Explore Quotes on Winter

It was not in the winter_x000D__x000D_Our loving lot was cast!_x000D__x000D_It was the time of roses,_x000D__x000D_We plucked them as we passed!

When I'm drawing, I'm drawing with the light, being completely open and creative. I can't draw in the evening. I need light and I need warmth if it is a summer thing, and I need cold if it is a winter collection. The good thing is that I have houses to go to whenever I'm working. I draw according to the place.

Be faithful in all your exercises of piety and virtue; be always resigned; be satisfied, in the superior part of your soul, to taste, without relish, the contentment of doing God's will. Thus after the winter the spring will come, with its flowers, and you will hear the voice of the turtle-dove in this land.

Love comforteth like sunshine after rain,_x000D__x000D_But Lust's effect is tempest after sun;_x000D__x000D_Love's gentle spring doth always fresh remain,_x000D__x000D_Lust's winter comes ere summer half be done;_x000D__x000D_Love surfeits not, Lust like a glutton dies;_x000D__x000D_Love is all truth, Lust full of forged lies.

Love can never grow old. Looks may lose their brown and gold. Cheeks may fade and hollow grow. But the hearts that love will know, never winter's frost and chill, summer's warmth is in them still.

What freezings I have felt, what dark days seen,_x000D__x000D_What old December's bareness everywhere!

To me, fair friend, you never can be old, _x000D__x000D_For as you were when first your eye I eyed,_x000D__x000D_Such seems your beauty still. Three winters cold _x000D__x000D_Have from the forests shook three summers' pride,_x000D__x000D_Three beauteous springs to yellow autumn turn'd _x000D__x000D_In process of the seasons have I seen, _x000D__x000D_Three April perfumes in three hot Junes burn'd,_x000D__x000D_Since first I saw you fresh, which yet are green.

Winter's not gone yet, if the wild geese fly that way.

The seasons alter: hoary-headed frosts _x000D__x000D_Fall in the fresh lap of the crimson rose,_x000D__x000D_And on old Hiems' thin and icy crown _x000D__x000D_An odorous chaplet of sweet summer buds_x000D__x000D_Is, as in mockery, set. The spring, the summer,_x000D__x000D_The childing autumn, angry winter, change_x000D__x000D_Their wonted liveries, and the mazed world,_x000D__x000D_By their increase, now knows not which is which.

Thou knowest, winter tames man, woman, and beast.

Here feel we but the penalty of Adam,_x000D__x000D_The seasons' difference, as the icy fang_x000D__x000D_And churlish chiding of the winter's wind,_x000D__x000D_Which, when it bites and blows upon my body,_x000D__x000D_Even till I shrink with cold, I smile.

Thus sometimes hath the brightest day a cloud;_x000D__x000D_And after summer evermore succeeds_x000D__x000D_Barren winter, with his wrathful nipping cold:_x000D__x000D_So cares and joys abound, as seasons fleet.

When daffodils begin to peer, _x000D__x000D_With heigh! the doxy, over the dale,_x000D__x000D_Why, then comes in the sweet o' the year;_x000D__x000D_For the red blood reigns in the winter's pale. _x000D__x000D_The white sheet bleaching on the hedge,_x000D__x000D_With heigh! the sweet birds, O, how they sing! _x000D__x000D_Doth set my pugging tooth on edge; _x000D__x000D_For a quart of ale is a dish for a king.

Hockey captures the essence of Canadian experience in the New World. In a land so inescapably and inhospitably cold, hockey is the chance of life, and an affirmation that despite the deathly chill of winter we are alive.

Spring comes with flowers, autumn with the moon, summer with the breeze, winter with snow. When idle concerns don't fill your thoughts, that's your best season.

... the spring, the summer, The chilling autumn, angry winter, change Their wonted liveries; and the mazed world By their increase, now knows not which is which.

Then sleep the seasons, full of might; While slowly swells the pod, And rounds the peach, and in the night The mushroom bursts the sod. The winter comes: the frozen rut Is bound with silver bars; the white drift heaps against the hut; and night is pierced with stars.

The solitude lends much appeal, because a sea without a harbour surrounds it. Even a modest boat can find few anchorage, and nobody can go ashore unnoticed by the guards. Its winter is mild because it is enclosed by a range of mountains which keeps out the fierce temperature; its summer is unequal. The open sea is very pleasant and it has a view of a beautiful bay.

If there were no tribulation, there would be no rest; if there were no winter, there would be no summer.

There be delights that will fetch the day about from sun to sun and rock the tedious year as in a delightful dream ... For a garden is Arcady brought home. It is man's bit of gaudy make-believe - his well-disguised fiction of an unvexed Paradise ... a world where gayety knows no eclipse and winter and rough weather are held at bay.

Once more I am the silent one who came out of the distance wrapped in cold rain and bells: I owe to earth's pure death the will to sprout.