Quotes & Sayings About Playing In The Snow

- I should be doing my homework now. But the way I look at it, playing in the snow is a lot more important. Out here I'm learning real skills that I can apply throughout the rest of my life.
- Such as?
- Procrastination and rationalization. — Bill Watterson

Something about her is so tempting to look at. Her anger has a childish aura as if she isn't made of real evil; just a bratty princess playing with her toy fangs. — Cameron Jace

Powder snow skiing is not fun. It is life, fully lived, life lived in a blaze of reality. What we experience in powder is the original human self, which lies deeply inside each of us, still undamaged in spite of what our present culture tries to do to us. Once experienced, this kind of living is recognized as the only way to live - fully aware of the earth and the sky and the gods and you, the mortal, playing among them. — Dolores LaChapelle

After 'Prom Night' I did two movies where I was playing a prostitute. I gravitate towards characters that have some sort of inner turmoil or some sort of character arc. That's the great thing about acting, so many different things and being really diverse in your choices. — Brittany Snow

Playing the game for money produces the proper professional attitude. It inculcates the lunch-pail state of mind that shows up for work despite rain or snow or dark of night and slugs it out day after day. — Steven Pressfield

I remember wishing there was snow in L.A. And how jealous we used to get of those Christmas specials with kids playing in the snow. — Ice Cube

Do you remember a scene with Ryan and Ali playing in the snow? Well, that was improvised. — Arthur Hiller

And when you and I are long forgot, they'll say, 'You should have heard them playing. You should have seen them marching, then.' And it'll snow again. But it'll no break 'til after the parade. And when we come back from the hill it'll be bitter cold, and a wee bit misty maybe, and pink over the roofs. I see it fine. — James Kennaway

You're an idiot, half-breed," she taunted, as I kicked snow at her. She dodged easily. "Rowan's too good for you, and he's experienced. Most everyone, fey and mortal boys included, would give their teeth to have him to themselves for a night. Try him. I guarantee you'll like it."
"Not interested," I snapped, glaring at her with narrowed eyes. My butt still stung, making my words sharp. "I'm done playing games with faery princes. They can go to hell, for all I care. I'd rather strip naked for a group of redcaps."
"Ooh, if you do, can I watch? — Julie Kagawa

He should be worried about playing the game, not innovating it. He thinks he's Brett Hull or something. You should remind him that he didn't go to college. He's a junior (hockey) guy. So he's not that bright. — Garth Snow

They were playing old Bob Dylan, more than perfect for narrow Village streets close to Christmas and the snow whirling down in big feathery flakes, the kind of winter where you want to be walking down a city street with your arm around a girl like on the old record cover — Donna Tartt

I don't give sick days if you're playing in the snow." He's being funny, or trying to be funny. I can never tell which. — Zoe Cruz

All day, the colours had been those of dusk, mist moving like a water creature across the great flanks of mountains possessed of ocean shadows and depths. Briefly visible above the vapour, Kanchenjunga was a far peak whittled out of ice, gathering the last of the night, a plume of snow blown high by the storms at its summit.
Sai, sitting on the veranda, was reading an article about giant squid in an old National Geographic. Every now and then she looked up at Kanchenjunga, observed its wizard phosphorescence with a shiver. The judge sat at the far corner with his chessboard, playing against himself. Stuffed under his chair where she felt safe was Mutt the dog, snoring gently in her sleep. A single bald lightbulb dangled on a wire above. It was cold, but inside the house, it was still colder, the dark, the freeze, contained by stone walls several feet deep. — Kiran Desai

There was no more yelling or calling out, but they could not contain the small snatches of laughter. They were only humans, playing in the snow, in a house — Markus Zusak

She smiled at his flirtations. "Have I ever told you how incorrigible you are?"
He chuckled. "Several times. But I do have some redeemable qualities. Don't you think?"
She kissed him lightly on the lips. "You sure do."
"Name one."
"Well!" Amelia tapped her forehead as if to think. Do you mean besides being so irresponsible that it drives me crazy? Well, I have to say that you're not bad to look at. That why I keep you around."
A smile was playing at the corners of Rick's lips and a mischievous glint appeared in his eyes. Without warning, he pulled her into his arms and gave a kiss to remember. — Linda Weaver Clarke

They ended up in a amusement arcade on Old Compton Street, where Nora insisted Stephen join her on one of those dance-step machines, and as he stood next to her, stomping out a dance routine on the illuminated dance floor, he had a sudden anxiety that Nora might be one of those kooky, free-spirit types, the kind of irreverent life-force who, in the imaginary romantic comedy currently playing in his head, turns the hero's narrow life upside down, etc., etc. The acid test for free-spirited kookiness is to show the subject a field of fresh snow; if they flop on their backs and make snow-angels, then the test is positive. In the absence of snow, Stephan resolved to keep an eye open for other tell-tale kookiness indicators: a propensity for wacky hats, zany mismatched socks, leaf-kicking, a disproportionate enthusiasm for karaoke, kite - flying and light-hearted shoplifting, the whole Holly Golightly act. — David Nicholls

The water you kids were playing in, he said, had probably been to Africa and the North Pole. Genghis Khan or Saint Peter or even Jesus may have drunk it. Cleopatra might have bathed in it. Crazy Horse might have watered his pony with it. Sometimes water was liquid. Sometimes it was rock hard- ice. Sometimes it was soft- snow. Sometimes it was visible but weightless- clouds. And sometimes it was completely invisible- vapor- floating up into the the sky like the soals of dead people. There was nothing like water in the world, Jim said. It made the desert bloom but also turned rich bottomland into swamp. Without it we'd die, but it could also kill us, and that was why we loved it, even craved it, but also feared it. Never take water forgranted, Jim said. Always cherish it. Always beware of it. — Jeannette Walls