quotations about winter
The biggest problem with Winter is that it's always yanking our chain. "Welp, I'm out of here," says Winter one late February day. "I won't see you again until after autumn." But Winter is a dirty, rotten liar. After leading us to believe that it's finally gone for good, it roars back into our lives on a hurricane of icy whiteness. Winter is the sleazy pal who you let crash on your couch for "just one night." Now he won't leave despite such broad hints as you slapping a For Sale sign on the couch and dragging it out to the curb.
JERRY NELSON, "Late winter isn't always a dangerous time", Watertown Public Opinion, February 19, 2016
If we had no winter, the spring would not be so pleasant: if we did not sometimes taste of adversity, prosperity would not be so welcome.
ANNE BRADSTREET, Meditations Divine and Moral
I'm laying out my winter clothes and wishing I was gone,
Going home, where the New York city winters aren't bleedin' me.
PAUL SIMON, "The Boxer"
From travelling the vast white landscapes of Skyrim, to the long mournful melodies of Tchaikovsky's 1st symphony, it is obvious that winter has inspired creativity from within. Even without ever experiencing it for myself, everything from lines in Game of Thrones like "Winter is coming" to quests to end the eternal winter in Frozen have made it clear that winter is a time of difficulty, hibernation, and sorrow. It might be something we take for granted but for aeons we have known that winter is a time of survival, a relentless force of nature that pushes us to keep ourselves alive and reminds our species of its fragility. Something about the cold instills melancholiness, fear, and a sense of insignificance which I understood even without ever living in a place where it can get unbearably cold. My fascination stems from an attempt to put a face to the artistic persona of winter that we have all encountered in varying forms.
PAVAN KALIDINDI, "Winter: an outsider's experience", Swarthmore Phoenix, February 11, 2016
The snow did not even whisper its way to earth, but seemed to salt the night with silence.
DEAN KOONTZ, Brother Odd
The gaunt limbs, and stark, rigid, death-like whiteness of winter.
BRET HARTE, "Views from a German Spion"
A cold wind was blowing from the north, and it made the trees rustle like living things.
GEORGE R. R. MARTIN, A Game of Thrones
If this were a rooftop
covered with snow,
of a poem.
WILLIAM MICHAELIAN, "Winter View", Winter Poems
Nothing burns like the cold.
GEORGE R. R. MARTIN, A Game of Thrones
Winter likes to pretend it's gone, tricking the daffodils into poking their little heads out of the soil, then wam! Winter comes back again like a giant, felt-wrapped hammer, whapping anything green back into submission. It's nature's version of whack-a-mole.
MIKE TODD, "Just Humor Me: The Winter is our discontent", The Montgomery Review, April 4, 2017
Winter is brutal, dark, cold, we fall into the slough of despond, and now this year, as a bonus, a flu virus is going around that causes vomiting, low self-esteem and what your grandpa called "the trots." In fact, I have a case of it right now, and I apologize if I must suddenly jump up and run to what your grandpa may have called "the biffy."
GARRISON KEILLOR, "If adversity is good for us, we'll be great", Alaska Dispatch News, April 10, 2017
Do you remember the winter days
When we piled up the leaves and made them blaze,
While the blue smoke curled, in the frosty air,
Up the great wan trunks that rose gaunt and bare,
And we clapped our hands, and the rotten bough
Came crackling down to our feet, as now?
ALFRED AUSTIN, "The Last Night", At the Gate of the Convent and Other Poems
What good is the warmth of summer, without the cold of winter to give it sweetness.
JOHN STEINBECK, Travels with Charley: In Search of America
Winter is not a season in the North Middlewest; it is an industry.
SINCLAIR LEWIS, Main Street
When winter twilight falls on my street with the rain, a sense of the horrible sadness of life descends upon me. I think of drunken old women who drown themselves because nobody loves them; I think of Napoleon at St. Helena, and of Byron growing morose and fat in the enervating climate of Italy.
LOGAN PEARSALL SMITH, Trivia
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?
ALFRED AUSTIN, "A Spring Carol", Soliloquies in Song
I wonder if the snow loves the trees and fields, that it kisses them so gently? And then it covers them up snug, you know, with a white quilt; and perhaps it says "Go to sleep, darlings, till the summer comes again."
LEWIS CARROLL, Through the Looking Glass and What Alice Found There
Every winter has its spring.
H. TUTTLE, attributed, Day's Collacon
Many of the phenomena of Winter are suggestive of an inexpressible tenderness and fragile delicacy. We are accustomed to hear this king described as a rude and boisterous tyrant; but with the gentleness of a lover he adorns the tresses of Summer.
HENRY DAVID THOREAU, Walden
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.
WILLIAM A. QUAYLE, "Headed Into Spring", The Sanctuary, March 17, 1921