Winter is the time for comfort, for good food and warmth, for the touch of a friendly hand and for a talk beside the fire: it is the time for home.
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.
Winter must be cold for those with no warm memories.
In seed time learn, in harvest teach, in winter enjoy.
Let us love winter, for it is the spring of genius.
Spring, summer, and fall fill us with hope; winter alone reminds us of the human condition.
If we had no winter, the spring would not be so pleasant.
I prefer winter and fall, when you feel the bone structure of the landscape. Something waits beneath it; the whole story doesn't show.
In a way Winter is the real Spring - the time when the inner things happen, the resurgence of nature.
It snowed and snowed, the whole world over, Snow swept the world from end to end. A candle burned on the table; A candle burned.
People don't notice whether it's winter or summer when they're happy.
No winter lasts forever; no spring skips its turn.
I like these cold, gray winter days. Days like these let you savor a bad mood.
But see, Orion sheds unwholesome dews; Arise, the pines a noxious shade diffuse; Sharp Boreas blows, and nature feels decay, Time conquers all, and we must time obey.
The restaurants close here in Salzburg. They don't really have a nightlife in the winter time.
Like the seeds dreaming beneath the snow your heart dreams of spring.
Winter blues are cured every time with a potato gratin paired with a roast chicken.
Never are voices so beautiful as on a winter's evening, when dusk almost hides the body, and they seem to issue from nothingness with a note of intimacy seldom heard by day.
Spring is nature's way of saying, 'Let's party!'
What is life? It is the flash of a firefly in the night. It is the breath of a buffalo in the winter time. It is the little shadow which runs across the grass and loses itself in the Sunset.
"Hear! hear!" screamed the jay from a neighboring tree, where I had heard a tittering for some time, "winter has a concentrated and nutty kernel, if you know where to look for it."
Blow, blow, thou winter wind Thou art not so unkind, As man's ingratitude.
Only in the winter, in the country, can you have longer quiet stretches when you can savor belonging to yourself.
Laughter is the sun that drives winter from the human face.
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.
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