If we had no winter, the spring would not be so pleasant.
If we had not winter, the spring would not be so pleasant; if we did not sometimes taste of adversity, prosperity would not be so welcome.
In the entire circle of the year there are no days so delightful as those of a fine October.
Autumn arrives in early morning, but spring at the close of a winter day.
Winter is the king of showmen, Turning tree stumps into snowmen And houses into birthday cakes And spreading sugar over lakes. Smooth and clean and frosty white, The world looks good enough to bite. That’s the season to be young, Catching snowflakes on your tongue. Snow is snowy when it’s snowing, I’m sorry it’s slushy when it’s going.
In the entire circle of the year there are no days so delightful as those of a fine October, when the trees are bare to the mild heavens, and the red leaves bestrew the road, and you can feel the breath of winter, morning and evening - no days so calm, so tenderly solemn, and with such a reverent meekness in the air.
The year's in wane; There is nothing adorning; The night has no eve, And the day has no morning; Cold winter gives warning!
No winter lasts forever; no spring skips its turn.
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.
In winter the stars seem to have rekindled their fires, the moon achieves a fuller triumph, and the heavens wear a look of a more exalted simplicity.
Are the days of winter sunshine just as sad for you, too? When it is misty, in the evenings, and I am out walking by myself, it seems to me that the rain is falling through my heart and causing it to crumble into ruins.
Morning. Strawberry sky dusted with white winter powder sugar sun. And nobody to munch on it with
I get up very early in the morning. I enjoy the quietness, the stillness, the rawness in the winter and fall. It's a special time.
I'm a cold winter morning, y'all Summer's Eve.
Every time I jog through the world, I am awed by what I find. On a winter morning, when it seems too cold and slippery for safe jogging or bicycling, I can still go out and experience the glory of sunlight turning icy branches into strings of sparkling diamonds.
You wouldn't let him do it, would you, Jamie?" Jamie's expression was very serene. She stared at Andrew when she spoke to her husband. "With your permission, I would like to answer him." "You have it," Alec replied. "Andrew," she called out in a voice as cold and clear as a frigid winter morning, "my husband does whatever he wishes to do. I am sometimes allowed to help, though. If he decides to cut off your feet, I will, of course, offer him my assistance.
Rain-diamonds, this winter morning, embellish the tangle of unpruned pear-tree twigs; each solitaire, placed, it appears, with considered judgement, bears the light beneath the rifted clouds - the invisible shared out in endless abundance.
On a cold winter morning a cigar fortifies the soul.
There must be some nerve and heroism in our love, as of a winter morning.
I'm old enough to remember when the air over American cities was a lot dirtier than it is now. You've probably never woken up early on a winter morning to the acid stink of coal smoke in the air, which was everywhere when I was a little kid. My grade school was heated with coal. Not only was coal used to generate electricity, it was without any scrubbers in the stacks.
or simply:
