I have always had strong maternal instincts. Even when I was still a child I cut out pictures of prams from newspapers and imagined the feeling of pushing my own pram through fresh winter snow and seeing the wheels' tracks behind me in the snow.
Kindness is like snow-it beautifies everything it covers.
Winter is on my head, but eternal spring is in my heart.
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.
Only in the winter, in the country, can you have longer quiet stretches when you can savor belonging to yourself.
Thank goodness for the first snow, it was a reminder--no matter how old you became and how much you'd seen, things could still be new if you were willing to believe they still mattered.
Snow flurries began to fall and they swirled around people's legs like house cats. It was magical, this snow globe world.
A snow day literally and figuratively falls from the sky, unbidden, and seems like a thing of wonder.
In seed time learn, in harvest teach, in winter enjoy.
There is no such thing as bad weather, only different kinds of good weather.
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.
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.
I like these cold, gray winter days. Days like these let you savor a bad mood.
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.
Spring, summer, and fall fill us with hope; winter alone reminds us of the human condition.
A lot of people like snow. I find it to be an unnecessary freezing of water.
Snow falling soundlessly in the middle of the night will always fill my heart with sweet clarity
If we had no winter, the spring would not be so pleasant.
O, wind, if winter comes, can spring be far behind?
There is a privacy about it which no other season gives you.... In spring, summer and fall people sort of have an open season on each other; only in the winter, in the country, can you have longer, quiet stretches when you can savor belonging to yourself.
What good is the warmth of summer, without the cold of winter to give it sweetness.
Snow provokes responses that reach right back to childhood.
The snow itself is lonely or, if you prefer, self-sufficient. There is no other time when the whole world seems composed of one thing and one thing only.
Snow and adolescence are the only problems that disappear if you ignore them long enough.
January brings the snow, makes our feet and fingers glow.
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