c2p-cmd/Good-Quotes-Authors huggingface dataset:
However much we would adore the past it will forever die in the future with us.
— Sorin Cerin, Wisdom Collection: The Book of Wisdom
Nobody can open the gates of death without closing them again after him.
— Sorin Cerin, Wisdom Collection: The Book of Wisdom
Have you ever been further away than yourself? Where?
— Sorin Cerin, Wisdom Collection: The Book of Wisdom
What clouds may wet the gaze without hope of emptiness within us?
— Sorin Cerin, Wisdom Collection: The Book of Wisdom
Was there ever something not known before it was recognized?
— Sorin Cerin, Wisdom Collection: The Book of Wisdom
What shell did not feel the sound waves and which bird did not face at least once the wind?
— Sorin Cerin, Wisdom Collection: The Book of Wisdom
Do not walk away from death because you came out of it.
— Sorin Cerin, Wisdom Collection: The Book of Wisdom
Has anyone succeeded in being his own desire?
— Sorin Cerin, Wisdom Collection: The Book of Wisdom
Do not rummage through your thought’s drawer because you will be ever more disorientated than they are.
— Sorin Cerin, Wisdom Collection: The Book of Wisdom
There are not wings of dreams that have not previously dealt with the flight of black thoughts.
— Sorin Cerin, Wisdom Collection: The Book of Wisdom
If you combine the suffering’s great color palette you will find happiness as well.
— Sorin Cerin, Wisdom Collection: The Book of Wisdom
Does somebody know why the consciousness of death has to die?
— Sorin Cerin, Wisdom Collection: The Book of Wisdom
No matter how many snowstorms will pass through you, none will bring you the spring like love will.
— Sorin Cerin, Wisdom Collection: The Book of Wisdom
No one leads an army to war, unless they have first served in battle
— Gaiven Clairmont, Seductive Saints and Sensual Sinners
One will never find in the waterfall of sights anything else than the Illusion of Life, which falls in torrents on the granite rocks of the souls.
— Sorin Cerin, Wisdom Collection: The Book of Wisdom
Good defeats evil most of the times, but sometimes in order to defeat the devil you must first become his disciple
— Gaiven Clairmont
We cannot conceive death as anything else than the afterlife because we cannot comprehend death unless we live.
— Sorin Cerin, Wisdom Collection: The Book of Wisdom
I have reached this world’s dreams harbor as devoid of truth as any other soul that dreams it lives through knowledge.
— Sorin Cerin, Wisdom Collection: The Book of Wisdom
Who can hide himself from death or who can embrace the wind?
— Sorin Cerin, Wisdom Collection: The Book of Wisdom
However deaf the ring of our love bells should strike they will eventually disperse this world’s emptiness clouds.
— Sorin Cerin, Wisdom Collection: The Book of Wisdom
'Lady Wisdom' is my wife and those I reach with Truth understood are my children".~R. Alan Woods [2012]
— R. Alan Woods, The Journey Is The Destination: A Photo Journal
I shield to one who is pessimistic and shield to one who is optimistic leaving this in a wandering state.
— Josh Cathey
Just the inexplicable wants to be understood within the nonsense of emptiness that belongs to this world of illusion.
— Sorin Cerin, Wisdom Collection: The Book of Wisdom
Your soul fountain will never drain until the instant of eternity will halt before it to drink the water of death.
— Sorin Cerin, Wisdom Collection: The Book of Wisdom
To believe in what you don’t know is as true as to believe in what you do know as long as life is an illusion.
— Sorin Cerin, Wisdom Collection: The Book of Wisdom
We are a dream of a thought which lives trough the Word.
— Sorin Cerin, Wisdom Collection: The Book of Wisdom
Of how much light will my destiny’s eyes have to become aware until it will come true in death?
— Sorin Cerin, Wisdom Collection: The Book of Wisdom
The leaves of hopes which have destined words in the body of the thought have settled to the ground. This is the world.
