All Quotes By Tag: Winter

“In the deep-freezing winter, let us sing heart touching songs of love to invite the blooming spring and amazing summer. Wishing you a warm-loving winter morning!”

“She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, a tiny, bloody angel in the snow, and they were going to destroy her.”

“I’m pretty lost in becoming all this frost. Bitter, like Winter. Strung-out like a string of pearls.”

“I was free with every road as my home. No limitations and no commitments. But then summer passed and winter came and I fell short for safety. I fell for its spell, slowly humming me to sleep, because I was tired and small, too weak to take or handle those opinions and views, attacking me from every angle. Against my art, against my self, against my very way of living. I collected my thoughts, my few possessions and built isolated walls around my values and character. I protected my own definition of beauty and success like a treasure at the bottom of the sea, for no one saw what I saw, or felt the same as I did, and so I wanted to keep to myself. You hide to protect yourself.”

“أعرفُ أنني عندما أقع في الحبسيكون الفصل شتاءًاوستسري في جسدي قشعريرةفلن أدري أسببها البردأم كوني معك؟”

“There was a filmy veil of soft dull mist obscuring, but not hiding, all objects, giving them a lilac hue, for the sun had not yet fully set; a robin was singing … The leaves were more gorgeous than ever; the first touch of frost would lay them all low to the ground. Already one or two kept constantly floating down, amber and golden in the low slanting sun-rays.”

“But only a person in the depths of despair neglected to look beyond winter to the spring that inevitably followed, bringing back color and life and hope.”

“To say goodbye, is to die a little.To say good morning, is a hope for a new sunshine in a cloudy winter.”

“It is growing cold. Winter is putting footsteps in the meadow. What whiteness boasts that sun that comes into this wood! One would say milk-colored maidens are dancing on the petals of orchids. How coldly burns our sun! One would say its rays of light are shards of snow, one imagines the sun lives upon a snow crested peak on this day. One would say she is a woman who wears a gown of winter frost that blinds the eyes. Helplessness has weakened me. Wandering has wearied my legs.”

“The season was waning fastOur nights were growing cold at lastI took her to bed with silk and song,’Lay still, my love, I won’t be long;I must prepare my body for passion.”O, your body you give, but all else you ration.”It is because of these dreams of a sylvan scene:A bleeding nymph to leave me serene…I have dreams of a trembling wench.”You have dreams,’ she said, ‘that cannot be quenched.”Our passion,’ said I, ‘should never be feared;As our longing for love can never be cured.Our want is our way and our way is our will,We have the love, my love, that no one can kill.”If night is your love, then in dreams you’ll fulfill…This love, our love, that no one can kill.’Yet want is my way, and my way is my will,Thus I killed my love with a sleeping pill.”

“Winter is much like unrequited love; cold and merciless.”

“That’s what winter is: an exercise in remembering how to still yourself then how to come pliantly back to life again.”

“Thank goodness for the first snow, it was a reminder–no matter how old you became and how much you’d seen, things could still be new if you were willing to believe they still mattered.”

“That time of year thou mayst in me beholdWhen yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hangUpon those boughs which shake against the cold,Bare ruin’d choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.In me thou seest the twilight of such dayAs after sunset fadeth in the west,Which by and by black night doth take away,Death’s second self, that seals up all in rest.In me thou see’st the glowing of such fireThat on the ashes of his youth doth lie,As the death-bed whereon it must expireConsumed with that which it was nourish’d by.This thou perceivest, which makes thy love more strong,To love that well which thou must leave ere long.”

“If winter comes, can spring be far behind?”