Quotes & Sayings About Enough Snow

And then the years were gone, and he was back at Winterfell once more, wearing a quilted leather coat in place of mail and plate. His sword was not made of wood, and it was Robb who stood facing him, not Iron Emmett.
Every morning they had trailed together, since they were big enough to walk; Snow and Stark, spinning and slashing about the wards of Winterfell, shouting and laughing, sometimes crying when there was no one else to see. They were not little boys when they fought, but knights and mighty heroes. "I'm Prince Aemon the Dragonknight," Jon would call out, and Robb would shout back, "Well, I'm Florian the Fool." Or Robb would say, "I'm the Young Dragon," and Jon would reply, "I'm Ser Ryam Redwyne."
That morning he called it first. "I'm Lord of Winterfell!" he cried, as he had a hundred times before. Only this time, this time, Robb had answered, "You can't be Lord of Winterfell, you're bastard-born. My lady mother says you can't ever be the Lord of Winterfell. — George R R Martin

Snow harder! Snow more!
Snow blizzards galore!
I can't get enough
Of the fluffy white stuff!
Snow! Snow! Snow!
Snow a ton! Snow a heap!
Snow ten feet deep!
I wouldn't cry
If it snowed til July.
Snow! Snow! Snow! — Paul F. Kortepeter

I thought about him trying not to laugh at the 'Molahonkey Song' on a night when the snow drifted gold past the window. I thought about the warm skin and soft hair and hands of someone living, someone who was far cleverer and funnier than I would ever be and who still couldn't see a better future than to obliterate himself. And finally, my head pressed into the pillow, I cried, because my life suddenly seemed so much darker and more complicated than I could ever have imagined, and I wished I could go back, back to when my biggest worry was whether Frank and I had ordered in enough Chelsea buns. — Jojo Moyes

Draco's like... snow," said Hermione quietly, her gaze absent and distracted. "It's cold and cruel to begin with, but it's somehow beautiful, and you miss it when it's not there. And if you hold it in your hands close enough and long enough, it changes. It melts. — Bex-chan

(fairy tale).
i wanna tell you a joke
but it will be like the frog finds the princess
says she's not enough
then jumps out of window
i wanna show you
a bit of snow on fingertips
so it will speak why the beauty is not for the ugly
and dwarves cannot run after white horse
i wanna tell you
how much a kiss costs
that sways both lives away
so that you may
remain us.
but you see, fairy tales start with curses
and so do we. — Zelda Gin

Not one in twenty was ever rich enough to own a real sword." His look was grim. "So how do you like the taste of your victories now, Lord Snow? — George R R Martin

With daylight (it was exactly a week since he last dressed for the office) he found himself passing through farmland over which a light snow had fallen ahead of him, softening, smoothing some of the rudeness, but not enough to hide the truth that nothing was planted. — Douglas Woolf

He ducked down under the wooden slats used to separate the stalls in the barn and crawled into the adjacent stall where he began rubbing the belly of the chestnut mare.
"Lay down, Lady. Please ... it's awful cold tonight. Please lay down."
The mare complied as she always did to the soothing tone in his voice. Drawing the blanket up tightly around him, he lay down beside the horse, moving in close to her side. He was careful to place his frozen feet near enough to her for warmth, but not so near that she'd protest.
"They had a real purty tree, Lady, with candles. Bet it didn't look as purty from the inside, though. Weren't no snow on the inside."
He snuggled in closer to the warm beast. "Merry Christmas, Lady," he whispered.
The mare nickered and moved her head in closer to the boy as he drifted off to sleep, the scent of hay and livestock surrounding them. — Lorraine Heath

The AM were wicked bright and us a bit sick however we scored our wake ups boosting some items at a sidewalk sale in the Harvard Squar where it were warm upping and the snow coming off onnings and then later Poor Tony ran across an old Patty citizen type of his old aquaintance from like the Cape and Poor Tony got over and pretended like he would give a blow job On The House and we got the citizen to get in his ride with us and crewed on him good and we got enough $ off the Patty type to get straightened out for true all day and crewed on him hard and C wanted we should elemonade the Patty's map for keeps and everything like that and take his ride to this — David Foster Wallace

If you are a kind person and love animals, you may be lucky enough to find the Magic Valley. There you will discover a land where snow leopards play and mountains smile. I should tell you, though, that it will be a very hard journey. But I should also tell you that it is well worth the effort. — Helen Freeman

If I had a statue on a column in London, would I prefer the columns to be so high that the statue was invisible, or low enough for the features to be recognizable? I would choose the first alternative, Dr Snow, presumably, the second. — G.H. Hardy