— Sorin Cerin, Wisdom Collection: The Book of Wisdom
The one who did not understood that his time’s root supports his life tree was born in vain.
— Sorin Cerin, Wisdom Collection: The Book of Wisdom
We have a lot of thoughts throughout our entire life, but ultimately we get all to the conclusion of a single thought: Death!
— Sorin Cerin, Wisdom Collection: The Book of Wisdom
We are born more dead than when we die after we have searched death through the storm of the instants of our entire life.
— Sorin Cerin, Wisdom Collection: The Book of Wisdom
Tell Evil men of your sins and they will use it against you Tell a sinner of your sins and they will pray for you
— Ocean Crisstopher Poet
Not the measure of words is necessary, but their meaning.
— Sorin Cerin, Wisdom Collection: The Book of Wisdom
when you fall into darkness do not spend all your energy and light rather than to remain in darkness.
— Kamaran Ihsan Salih
Unknown situations offer us opportunities for fresh learning. When we judge these situations solely by our conscious logic, fear grips us; we turn these opportunities down. We close ourselves from new experiences. We stagnate.On the contrary, when we embrace these opportunities, we force our intuition to work in the face of risks. And then, when we observe our perceptions, actions, and reactions in these situations, we see our evolution. We break out of our limits.
— Indrajit Garai
An ounce of wisdom can prevent a pound of folly.
— Matshona Dhliwayo
when I look at people fighting with ammunition and weapons of all kind I ponder within me;somehow as a cynic. Ammunition's and weapons are good for war; Yes,they are better necessities to winning battle but the best choice of weapons are neither ammunition nor the strength of a battalion of army but wisdom; a pen on a paper backed by a great mind
— Ernest Agyemang Yeboah
And I am now compelled to wonder if wisdom has ever existed or can ever exist. Might wisdom be as impossible in this particular universe as a perpetual-motion machine?
— Kurt Vonnegut Jr., Jailbird
Dare to ask questions. This is the only way to find answers to your curiosity.
— Lailah Gifty Akita, Think Great: Be Great!
You'll learn wisdom for yourself, if you have become sedentary.
— Kristian Goldmund Aumann, From Poet's Hand
Looking forward is the future, standing where you are is the present. looking back is the past. A memory is a piece of the past snipped and played as a short movie or story.
— William Eckard
We are fools in the stream of time, in moments of calm, we will laugh about ourselves.
— Kristian Goldmund Aumann
True wisdom lies in the pure roots of untouchedly souls.
— Kristian Goldmund Aumann, From Poet's Hand
Maybe life is not about accomplishing some bullshit markers.
— John Green, An Abundance of Katherines
Wisdom is knowing you know nothing
— Socrates
arrogance is knowledge minus wisdom
— Celso Cukierkorn, Secrets of Jewish Wealth Revealed!
Bloody ashes, woman. This isn't a metaphor for anything! It's just boots.
— Robert Jordan, Towers of Midnight
We need teachers. We need to be teachers. Knowing when for each, is wisdom
— Rick Beneteau
Every breath you take is a step forward toward death. (Hazrat Ali-As)
— Hazrat Ali ibn Abu-Talib
Be more weary of the fearful than of the brave.
— Meeta Ahluwalia
Do not starve your soul while you indulge your body. That is dressing the shadow.
— Hemat Malak, Your Angels Called and Left a Message: Divine Messages to Guide You to Happiness
To me, every cubic inch of space is a miracle.
— Walt Whitman
True wisdom dwells in the ability to remain constantly aware of that in which we have no practical knowledge of
— Carl Henegan, Darkness Left Undone
Love should never be too much or too less, yet it cannot be measured.
— Rizi Dame C. Briz
Want wisdom? Laugh at yourself.
— Maggie Bishop, Murder at Blue Falls
Wisdom doesn’t come only from the experience you have had, but from the experience you have chosen not to have.
