Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Wintertime. 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 Wintertime Quotes And Sayings by 86 Authors including Pietro Aretino,Shirley Jackson,William Alfred Quayle,Daniel Arsand,Horace for you to enjoy and share.
Let us love winter, for it is the spring of genius.
February, when the days of winter seem endless and no amount of wistful recollecting can bring back any air of summer.
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.
Winter, then spring, summer, and soon autumn. All seasons are one, ice-cold, featureless, a hell of dreariness.
Dull winter will re-appear.
It's so hard to think in winter. The world seems confined in the space of your heart; you can't see beyond yourself.
Winter is not a season, it's an occupation.
January brings the snow, makes our feet and fingers glow.
You can't get too much winter in the winter.
Other seasons come abruptly but ask so little when they do. Winter is the only one that has to be relearned.
January is the despairing heart of the Scottish winter
The Winter Solstice is the time of ending and beginning, a powerful time
a time to contemplate your immortality. A time to forgive, to be forgiven, and to make a fresh start. A time to awaken.
When great leaves fall, the winter is at hand.
Fall was slipping quietly into winter
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.
Summer is for surrendering; winter is for wondering.
Summer seems so cold without you, winter is even colder.
The Winter solstice (you haven't lived if you haven't seen us running around in our skivvies, banging on pots and pans, shouting "Come back, sun! Goddammit, come back! Come back!
The winter drew on - a season as different from the summer in those northern latitudes, as if it belonged to another solar system. Cold and stormy, it is yet full of delight for all beings that can either romp, sleep, or think it through.
Through the chill of December the early winter moans ... but it's that January wind that rattles old bones.
If winter were a person, I would kill them. I would go to jail for sunshine, birds singing and the smell of fresh cut grass hmm fresh cut grass.
Winter makes me want to rage.
But where are the snows of yester year?
The thing one resents about winter is its inactivity; the perpetual sameness of ice-armored hills and snow-blanketed woods. Great things, of course, may be going on underneath; but nature wears a mask, is icily non-committal.
The day wears on. The light fades. It snows harder with each passing hour. Up and down Main, Christmas lights wink on.
Oh, how magical it will be to have winter come every year.
All month the ice muttered and howled and whistled. The trees echoed back and forth among themselves. Taken collectively, the sound was of deep wounding, of winter inexorably taking the life out of things.
On a lone winter evening, when the frost Has wrought a silence.
Winter is the season of alcoholism and despair.
In the winter you may want the summer; in the summer, you may want the autumn; in the autumn, you may want the winter; but only in the spring you dream and want no other season but the spring!
The time will come when Winter will ask you what you were doing all Summer.
year-round. When
This is a terrible hour, but it is often that darkest point which precedes the rise of day; that turn of the year when the icy January wind carries over the waste at once the dirge of departing winter, and the prophecy of coming spring.
Now winter downs the dying of the year,
And night is all a settlement of snow;
From the soft street the rooms of houses show
A gathered light, a shapen atmosphere,
Like frozen-over lakes whose ice is thin
And still allows some stirring down within.
The English winter - ending in July to recommence in August
I have always hated the emptiness that winter brings, the blank landscape and the stark difference between sky and ground, the way it transforms trees into skeletons and the city into a wasteland. Maybe this winter I can be persuaded otherwise.
At this season of the year, darkness is a more insistent thing than cold. The days are short as any dream.
You must go through a winter to understand.
Spring, the snow must go; fall, the leaves can't stay.
In November you begin to know how long the winter will be.
November and the sun grows sparse in the sky.
December drops no weak, relenting tear, By our fond summer sympathies ensnared; Nor from the perfect circle of the year Can even winter's crystal gems be spared.
Is this a mild winter or a harsh winter?
Winter changes into stone the water of heaven and the heart of man.
Winter is on my head, but eternal spring is in my heart.
Pitch-black winter nights live in my bones.
It's a cruel season that makes you get ready for bed while it's light out.
When I was a kid, my favourite time of the year when I was child was that magical first snowfall. I'd yell Yippee! Snow! and run up to the front door and shout You know the deal ... You have to let me in now.
Winter in Maine is a time of alternating rest and frenzied activity.
Winter changes the water of heaven and the heart of man into a stone.