And on a personal level,my boyfriend and I love eachother enough,and we have enough respect for each other, that we're bigger than that."
I laughed."Nick and I are not bigger than that.We are very,very small."
Daisy nodded. "And then,of course, there's the fact that I'm prettier than my boyfriend. He may fly higher,but I look better doing it." She turned around backward. "I mean, even in these snow pants,check out my ass. — Jennifer Echols

Let me guess - you're Grumpy?'
He let out a humpf. ' And you would be too, if you'd just spent the last hour searching the forest for your wayward charge.' He walked even faster. 'We tell you to stay inside, we tell you not to talk to strangers. But oh no, you must be out singing to the animals as if the birds didn't do a fine enough job of it. And this after Queen Neferia has already tried to kill you thrice. [ ... ] Which is why you are not to go shopping anymore, no matter how pretty the wares, remember?'
Oh, right.'
[ ... ] when you looked at it that way, Snow White had to be pretty idiotic to keep falling for the same trick. — Janette Rallison

Be careful you don't cut yourself. The edges are sharp enough to shave with.'
'Girls don't shave', Arya said.
'Maybe they should. Have you ever seen the septa's legs? — George R R Martin

Faye closes the inch between us. "Snow angels are vastly overrated," she says. "And you could never be just a number." I'm close enough to smell her lip gloss, something fruity and sweet. My heart slams against my ribs. She's going to kiss me, right here in the bathroom. I was right. I wasn't making it all up in my head. She likes me. She wants me. — Laurie Elizabeth Flynn

The Northwestern Carpathians, in which I was raised, were a hard place, as unforgiving as the people who lived there, but the Alpine landscape into which Zlee and I were sent that early winter seemed a glimpse of what the surface of the earth looked and felt and acted like when there were no maps or borders, no rifles or artillery, no men or wars to claim possession of land, and snow and rock alone parried in a match of millennial slowness so that time meant nothing, and death meant nothing, for what life there was gave in to the forces of nature surrounding and accepted its fate to play what role was handed down in the sidereal march of seasons capable of crushing in an instant what armies might--millennia later--be foolish enough to assemble on it heights.

And yet there we were, ordered to march ourselves, for God, not nature, was with us now, and God would deliver us, in this world and next, when the time came for that. — Andrew Krivak

Is this how you act toward your honored guest? You must take him out onto the street and walk him around a bit to wake him up. The cold will do him good."
"He's lying in the snow. Isn't that cold enough? — Arthur Golden

Rain is the last thing you want when you're chasing someone in Miami. They drive shitty enough as it is, but on top of that, snow is a foreign concept, which means they never got the crash course in traction judgment for when pavement slickness turns less than ideal. And because of the land-sea temperature differential, Florida has regular afternoon rain showers. Nothing big, over in a jiff. But minutes later, all major intersections in Miami-Dade are clogged with debris from spectacular smash-ups. In Northern states, snow teaches drivers real fast about the Newtonian physics of large moving objects. I haven't seen snow either, but I drink coffee, so the calculus of tire-grip ratio is intuitive to my body. — Tim Dorsey

My husband was in the war of the Crimea. It is terrible the hardships he went through, to be two months without going into a house, under the snow in trenches. And no food to get, maybe a biscuit in the day. And there was enough food there, he said, to feed all Ireland; but bad management, they could not get it. — Lady Gregory

The thing that helped me come to terms with performing was an anxiety, a desperation for acceptance. There was never enough positive motivation in my life. — Phoebe Snow

Then I noticed his rising blush, and I realized something.
Tobin and Angie ... their togetherness was new. New enough that being touched by her still came as a
glorious, blush-worthy surprise. — Maureen Johnson

when they first met. It was just past the end of the third month of training, the midpoint, before they were interrupted again. Spring should have come, but this far north, and in the Low Lands in particular, the only indication of this was a sprinkle of rain mixing with the snow occasionally. Such a storm was passing through toward the end of the daily training session in the tower when a commotion could be heard in the main room down stairs. The sound alone was enough to put Myn on guard. — Joseph R. Lallo

I knew that my hair was falling out and I had really weird skin. My face looked really weird and I was getting this fuzz on my face and I was always cold - always to the point of uncontrollably shaking. I was more scared that 85 lbs. wasn't good enough. I wanted to be lower. — Brittany Snow

Enough, Snow, I'm not the Queen. — Rainbow Rowell

There were days when Earth's small glories were luminous enough to dim church icons to duller golds. Diving from the roof into fresh snow. Throwing dishes from the window after Mother's funeral. I have been blessed. — Anthony Marra