— Anthony Marais, Delusionism
We are all born wise. Unfortunately, we all don’t die that way.
— Anthony Marais, Delusionism
Let the purity and innocence of a child be your one and only religion!
— Mehmet Murat ildan
there is a big difference between a boy and a man, the level of maturity will tell.
— Akinwumi jarule
Never show your weakness before adversary.
— Euginia Herlihy
Perplexity is the beginning of a new way.
— Kristian Goldmund Aumann
Humility fears not humiliation.
— John Spencer Yantiss
I do not know who I am, said the wise man, and went his way of knowledge unto the end of days.
— Kristian Goldmund Aumann
One conversation with a wise man is better than ten years of study in a public school.
— D.B. Patterson
Intelligence is naked without wisdom. Wisdom dresses interestingly with intelligence.
— Santosh Kalwar
Nothing is wasted of time if you use the xperience wisely.
— Auguste Rodin
I learned to ambush the fear and I managed to turn vulnerability to ruthlessness.
— Euginia Herlihy, The Experiences of Life & Prayers
When you have nothing to lose, you have everything to gain...
— Wayne J. Keeley
Knowledge is not determined by what you know, but by whether you believe you can always learn.
— Bobby Hoffman, Hack Your Motivation: Over 50 Science-Based Strategies to Improve Performance
The only thing that holds back from your success is fear of the unknown
— Thabiso Monkoe, The Azanian
Everything that happens in our life expands us and makes us more than we were before, including our ability to be happy and joyful.
— Mark Susnow, The Soul of Uncertainty: A Fable of Our Time
If you want to learn new things in life, make you busy in finding new people.
— Naveen Mayura
The sky is not the limit, it's the starting point.
— Tina Mag
Things work out if you have enough faith.
— Cecilia Yeung, A Journey Of Riches: The art of overcoming challenges
I will be successful. May be not right away, but some day for sure.
— Manoj Kudemelly
Love God no matter the situation! Always remember that He is with you everywhere! Remember that He loves you, He wants the best of you, and He is the reason you are here!
— Heather Westhoven
Some consider haters, people that simply cannot be happy for another person’s success. I just don’t consider them.
— Jon Luvelli
Don’t be anxious of circumstances, gain X-factor to face it.
— - Aakash
No matter how many times you’ve been told no, you can do something or make it happen if you really want it badly because life is all about who delivers when you get out there”.
— Abdulazeez Henry Musa
I'll try once again, try my best & give my best!
— Sujish Kandampully
Obstacles are the things we see when we take our eyes off our goals.
— E.B. Sanchez
Nothing lasts forever, so live life large. Do all the things you've been putting off, avoid the drama, laugh it off! Make sure your loved ones know it and make every moment count.
— Karen  Gibbs
Always follow your passion to be successful.
— Harry S. Vested Jr.
A genuine teacher does not seek to impress you with their greatness, but instead to impress upon you that you possess the skills to discover your own.
— Charles F. Glassman
Sometimes it’s OK to go with the flow; you need not to be a winner, diverse, superior, special EVERYTIME.
— Aman Jassal, Rainbow - the shades of love
don't leave without living
— Ernest Agyemang Yeboah
We were not put on this earth to be ordinary, we were created to be extraordinary.
— Frederick E. Owen Jr.
Historic unforgotten moments made by those who broke the rules..اللحظات التاريخية التي لا تنسى صنعت من قبل أولئك الذين كسروا القوانين
— Hicham LM Kamelionaire
Character and education are the wings you can give your children and they will fly to places where ordinary people cannot go
— JOEL NYARANGI AKOYA
I can do it, yes I can." from "You can do it, yes you can." Think Tank Ink for Scriptwriters.
— Lena "Think Tank Ink" Banks
life is hard to explain, difficult to understand but you still need life.
— Malik Daniyal Sakhawat
Uniqueness is everywhere, & inside you, search for it or for someone who find it in you.
— Malik Daniyal Sakhawat
It is not important how successful you are, the only thing that matters is how good a person you are...