Every year, the bright Scandinavian summer nights fade without anyone's noticing. One evening in August you have an errand outdoors, and all of a sudden it's pitch-black. It is still summer, but the summer is no longer alive.
You never like it to happen, for something as hopeful and sudden as a January thaw to come to an end, but end it does, and then you want to have some quilts around.
MIDWINTER IS THE DREARIEST of the year. Days are short, nights are long, and both are cold and wet with no immediate prospect of relief. Winter's Tail is what the old wives call it, dragging filth at winter's ass.
There are moments in the middle of winter when all seems lost, and the darkness presses in like death, and everthing is cold, and I wake in the night shivering, and relive all I went through then.
When winter first begins to bite and stones crack in the frosty night, when pools are black and trees are bare, 'tis evil in the Wild to fare.
There is a wilder solitude in winter When every sense is pricked alive and keen.
Winter makes us know the warmth of a fire.
Our seasons have no fixed returns, Without our will they come and go; At noon our sudden summer burns, Ere sunset all is snow.
Ah, woe is me! Winter is come and gone. But grief returns with the revolving year.
I am a winter person, never happier than on a clear, frosty morning.
the winter always bears away with it a portion of our sadness;
Next up, The Winds of Winter. Wherein, I hope, everybody will be shivering together once again. ... - George R. R. Martin April 2011
In your winter you deny your spring,
So the year passes into many yesterdays, and winter comes again.
The year's in wane; There is nothing adorning; The night has no eve, And the day has no morning; Cold winter gives warning!
Winter is the time for comfort - it is the time for home.
February dawn
frost on the path Where I paced all winter.
I love winter. The bugs are dead, and the people are indoors.
Day after day, throughout the winter,
We hardened ourselves to live by bluest reason
In a world of wind and frost ...
The winter does what it can for its children.
When the snow is still blowing against the window-pane in January and February and the wild winds are howling without, what pleasure it is to plan for summer that is to be.
It's always almost Autumn, down here at Rock Bottom.
The dead season when wolves live off the wind.
Yesterday, all this was snow. Always winter, and never Christmas.
The leaves hop, scraping on the ground. It is deep January. The sky is hard. The stalks are firmly rooted in ice. It is in this solitude, a syllable, Out of these gawky flitterings, Intones its single emptiness, The savagest hollow of winter-sound.
When the winter comes, the summer shines infinitely in our hearts!
While I relish our warm months, winter forms our character and brings out our best.
Autumn, in his leafless bowers, is waiting for the winter's snow.
Winter is the reason for the spring; he who loves the spring must also love its reason!
The winter will be long and bleak. Nature has a dismal aspect.
Winter. It made things visible.
Nature awakens in brilliant colors of autumn, making me wish winter would bid adieu.
Cold. Winter's still got its teeth in us." "Thanks. I know it's
Winter. It made things visible. But
The year is round! The wheel of the world must spin! That is why up here they dance the Dark Morris, to balance it. They welcome the winter because of the new summer deep inside it!
They will pass the winter in this desultory fashion. The
If you allow coldness to engulf you before winter, season is helpless to help you.
Where has thou been all the dumb winter days When neither sunlight was nor smile of flowers, Neither life, nor love, nor frolic, Only expanse melancholic, With never a note of thy exhilarating lays?
And winter was coming.
Night, which in Autumn seems to fall from the sky so suddenly, chilled us...
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
Goodness, Time's rude hand defies,
And winter lives when beauty dies.
All human life has its seasons and cycles, and no one's personal chaos can be permanent. Winter, after all, gives way to spring and summer, though sometimes when branches stay dark and the earth cracks with ice, one thinks they will never come, that spring, and that summer, but they do, and always.
In winter we lead a more inward life. Our hearts are warm and cheery, like cottages under drifts ...
There is a season for everything under the sun - even when we can't see the sun.
Winter is sitting; autumn is walking; summer is running, but the Spring is flying!
Up in the hills we say that autumn kisses you, but winter fucks you hard.
Summer is the time for squabbles. In winter, we must protect one another, keep each other warm, share our strengths.
Honest Winter, snow-clad, and with the frosted beard, I can welcome not uncordially; But that long deferment of the calendar's promise, that weeping gloom of March and April, that bitter blast outraging the honour of May how often has it robbed me of heart and hope?
Christmas; magnificent snowflakes snowing in your hope.