Loneliness came over him, like an avalanche of snow. He was alone. Where he had always wanted to be. You can only trust yourself. There's a rat buried deep in everybody and they'll rat on you if they get pushed far enough. — William Lindsay Gresham

In real life, Snow White stays dead and Rapunzel grows old, alone in her tower. In real life, you gotta have enough sense to stay away from ugly bitches offering you shiny apples and have enough balls to cut off your own hair and use it as a ladder if needs be. In real life, you gotta save yourself and the only happy endings are the ones paid for in massage parlors. — Amy Sumida

We've been a free people living under the law, with faith in our Maker and in our future. I've said before that the most sublime picture in American history is of George Washington on his knees in the snow at Valley Forge. That image personifies a people who know that it's not enough to depend on our own courage and goodness; we must also seek help from God, our Father and Preserver. — Ronald Reagan

She dared to cry? On this day of all days? I was the one who would be married at sunset, and I hadn't let myself cry in five years.
There was ice in my lungs and in my heart. I was floating. I was swept away, and out of the cold I spoke to her in a voice as soft as snow, the gentle and obedient voice I had used to consent to every order that Father and Aunt Telomache ever gave me, every order that they would never give Astraia because they actually loved her.
"You know, that Rhyme is a lie that Aunt Telomache only told you because you weren't strong enough to bear the truth."
I had thought the words so often, they felt like nothing in my mouth, like no more than a breath of air, and as easily as breathing I went on.
"The truth is, Mother died because of you, and now I have to die for your sake, too. And neither one of us will ever forgive you."
Then I shoved her aside and strode out of the room. — Rosamund Hodge

If you should ever be blessed to be far enough from the cacophony of civilization when a heavy snow falls, you can even hear the very music of the iced dew's delicate descent. It is the repainting of a landscape in a thousand hues of white. It is the dance of the wind. — R.C. Sproul Jr.

The rest of the year, I wondered if the point of Christmas was just spending money and getting fat and opening gifts. Indulging.
But when Christmas finally comes, and that warm, tingly, mints-and-sweaters-and-fireplace-fires feeling gathers in the bottom of your stomach, and you're lying on the floor with all the lights off but the ones on the Christmas tree, and listening to the silence of the snow falling outside, you see the point. For that one instance in time, everything is good in the world. It doesn't matter if everything isn't actually good. It's the one time of the year when pretending is enough. — Francesca Zappia

Not to open the hunting season on the pretext that there is no game would be as if one gave up celebrating Christmas because there was not enough snow to go by sleigh to midnight Mass. — Maurice Grimaud

These marvels were great and comfortable ones, but in the old England there was a greater still. The weather behaved itself.
In the spring all the little flowers came out obediently in the meads, and the dew sparkled, and the birds sang; in the summer it was beautifully hot for no less than four months, and, if it did rain just enough for agricultural purposes, they managed to arrange it so that it rained while you were in bed; in the autumn the leaves flamed and rattled before the west winds, tempering their sad adieu with glory; and in the winter, which was confined by statute to two months, the snow lay evenly, three feet thick, but never turned into slush. — T.H. White

The snow wasn't deep - in many places its crust was firm enough that they actually walked on top of it - but the wind was surgical, a precision instrument with needles for teeth, and it found even the tiniest exposed places on her skin, attacking them. — Joe Schreiber

The most precious item travelling the route was silk, which was generated in Serica and packed on caravans in ever-increasing amounts destined for settlements far away - including the capital of the Romans. The silk-laden caravans were nothing new to the old guide; they had been journeying for hundreds of years across watersheds and snow-clad mountain passes of the Zagros and down past his residence. The caravans transporting silk into the Parthian regions in the form of annual tributes or trade were considered "untouchable," and the repercussions would be murderous due to silk being one of Parthia's main currencies. Silk was a commodity that knew no recession and held a value high enough that it could be traded for nearly anything. Crassus's motivation to conquer Parthia was accordingly revealed: he wanted a monopoly on the Road of Silk! — Jono Zago

That's the way it is with God, don't you reckon? He always around somewheres, if you can see His face or not. He's out there watching through the dark. Sometimes that's got to be enough, I suppose. Knowing He sees us even if we can't see Him back." -- Levi Snow — Jonathan Odell

I know I'm the one who put limits on this ... this thing," she said, and bit her lower lip, suddenly nervous. "But I'm pretty sure we're not quite done with each other."
He looked at her for what felt like a long time. "You want another night."
Still unable to take her eyes off his mouth, she didn't muzzle herself. "I want as long as it takes."
He cupped her jaw, lifting her head up so that she was looking into his eyes again. "Don't make promises you can't keep."
"What makes you think I can't keep it?"
"Because you seem to like things one night at a time," he said in that low, sexy voice. "But no way is one more night going to be enough. — Jill Shalvis

