The path before us fit for sleds, Dusted with a blizzard's web. Clear a path and the light the way, And get us through to break of day, Step through the ice-encrusted door, That shows the way to the dawn thaw. Stay too long in the hibernal realm, And the chill begins to overwhelm, Sit, rest, and take respite, And become at one with fading light. See The Winter King and then bow down, With frostbite smile and holly crown, Icicle sceptre makes the heartbeat slow, Lonely as the North wind blows. © Stewart Stafford, 2021. All rights reserved.”

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Author:Stewart Stafford
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“Look: this is January the worst onslaught is ahead of us Don't be lured by these soft grey afternoons these sunsets cut from pink and violet tissue-paper by the thought the days are lengthening Don't let the solstice fool you: our lives will always be a stew of contradictions the worst moment of winter can come in April when the peepers are stubbornly still and our bodies plod on without conviction and our thoughts cramp down before the sheer arsenal of everything that tries us: this battering, blunt-edged life”

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Book:Your Native Land, Your Life
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“Once, I had dreaded that first snow, had lived in terror of long, brutal winters. But it had been a long, brutal winter that had brought me so deep into the woods that day nearly two years ago. A long, brutal winter that had made me desperate enough to kill a wolf, that had eventually led me here- to this life, this... happiness.”

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Book:A Court of Wings and Ruin
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