— Vedang Sati, Let us Discover Physics: Appreciating Nature
Winter is coming.
— George R.R. Martin, A Game of Thrones
Nothing burns like the cold.
— George R.R. Martin, A Game of Thrones
She turned to the sunlight    And shook her yellow head,And whispered to her neighbor:    "Winter is dead.
— A.A. Milne, When We Were Very Young
What did you bring me today? Delusional mutterings with a side of crazy?
— Marissa Meyer, Winter
The heart can get really cold if all you've known is winter.
— Benjamin Alire Sáenz, Last Night I Sang to the Monster
A lot of people like snow. I find it to be an unnecessary freezing of water.
— Carl Reiner
They're the first crew I've ever had and most of them even call me Captain. I'm going to miss them.
— Marissa Meyer, Winter
Tapping a finger against the flesh of her elbow, she deadpanned, “Jacin Clay, there is an assassin under my bed.
— Marissa Meyer, Winter
And they all lived happily to the end of their days.
— Marissa Meyer, Winter
In the winter she curls up around a good book and dreams away the cold.
— Ben Aaronovitch, Broken Homes
Winter is not a season, it's an occupation.
— Sinclair Lewis
You think I’m perfect?”He didn’t look away. Didn’t look bashful or even nervous. Just stared at her, like she’d asked him if Luna orbited the Earth. Then he leaned over and brushed a kiss against her forehead.“Just sort of,” he said. “You know. On a good day.
— Marissa Meyer, Winter
Nothing burns like the cold. But only for a while. Then it gets inside you and starts to fill you up, and after a while you don't have the strength to fight it.
— George R.R. Martin, A Game of Thrones
Emperor, right." she retacked the curtain "That's weird to say, after eighteen years of listening to celebrity gossip feeds go on and on about 'Earth's favorite prince'". She claimed one of the lumpy sofa cushions, curling her legs beneath her. "I had a picture of him taped to my wall when I was fifteen. Grand-mere cut it off a cereal box."Wolf scowled."Of course, half the girls in the world probably have had that same picture from that same cereal box."Wolf scrunched his shoulders against his neck, and Scarlet grinned, teasing. "Oh, no. You're not going to have to fight him for pack dominance now are you? Come here."She beckoned him with a wave of her hand and he was at her side in half a second, the glower softening as he pulled her against his chest.
— Marissa Meyer, Winter
There are such a lot of things that have no place in summer and autumn and spring. Everything that’s a little shy and a little rum. Some kinds of night animals and people that don’t fit in with others and that nobody really believes in. They keep out of the way all the year. And then when everything’s quiet and white and the nights are long and most people are asleep—then they appear.
— Tove Jansson, Moominland Midwinter
I followed your footsteps," he said, in answer to the unspoken question. "Snow makes it easy." I had been tracked, like a bear. "Sorry to make you go to all that trouble," I said. "I didn't have to go that far, really. You're about three streets over. You just kept going in loops." A really inept bear.
— Maureen Johnson, Let It Snow: Three Holiday Romances
No animal, according to the rules of animal-etiquette, is ever expected to do anything strenuous, or heroic, or even moderately active during the off-season of winter.
— Kenneth Grahame, The Wind in the Willows
Winter then in its early and clear stages, was a purifying engine that ran unhindered over city and country, alerting the stars to sparkle violently and shower their silver light into the arms of bare upreaching trees. It was a mad and beautiful thing that scoured raw the souls of animals and man, driving them before it until they loved to run. And what it did to Northern forests can hardly be described, considering that it iced the branches of the sycamores on Chrystie Street and swept them back and forth until they rang like ranks of bells.