It was bad enough that he couldn't seem to get the image of her out of his mind, He didn't need to add et skin and a barely there towel to the gallery. — Tiffany Snow

It is possible with enough time and imagination to break your own heart. — Danielle Paige

I welcome the blizzard, with its ferocious winds and deep, drifting snow. This may be enough to keep the real wolves, also known as the Peacekeepers, from my door. A few days to think. To work out a plan. With Gale and Peeta and Haymitch all at hand. This blizzard is a gift. — Suzanne Collins

Little girls are taught fairy tales that are filled with magic. Cinderella is taught to wait in the kitchen for a guy with the right shoe! Snow White is given the message that if she waits long enough, her prince will come. On a literal level, that story tells women that their destiny depends on waiting for a necrophile (someone who likes to kiss dead people) to stumble through the woods at the right time. Not a pretty picture! — John Bradshaw

I think the stigma surrounding mental illness and also the stigma surrounding self-esteem issues or insecurities or just even feeling different is something that doesn't really get enough attention. Everybody struggles with feeling alone or that they are going through something they don't quite understand. — Brittany Snow

Do you think I'm too Westernized?" I asked Leila as we walked back home from the library.
"What do you mean?"
"This guy, Sufyan, says I'm too Westernized."
"The American guy? You're letting an American guy tell you whether you're Arab enough?"
"He's originally Arab - " I began.
"Oh please. Arab Americans are even worse than white people. They look at you like they know you, as if they have an idea of what you're like from stereotypes and their parents' ancient memories. And when you don't conform to their image it terrifies them, because they wear their Arab culture like window dressing but underneath they are as white as snow. — Saleem Haddad

Glossie looked around at the houses. The snow was quite deep in that village, and just before them was a roof only a few feet above the sledge. A broad chimney, which seemed to Glossie big enough to admit Claus, was at the peak of the roof. "Why don't you climb down that chimney?" asked Glossie. Claus looked at it. "That would be easy enough if I were on top of the roof," he answered. "Then hold fast and we will take you there," said the deer, and they gave one bound to the roof and landed beside the big chimney. "Good!" cried Claus, well pleased, and he slung the pack of toys over his shoulder and got into the chimney. — L. Frank Baum

Out of the woman's great brown breast the milk gushed forth for the child, milk as white as snow, and when the child suckled at the one breast it flowed like a fountain from the other, ans she let it flow. There was more than enough for the child, greedy though he was, life enough for many children, and she let it flow out carelessly, conscious of her abundance. There was always more. Sometimes she lifted her breast and let it flow out upon the ground to save her clothing, and it sank into the earth and made a soft, dark, rich spot in the field. The child fat and good-natured and ate of the inexhaustible life his mother gave him. — Pearl S. Buck

Whether through the patterns left in snow, or geese honking in the dark, or through the brilliant wet leaf that hits your face the moment you are questioning your worth, the quiet teachers are everywhere, pointing us to the unlived portion of our lives. When we think we are in charge, the lessons dissolve as accidents or coincidence. But when we're humble enough to welcome the connections, the glass that breaks across the room is offering us direction, giving us a clue to the story we are in. — Mark Nepo

We will enjoy ourselves with the forms that are given us: a human face, a hand, the breast of a woman or the body of a man, a glad or sorrowful expression, the infinite seas, the wild rocks, the melancholy language of the black trees in the snow, the wild strength of spring flowers and the heavy lethargy of a hot summer day when Pan, our old friend, sleeps and the ghosts of midday whisper. This alone is enough to make us forget the grief of the world, or to give it form. — Max Beckmann

Those three words, are said too much, and not enough — Snow Patrol

After many missions in a plethora of peculiar realms, he'd managed to keep the fear of monsters locked away, but his own evil terrified him more than any demon.
Snow fell hard, bodies fell harder.
The snow was blue here, a shade lighter than the crystalline trees surrounding them. They were in the ice jungle of Eltika, where the undergrowth was littered with a thousand ice shards and the tree vines emitted vapour cold enough to cause frostbite.
Arantay took time to survey the battle before his next opponent. — Will Collins

There was nothing unique about my beech tree, nothing difficult in its ascent, no biological revelation at its summit, nor any honey, but it had become a place to think. A roost. I was fond of it, and it
well, it had no notion of me. I had climbed it many times; at first light, dusk, and glaring noon. I had climbed it in winter, brushing snow from the branches of my hand, with the wood cold as stone to the touch, and real crows' nests black in the branches of nearby trees. I had climbed in in early summer, and looked out over the countryside with heat jellying the air and the drowsy buzz of a tractor from somewhere nearby. And I had climbed it in monsoon rain, with water falling in rods thick enough for the eye to see. Climbing the tree was a way to get perspective, however slight; to look down on a city that I usually looked across. The relief of relief. Above all, it was a way of defraying the city's claims on me. — Robert Macfarlane

