Kindness is like snow-it beautifies everything it covers.
A cold wind was blowing from the north, and it made the trees rustle like living things.
Snow always inspires such awe in me. Just consider one tiny snowflake alone, so delicate, so fragile, so ethereal. And yet, let a billion of them come together through the majestic force of nature, they can screw up a whole city.
Silently, like thoughts that come and go, the snowflakes fall, each one a gem.
When I no longer thrill to the first snow of the season, I'll know I'm growing old.
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.
Life is like walking through snow: every step shows.
The first fall of snow is not only an event, it is a magical event. You go to bed in one kind of a world and wake up in another quite different, and if this is not enchantment then where is it to be found?
I used to be Snow White, but I drifted.
Learn how to read the love letters sent by the wind and rain, the snow and moon.
The snow doesn't give a soft white damn whom it touches.
Advice is like snow--the softer it falls, the deeper it goes.
What good is the warmth of summer, without the cold of winter to give it sweetness.
I am younger each year at the first snow.
Snow makes cities innocent again, reveals the frailty of the human gesture against the void.
The very fact of snow is such an amazement.
Snow was falling, so much like stars filling the dak trees that one could easily imagine its reason for being was nothing more the prettiness.
Sunshine is delicious, rain is refreshing, wind braces us up, snow is exhilarating; there is really no such thing as bad weather, only different kinds of good weather.
A lot of people like snow. I find it to be an unnecessary freezing of water.
Snow provokes responses that reach right back to childhood.
It's easy to love the snow because at the end of every snowstorm it's as if the world has started over. There is no dirt, no footprints, just a layer of seamless, indiscriminate nature connecting everything to everything else. Isn't that the amazing thing about the natural world? You can tear it down, you can drill holes in it, you can ignore its power with all your might, but one morning you wake up and it has selflessly given despite all of our abuse. I think I'll make a snowman.
Whose woods these are I think I know. His house is in the village though; He will not see me stopping here To watch his woods fill up with snow.
In the bleak midwinter Frosty wind made moan, Earth stood hard as iron, Water like a stone; Snow had fallen, Snow on snow, Snow on snow, In the bleak midwinter, Long ago.
Out of the bosom of the Air, Out of the cloud-folds of her garments shaken, Over the woodlands brown and bare, Over the harvest-fields forsaken, Silent, and soft, and slow Descends the snow.
Like the seeds dreaming beneath the snow your heart dreams of spring.
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