Quotes on Snow

Remember: Plot is no more than footprints left in the snow after your characters have run by on their way to incredible destinations. Plot is observed after the fact rather than before. It cannot precede action. It is the chart that remains when an action is through. That is all Plot ever should be. It is human desire let run, running, and reaching a goal. It cannot be mechanical. It can only be dynamic.

How sublime to look down on the workhouse of nature, to see her clouds, hail, snow, rain, thunder, all fabricated at our feet!

Snow was falling, so much like stars filling the dak trees that one could easily imagine its reason for being was nothing more the prettiness.

Nobody saves America by sniffing cocaine. Jiggling your knees blankeyed in the rain, when it snows in your nose you catch cold in your brain.

It was evening all afternoon._x000D_ _x000D_ It was snowing_x000D_ _x000D_ And it was going to snow._x000D_ _x000D_ The blackbird sat_x000D_ _x000D_ In the cedar-limbs.

Comedy keeps the heart sweet; but we all know that there is wholesome refreshment for both mind and heart in an occasional climb among the pomps of the intellectual snow-summits built by Shakespeare and those others.

Let every man shovel out his own snow and the whole city will be passable.

Resting on your laurels is as dangerous as resting when you are walking in the snow. You doze off and die in your sleep.

I love snow, snow, and all the forms of radiant frost.

As fire does not give birth to snow, so those who seek honor here will not enjoy it in heaven... As those who climb a rotten ladder are in danger, so all honor, glory, and power are opposed to humility.

There is a privacy about it which no other season gives you.... In spring, summer and fall people sort of have an open season on each other; only in the winter, in the country, can you have longer, quiet stretches when you can savor belonging to yourself.

Snow endures but for a season, and joy comes with the morning.

These be Three silent things: The Falling snow. . . the hour Before the dawn. . . the mouth of one Just dead.

Thou ever young, fresh, lov'd, and delicate wooer, whose blush doth thaw the consecrated snow

Nature has no mercy at all. Nature says, "I'm going to snow. If you have on a bikini and no snowshoes, that's tough. I am going to snow anyway."

The memories of long love gather like drifting snow, poignant as the mandarin ducks who float side by side in sleep.

Union of the weakest develops strength not wisdom. Can all men, together, avenge one of the leaves that have fallen in autumn? But the wise man avenges by building his city in snow.

What if this cursed hand_x000D_ _x000D_ Were thicker than itself with brother's blood_x000D_ _x000D_ Is there not rain enough in the sweet heaves_x000D_ _x000D_ To wash it white as snow?

In any man who dies there dies with him his first snow and kiss and fight... Not people die but worlds die in them.

At Christmas I no more desire a rose _x000D_ _x000D_ Than wish a snow in May's new-fangled mirth;_x000D_ _x000D_ But like of each thing that in season grows.

For winter's rains and ruins are over, And all the season of snows and sins; The days dividing lover and lover, The light that loses, the night that wins; And time remembered isgrief forgotten, And frosts are slain and flowers begotten, And in green underwood and cover Blossom by blossom the spring begins.