Can anything compare to the sight of the first yellow violets blooming along a woodland path? These most fragile of plants are yet hardy enough to bloom when nights are still frosty and snow still lingers in the ravines. — Howard Evans

You didn't inoculate yourself yesterday," I say to Peter.
"No, I didn't," Peter says.
"Why not?"
"Why should I tell you?"
I run my thumb over the vial and say, "You came with me because you know I have the memory serum, right? If you want me to give it to you, it couldn't hurt to give me a reason."
He looks at my pocket again, like he did earlier. He must have seen Christina give it to me. He says, "I'd rather just take it from you."
"Please." I lift my eyes up, to watch the snow spilling over the edges of the buildings. It's dark, but the moon provides just enough light to see by. "You might think you're pretty good at fighting, but you aren't good enough to beat me, I promise you."
Without warning he shoves me, hard, and I slip on the snowy ground and fall. My gun clatters to the ground, half buried in the snow. That'll teach me to get cocky, I think, and I scramble to my feet. — Veronica Roth

I knew well enough how slow the heart is to catch up with the brute facts. One looks forward to a joy: it is snatched away at the last minute: and, hours later, there are darts of illusory delight when one still feels that it is to come. Such moments cheat one and pass sickeningly away. So, — C.P. Snow

If you roll the dice often enough you always get the numbers you want. If I tell you the sun will shine tomorrow and that it will rain and there will be snow and that clouds will cover the sky and that wind will blow and that it will be a calm day and that thunder will deafen us, then one of those things will turn out to be true and you'll forget the rest because you want to believe that I really can tell the future. — Bernard Cornwell

What if this cursed hand
Were thicker than itself with brother's blood
Is there not rain enough in the sweet heaves
To wash it white as snow? — William Shakespeare

To be ultra is to go beyond. is to attack the scepter in the name of the throne, and the miter in the name of the alter; it is to mistreat the thing you support; it is to kick in the traces; is is to cavil at the stake for undercooking heretics; it is to reproach the idol for lack of idolatry; it is to insult through an excess of respect; it is to find to little papistry in the pope; in the king to little royalty, and too much light in the night; it is to be dissatisfied with the albatross, with snow ,with the swan, and the lily for not being white enough; it is to champion things to the point of becoming their enemy, it is to become so pro you become con. — Victor Hugo

The contemplation of Mont Blanc's unchanging summits for three or four days last month, the sight of that eternal snow, immaculate, sublime in its whiteness and calm, was enough to restore to my soul a serenity it had not known for a long time. — George Sand

There have been so many times where I thought I put on enough sunscreen but actually didn't. As a result, I'd get unbelievable tan lines. Of course in Florida it was expected, but now looking back at pictures, I think I spent an entire summer at the beach with my friends looking like a tomato. A bright shade of red. — Brittany Snow

Rocking Chair
Sad is.
Scared is.
That is all.
The rocking chair I live in rocks like a paper boat. Sometimes I am all words, and no boot.
No muster. No yes. All lag and tired pray,
all miss my hometown. Miss the woods
and the quiet porch and the talking slow.
I caught the snow on my tongue.
Snow angel, I.
My heart a blue lamp.
My mother calling me home.
We cannot be called home enough times in our lives.
Dear lonely,
what is your name?
I will open my front door
and ring it through the streets. — Andrea Gibson

Father,
you died once,
salted down at fifty-nine,
packed down like a big snow angel,
wasn't that enough? — Anne Sexton

I have a surprise for you," the Beast had said, in his usual brusque tone.
Belle had just come in from feeding her horse, Philippe, and was standing by the kitchen's back door, shaking snow from her cloak. She'd taken one look at him - at the scowl on his face, at his clenched paws, at his awkward stance - and said, "No, thank you."
The Beast had blinked, taken aback by her refusal. His scowl had deepened. "I said, I have a surprise for you!"
"And I heard you," Belle had replied, "but I've had enough surprises to last me a lifetime. Including cold, dark cells, packs of wolves, and tantrums."
"Tantrums? Tantrums?" the Beast had sputtered. "I can't believe ... How can you say ... That wasn't a tantrum! And it wasn't my fault! I told you not to go to the West Wing. I told you -"
Belle had given him a sidelong look. "You're right. What was I thinking? You'd never throw a tantrum. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to hang up my cloak. — Jennifer Donnelly

