No winter lasts forever; no spring skips its turn.
Blow, blow, thou winter wind Thou art not so unkind, As man's ingratitude.
Winter is the time of promise because there is so little to do - or because you can now and then permit yourself the luxury of thinking so.
It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold: when it is summer in the light, and winter in the shade.
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.
There is no such thing as bad weather, only different kinds of good weather.
Spring, summer, and fall fill us with hope; winter alone reminds us of the human condition.
I prefer winter and fall, when you feel the bone structure of the landscape. Something waits beneath it; the whole story doesn't show.
O, wind, if winter comes, can spring be far behind?
Melancholy were the sounds on a winter's night.
Let us love winter, for it is the spring of genius.
The heart can get really cold if all you've known is winter.
I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter.
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