Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Winterbourne's. Share them with your friends on social media platforms like Facebook, Twitter, or your personal blogs, and let the world be inspired by their powerful messages. Here are the Top 100 Winterbourne's Quotes And Sayings by 90 Authors including John Geddes,Griff Hosker,F Scott Fitzgerald,Erin O'connor,Patrick Rothfuss for you to enjoy and share.
Winter crescent resting in the high pine bough - you fly through the woods like a lone snow bird ...
Winter is coming.
Hello - what hotel is this - ?
Winter is my favourite season.
Anker's was low-class enough so that the drinks were cheap, but high-class enough so that you didn't have to worry about someone picking a fight or throwing up on you. I liked it.
Little Caesar's Pizza,
The Hemlock Tearoom and Stationery
There is a wilder solitude in winter When every sense is pricked alive and keen.
The combination of olive oil, garlic and lemon juice lifts the spirits in winter.
On the Jellicoe road
Rememberatorium),
My garden in England is full of eating-out places, for heat waves, warm September evenings, or lunch on a frosty Christmas morning.
Blakes Hotel in South Kensington was a particular favourite of mine during what I affectionately think of as my Restless Years.
Angleterre Hotel,
Roxy Music, Roxy Music Bengans, Stockholm Recommended by Kevin Rowland Royal
Dartmouth Winter Carnival opens, proving once again that bitter cold is no obstacle to going completely out of control.
Michael Winter's fiction is a lot like hearing him talk about his life ... harrowing in an after-the-fact hilarious way. Full of wonder and mystery. A hangover you wouldn't miss for the world.
Let's stop by the shades of a tavern--
Selling raspberry handshakes,
Let's recline by the shimmer of a lantern-
Trampling the silence of snowflakes;
Westering's died out, Jody.
In the spring or warmer weather when the snow thaws in the woods the tracks of winter reappear on slender pedestals and the snow reveals in palimpsest old buried wanderings, struggles, scenes of death. Tales of winter brought to light again like time turned back upon itself.
One must have a mind of winter
To regard the frost and the boughs
Of the pine-trees crusted with snow
winter plumb
not plumb
Street towards Covent Garden. There was
I like the club. It looks nice with all the tables out. They were freaking out, the Gilly's people.
Winter was coming; the
Winter is not so dangerous. I need hardness, cold, rigidity; not this heaviness, as if I'm a melon on a stem, this liquid ripeness. The
Swans in the winter air
A white perfection have
Where shall I find a style to catch a stroll,
Chablis on ice, a crisply toasted roll,
The agate succulence of cherries ripe?
The sunset's far, the ocean's splashing cool
Can offer solace to a sunburned nape.
vice-chancellor's
For everyday clothes, I love North Face and Rohan, and for smarter options, I like Whistles and Agnes b on Marylebone High Street.
Maine is a joy in the summer. But the soul of Maine is more apparent in the winter.
exhibition. Lake Eden.
One week I'll get pancakes at Bongo Room, the next week I go to Kuma's Corner. But I always end up at Coldstone. I love ice cream.
Here in the summer desert, winter found my blood
hot breakfast on a cold winter morning
year-round. When
Where does one purchase a mustache in London? Fleet Street?
The winter is kind and leaves red berries on the boughs for hungry sparrows ...
A Winterian wielding an Autumnian weapon, using Cordellan allegiance to bring Spring crumbling down.
Try to fit in." Winter glanced at her, a moment of perfect clarity and even humor in the look. She was right. They were filthy. They were bloody. Winter was a well-loved princess who was prettier than a bouquet of roses and crazier than a headless chicken. Fitting in would be a miracle.
If the October days were a cordial like the sub-acids of fruit, these are a tonic like the wine of iron. Drink deep or be careful how you taste this December vintage. The first sip may chill, but a full draught warms and invigorates.
SPRING COMES INTO Massachusetts with her famous flame. God's breath warming the winter out of things
You can't get too much winter in the winter.
The winter will be short, the summer long,
The autumn amber-hued, sunny and hot,
Tasting of cider and of scuppernong.
NORTH WALES, LLANDUDNO and SNOWDONIA: What to see, where to go, what to do. By
One must have a mind of winter.
The restaurants close here in Salzburg. They don't really have a nightlife in the winter time.
This is my first snow at Smith. It is like any other snow, but from a different window, and there lies the singular charm of it.
SPRING In every winter's heart there is a quivering spring, and behind the veil of each night there is a smiling dawn. SP-ST-57
No orchard's the worse for the wintriest storm;
But one thing about it, it mustn't get warm.
"How often already you've had to be told,
Keep cold, young orchard. Good-bye and keep cold.
Dread fifty above more than fifty below."
I have to be gone for a season or so.
I grew up in the countryside and always used to wear my parents' Barbour jackets. It is a fantastic British heritage brand.
It is the life of the crystal, the architect of the flake, the fire of the frost, the soul of the sunbeam. This crisp winter air is full of it.
But what would interest you about the brook,
It's always cold in summer, warm in winter.
It's cold enough to freeze the cliches off a Dan Browne novel. (Thought of that when working in the garden just after getting yet another 'thanks but no thanks'.)