Here, you drive," Erik said.
"What? Why?"
"In case we do have to start shooting; I have a badge and you don't," he explained.
"Fine. But for the record, I'm a better shot than you are."
"For your information, I was the youngest kid awarded the rifle shooting merit badge in my troop," Erik said, holding the wheel as she climbed across him.
"Is that supposed to impress me?"
"Just enough to get you back into my bed." She took over the gas pedal and Erik slid out from underneath her.
"It takes more than fancy shooting," she said loftily, making a sharp turn.
Erik was thrown against the door. "Would you warn me before you do that?"
"It's a car chase! — Tiffany Snow

I know a place on this Earth that contains wonders enough to stop the breath. A place where the very rocks whisper and whine, where the rivers boil and the snow-studded peaks thrust into a bowl of blue; where great shaggy beasts press the earth with cloven hooves or threaten with claw and fang; where new life and lurking death coexist in the shallows of varicolored pools. — Janet Fox

When I get back into the city, it doesn't matter where you plop me down, I have my friends around me and I feel so blessed. I think we all just love to be together and there are just not enough reasons to be together. — Agathe Snow

Our teachers need a snow day. They look unusually pale. The men aren't shaving carefully and the women never remove their boots. They suffer some sort of teacherflu. Their noses drip, their eyes are rimmed with red. They come to school long enough to infect the staff room then go home sick when the sub shows up. — Laurie Halse Anderson

Indicating his twisted legs without a trace of self-pity or bitterness, as if they belonged to all of us, he casts his arms wide to the sky and the snow mountains, the high sun and dancing sheep, and cries, 'Of course I am happy here! It's wonderful! Especially when I have no choice!' In its wholehearted acceptance of what is;I feel as if he had struck me in the chest. Butter tea and wind pictures, the Crystal Mountain, and blue sheep dancing on the snow-it's quite enough!
Have you seen the snow leopard?
No! Isn't that wonderful? — Peter Matthiessen

The Wolf trots to and fro,
The world lies deep in snow,
The raven from the birch tree flies,
But nowhere a hare, nowhere a roe,
The roe -she is so dear, so sweet -
If such a thing I might surprise
In my embrace, my teeth would meet,
What else is there beneath the skies?
The lovely creature I would so treasure,
And feast myself deep on her tender thigh,
I would drink of her red blood full measure,
Then howl till the night went by.
Even a hare I would not despise;
Sweet enough its warm flesh in the night.
Is everything to be denied
That could make life a little bright?
The hair on my brush is getting grey.
The sight is failing from my eyes.
Years ago my dear mate died.
And now I trot and dream of a roe.
I trot and dream of a hare.
I hear the wind of midnight howl.
I cool with the snow my burning jowl,
And on to the devil my wretched soul I bear. — Hermann Hesse

snow, I think. We have a few inches already." Julie knew that 'a little snow' to her aunt might well be enough to put the entire northeast into a state of emergency. Aunt Gwen was pushing hard for Julie — Amy Gamet

Cooking is like snow skiing: If you don't fall at least 10 times, then you're not skiing hard enough. — Guy Fieri

It rained; then it snowed, and the snow stayed on the paved ground for long enough to become evenly blacked with soot and smoke-fall, evenly but for islands of yellow left by uptown dogs. Then it rained again, and the whole creation was transformed into cold slop, which made walking adventuresome. Then it froze; and every corner presented opportunity for entertainment, the vastly amusing spectacle of well-dressed people suspended in the indecorous positions which precede skull fractures. — William Gaddis

Being in a state referred to staring fixedly and without expression at something for extensive periods of time. It can happen when you haven't had enough sleep, or too much sleep, or if you've overeaten, or are distracted, or merely daydreaming. It is not daydreaming, however, because it involves gazing at something. Staring at it. Usually something straight ahead - a shelf on a bookcase, or the centerpiece on the dining room table, or your daughter or child. But in a stare, you are really not looking at this thing you are seeming to stare at, you are not even really noticing it - however, neither are you thinking of something else. You in truth are not doing anything, mentally, but you are doing it fixedly, with what appears to be intent concentration. It is as if one's concentration becomes stuck the way an auto's wheels can be stuck in the snow, turning rapidly without going forward, although it looks like intent concentration. — David Foster Wallace

I felt like I could never get enough of you even if I melted into you like snow on wet grass. — Marvel Comics

Your bet is only for Poser tickets, right?" he called.
And for my self-esteem,but that was splitting hairs. "Yea,that's all."
"Because if it was for more than that,I'd be sweet-talking nick right now and doing everything i could to pull out."
"Oh,no you don't!" Chloe squealed. I think she meant to board between us and shove Josh away for affect. however, she didn't have enough control to do this,so she just crossed in front of him and fell in his path, which was somewhat anticlimatic.She shouted up at him, "You need to decide whether you stand with your sister or with the sexist pigs!" Even on her butt in the snow, Chloe was a formidable force.
"yes,ma'am." Josh saluted with his mitten to his goggles. — Jennifer Echols

At the bakery it's just me. It's a small place. Just me and the raspberry horns and the tourtiere pies and my cigarette going in the ashtray near the black sink. Every once in a while a car passes through the dark street outside the storefont windows, but that's pretty much all I see of people while I'm there, until the end of my shift at eight when Monica shows up to open the store for the day. A solid twelve hours by myself, nothing but the radio to keep me company, and I like it just fine, being alone. It's even better in the winter, during a storm, when the snow piles up outside and no cars come by at all. Inside the bakery it's warm and there's plenty to keep my hands busy. Times like that, for all I can tell I'm the only person left on earth. I could go on making pies and watching the snow pile up until the end of time, so long as there was enough coffee on hand. I don't need company like some people seem to. — Ron Currie Jr.

(...)

That winter you left me snow-blind trying to find enough details that would let you know that even though some people have perfect sight,
those same people could try to paint you by numbers and they still wouldn't get you right.
You were Monet number two and Van Gogh number 6,
a mix tape of Hendrix and Leibowitz portraits.

It makes no sense to me that we were ever together.
And my makeshift weather reports were the closest I ever came to telling you how I felt.
But you were a lover of the minuscule,
you dealt best with details.
Weighing our relationship on scales you balanced us out, and always made me feel needed.

You always asked me what to wear,
and I would stare at you as if for a second I wouldn't answer.
Of course, I always did.
Hid my affections, and my response:
"wear that smile" I said.
That one you wear when you see me.
That one you wear to bed. — Shane L. Koyczan

But imagine this, for a moment. If an asteroid happened to hit one of the rare remaining older surfaces; if its strike were glancing enough that it didn't pulverise the surface, but forceful enough that it ejected a chunk of rock with an escape velocity of 12,000 mph; if that chunk, flung out into space, wandered aimlessly for a million years or two before feeling the gravitational tug of a nearby planet; if it tore through the atmosphere of that planet in a blaze of glory and landed on one of the planet's frozen ice caps; if the chunk was buried in snow, squeezed, shoved and harried until it re-emerged, blinking, into the strangely blue daylight; and if, tens of thousands of years later a few local bipeds happened upon it, might it contain signs of alien life? If so, it would surely become one of the most exciting pieces of real estate in the entire Solar System. — Gabrielle Walker

Another snowball, this time it impacted on my shoulder.
I dusted the snow off my coat with my free hand and gave him the biggest stinkeye I could muster.
"How old are you again? Twelve?"
He grinned, teeth white as the snow he gathered.
"Old enough to make you come, young enough to make you hate me for it."
"Oh jeez," I muttered, shaking my head, and turned around.
Bam.
Snowball to the back of my head. — Karina Halle

Ready?" he asked. He motioned for her to look to the sky.
She'd been on enough long walks with her father to know it was time to open her mind. Their times in nature usually held a secret surprise. It could be anything, really - a rainbow touching the snow or heart-shaped shade cast by a pair of trees. Anything. Today, the gift was being outside the second it started to snow.
"Ooh, Daddy! Look, it's like a salt shaker!" She stuck her tongue out for the newborn snowflakes.
Blake followed her lead. Snow tasted sweeter with Emme around. — Debra Anastasia

As the glow of the cabin windows turned to flickers through the trees and then to black, her eyes adjusted and the starlight alone on the pure white snow was enough to light her way. The cold scorched her cheeks and her lungs, but she was warm in her fox hat and wool. An owl swooped through the spruce boughs, a slow-flying shadow, but she was not frightened. She felt old and strong, like the mountains and the river. She would find her way home. — Eowyn Ivey

To have faith is to believe in truth, believe that truth confers special power on those lucky enough to get a little insight, and to know in our hearts that all these things come from God, which is why we should never get too cocky about our successes. — Tony Snow

But if that's not enough, then consider this: if the Night's Watch are truly brothers, then Lord Commander Mormont was our father. He lived and died for the Watch and he was betrayed by his own men, stabbed in the back by cowards. He deserved far better. — Jon Snow