Going to the seaside in winter is like seeing your partner first thing in the morning. Ugly, depressing and troubled by wind.
Whatever your tastes, Magrathea can cater for you. We are not proud.
Winter is where hope lies happy.
Give winter nothing; hold; and let the flake
Poise or dissolve along your upheld arms.
All flawless hexagons may melt and break;
While you must feel the summer's rage of fire,
Beyond this frigid season's empty storms.
Banished to bloom, and bear the birds' desire.
In this part of the world, only Maine gives winter the welcome and the worship it should have.
Winter
The season between autumn and spring, comprising in the Northern Hemisphere
the coldest months of the year:
December, January and February.
A period of inactivity or decay.
In winter we lead a more inward life. Our hearts are warm and cheery, like cottages under drifts ...
Take winter as you find him, and he turns out to be a thoroughly honest fellow; with no nonsense in him, which is a great comfort in the long-run.
I've made up so many stores about my name, I can't remember.
January is the despairing heart of the Scottish winter
--spring lamb roasted, with a mint jelly made from Constance's garden mint. Spring potatoes, new peas, a salad, again from Constance's garden. I remember it perfectly, madam. It is still one of my favorite meals.
There's rosemary and rue. These keep Seeming and savor all the winter long. Grace and remembrance be to you.
I know of no place where the wind can be as icy and the damp so penetrating as in Oxford round about Easter time.
Carli's was a small club at the end of a passage between a sporting-goods store and a circulating library. There was a grilled door and a man behind it who had given up trying to look as if it mattered who came in. (Smart-Aleck Kill)
Am dining at Goldini's Restaurant, Gloucester Road, Kensington. Please come at once and join me there. Bring with you a jemmy, a dark lantern, a chisel, and a revolver. S. H. It was a nice equipment for a respectable citizen to carry through the dim, fog-draped streets.
Eataly is the greatest - it's like food galore there. They have all of these little stations, like a pasta area and a pizza area. And they have the best gelato.
Winter is not a season, it's a celebration.
Shropshire, the fatlands of Gloucestershire,
Words cannot do justice to the pleasures of a good bookshop. Ironically.
(Waterstones Trafalgar Square)
Winter changes into stone the water of heaven and the heart of man.
That grand old poem called Winter
I like Target. I like the ones in the Midwest, personally. We don't really have those in England yet.
In winter I like sprawling novels, full of conflict and intrigue, and during the bleakest, coldest days of December I holed up with Nicola Griffith 's Hild, a book of love and sex and war and religious upheaval, and I recommend it even over the warmest pair of Sorels.
It happened during the winter of 1973, when evenings rang out stillborn from far across the weathered moorland, and snow fell hard and heavy and clung atop the peppered veins of nature's tough bracken, all picture-postcard like.
December's wintery breath is already clouding the pond, frosting the pane, obscuring summer's memory ...
Well being as there's no other place around the place, I reckon this must be the place, I reckon.
WINTER As the winter winds litter London with lonely hearts Oh the warmth in your eyes swept me into your arms Was it love or fear of the cold that led us through the night? For every kiss your beauty trumped my doubt Mumford & Sons ~Winter Winds
Here's flowers for you; hot lavender, mints, savory, marjoram; The marigold. The Winter's Tale, Act 4, Sc.4
One of my current pet theories is that the winter is a kind of evangelist, more subtle than Billy Graham, of course, but of the same stuff.
The new building housing the store. The
Mint-street and Kent-street--those old plague-spots that disgrace and disfigure the fair face of the Borough of Southwark--teem with blackguardism and vice; but here, too, you find that the birds who here flock are strictly of a feather. Cow-cross,
Holy things and holy places, out of mind under the cauterizing brilliance of the summer son, reared up now as the winter sun struck from the south, casting shadows coldly upon the avenues where the people followed and went in, wearing winter hearts on their sleeves for the plucking.
I was just thrown out of the barista parlor. Came to close to the Slayer. Amazing place!
Winter does not work only on a broad scale; he is careful in trifles.
To survive the Canadian winter, one needs a body of brass, eyes of glass, and blood made of brandy.
I wander forth this chill December dawn: John Frost and all his elves are out, I see, As busy as the elfin world can be, Clothing a world asleep with fleecy lawn.
In Boston serpents whistle at the cold.
Dark gods beneath the ground in the Frostfangs,
Frankly, the trouble with winter is, it is all backbone. It is fleshless, insensate, with neither a breast to be leaned on nor a heart to love and ache and, if need be, break, nor any kindly hand to fondle and caress like a sea-wave on a sunny shore half asleep.
the cottage lights
Where, incidentally, a holiday meal was not being served. My mother worked as a waitress at Palmer's Supper
Winter is the time of love and of taking the light within.
Have you by chance brought some real British tea? Twining's? Or from Jackson's in Piccadilly?
Winter is on the road to spring. Some think it a surly road. I do not. A primrose road to spring were not as engaging to my heart as a frozen icicled craggy way angered over by strong winds that never take the iron trumpets from their lips.
April in Paris, chestnuts in blossom, holiday tables under the trees.
Winter's notion of poetry is tragedy. It knows nothing of comedy. Its laughter was frozen on its lips long ago.