In winter, the air is clear enough to drink, and your eyes can travel many hundreds of miles until they reach the green of the near hills, the blue-gray beyond them, and then the snow peaks far away, which rise in the sky with the sun, and remain suspended there, higher than imaginable, changing color and shape through the day. Every hour, they come closer, their massive flanks clearly visible, plumes of cloud smoking from their tips. After the last of the daylight is gone, at dusk, the peaks still glimmer in the slow-growing darkness as if jagged pieces of the moon had dropped from sky to earth. — Anuradha Roy

It's been written that the most sublime figure in American history was George Washington on his knees in the snow at Valley Forge. He personified a people who knew that it was not enough to depend on their own courage and goodness, that they must also seek help from God - their Father and preserver. Where did we begin to lose sight of that noble beginning, of our conviction that standards of right and wrong do exist and must be lived up to? Do we really think that we can have it both ways, that God will protect us in a time of crisis even as we turn away from him in our day-to-day life? — Ronald Reagan

For we are like tree trunks in the snow. In appearance they lie smoothly and a little push should be enough to set them rolling. No, it can't be done, for they are firmly wedded to the ground. But see, even that is only appearance. — Franz Kafka

It was a stern night landscape. The sound of the freezing of snow over the land seemed to roar deep into the earth. There was no moon. The stars, almost too many of them to be true, came forward so brightly that it was as if they were falling with the swiftness of the void. As the stars came nearer, the sky retreated deeper and deeper into the night clolour. The layers of the Border Range, indistinguishable one from another, cast their heaviness at the skirt of the starry sky in a blackness grave and somber enough to communicate their mass. The whole of the night scene came together in a clear, tranquil harmony. — Yasunari Kawabata

The dark aftermath of the frontier, of the vast promise of possibility this country first offered, is an inflated sense of American entitlement today. We want what we want, and we want it now. Easy credit. Fast food. A straight shot down the interstate from point A to point B. The endless highway is crowded with the kinds of cars large enough to take a mountain pass in high snow. Instead they are used to take children from soccer practice to Pizza Hut. In the process they burn fuel like there's no tomorrow. Tomorrow's coming. — Anna Quindlen

-Humph! Said Ami as she then quickly pulled ahead of me, having grown tired of my silent treatment. However, as she slipped by, I couldn't resist quickly reaching over and flipping-up the back of her skirt, just enough to see that she had a panda on the back of her panties, my fingers never touching her ass, yet I could feel the warmth underneath.
-Nice bear behind you got there! So I said
She froze in mid step, and looked as if she was going to turn around, but instead she shuttered as if a tingling electric shock had gone all through her body. I then noticed that the back of her neck to the roots of her hair had turned a lobster red! Though whether that was because of embarrassment or anger or both I'm not sure. In any case, Ami's hands became tight fists, and then with a growl like a tigress she quickly stomped off. I have actually heard a growl like that since that time. It's the sound of a female Nepali snow leopard, in heat, just before it pounces on a potential mate. — Andrew James Pritchard

Snow and adolescence are the only problems that disappear if you ignore them long enough. — Earl Wilson

As far as Reagan was concerned, Cath was already problematically weird. "It's bad enough that you have homemade Simon Snow posters," Reagan had said last night while she was getting ready for bed. "Do you have to have gay homemade Simon Snow posters?"
Cath had looked up at the drawing over her desk of Simon and Baz holding hands. "Leave them alone," she said. "They're in love. — Rainbow Rowell

Why does Paul spell it out, calling us to consider the width and breadth and depth and height of Christ's love? He is proposing a way to meditate and inviting us to do it. Let's take up his invitation. How wide is the love of God? Think of Isaiah 1:18: "Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow." Scarlet is the color of blood. This was God's way of saying through Isaiah, "Even if you have killed somebody, even if you have blood-guilt, blood on your hands, my love is wide enough to enfold and embrace you. It doesn't matter who you are or what you have done. It doesn't matter if you have killed people. If Jesus Christ died on the cross so that you are saved by grace alone, then my love is infinitely wide. It is wide enough for you. — Timothy Keller

She thought, if we stay here, soon enough it will be you sitting at the table and me, I don't know, cooking something, and the snow flying, and the old man so glad we're here he'll be off in his study praying about it. And geraniums in the window. Red ones. — Marilynne Robinson

One of the most challenging ways is to slow down enough to relax our heart and feel what is nearest. It could be the sun reflecting off of broken glass in an alley. It could be the shine on a crow. It could be snow on a lamp post. — Mark Nepo

Virgil had read once that Grandma Moses was a primitive painter because she thought snow was white. The writer said if you really looked at it, snow was hardly ever white. It mostly was a gentler version of the color of the sky - blue, gray, orange in the evenings and mornings, often with purple shadows. When he looked, sure enough, the guy was right, and Grandma Moses had her head up her ass. — John Sandford