— Mark Helprin, Winter's Tale
Nothing is as tedious as the limping days,When snowdrifts yearly cover all the ways,And ennui, sour fruit of incurious gloom,Assumes control of fate’s immortal loom
— Charles Baudelaire, Paris Spleen
When Josey woke up and saw the feathery frost on her windowpane, she smiled. Finally, it was cold enough to wear long coats and tights. It was cold enough for scarves and shirts worn in layers, like camouflage. It was cold enough for her lucky red cardigan, which she swore had a power of its own. She loved this time of year. Summer was tedious with the light dresses she pretended to be comfortable in while secretly sure she looked like a loaf of white bread wearing a belt. The cold was such a relief.
— Sarah Addison Allen, The Sugar Queen
But he place a gentle palm under her chin and turned her face back to him. “I'm privileged to see you like this,” he said, his eyes fierce. “Wear you social mask at your balls and parties and when you visit your friends out there, but when we are alone, just the two of us in here, promise me this: that you'll show me only your real face, no matter how ugly you might think it. That's our true intimacy, not sex, but the ability to be ourselves when we are together. (Winter Makepeace)
— Elizabeth Hoyt, Thief of Shadows
Cinder flexed her tongue, testing it, and raised her voice."I am princess Selene."Levana leaned forward. "Your are an impostor!""And I am ready to claim what's mine. People of Artemisia, this is your chance. Renounce Levana as your queen and swear fealty to me, or I swear that when I wear that crown, very person in this room will be punished for their betrayal.
— Marissa Meyer, Winter
Pies mean Thanksgiving and Christmas and picnics.
— Janet Clarkson, Pie: A Global History
Winter is nature's way of saying, "Up yours.
— Robert Byrne
Is it snowing where you are? All the world that I see from my tower is draped in white and the flakes are coming down as big as pop-corns. It's late afternoon - the sun is just setting (a cold yellow colour) behind some colder violet hills, and I am up in my window seat using the last light to write to you.
— Jean Webster, Daddy-Long-Legs
I am not warm. That is why my sister chose the name Winter for me.
— Paula Stokes, Vicarious
Winter’s head snapped around, away from Scarlet. Scarlet’s pace slowed, dread pulsing through her as she, too, heard the footsteps. Pounding footsteps, like someone was running at full speed toward them. She reached for the knife Jacin had given her. A man barrelled around the corner, heading straight for the princess. Winter tensed half a second before he reached her. Grabbing Winter’s elbow, he yanked back the red hood. Scarlet gasped. Her knees weakened. The man stared at Winter with a mixture of confusion and disappointment and maybe even anger, all locked up in eyes so vividly green that Scarlet could see them glowing from here. She was the one hallucinating now. She took a stumbling, uncertain step forward. Wanting to run toward him, but terrified it was a trick. Her hand tightened around the knife handle as Wolf, ignoring how Winter was trying to pull away, grabbed her arm and smelled the filthy red sleeve of Scarlet’s hoodie, streaked with dirt and blood. He growled, ready to tear the princess apart. “Where did you get this?” So desperate, so determined, so him. The knife slipped out of Scarlet’s hand. Wolf’s attention snapped to her. “Wolf?” she whispered. His eyes brightened, wild and hopeful. Releasing Winter, he strode forward. His tumultuous eyes scooped over her. Devoured her. When he was in arm’s reach, Scarlet almost collapsed into him, but at the last moment she had the presence of mind to step back. She planted a hand on his chest. Wolf froze, hurt flickering across his face. “I’m sorry,” said Scarlet, her voice teetering with exhaustion. “It’s just…I smell so awful, I can hardly stand to be around myself right now, so I can’t even imagine what it’s like for you with your sense of 
— Marissa Meyer, Winter
I gave three quiet cheers for Minnesota. In Seattle a dusty inch of anything white and chilly means the city lapses into full-on panic mode, as if each falling flake crashes to earth with its own individual baggie of used hypodermic needles. It’s ridiculous.
— Cherie Priest, Bloodshot
I'll never look at you in any way but complete admiration.” He stroked her hair soothingly. “You will never be a millstone about my neck. Rather you're the sunshine that brightens my day.” He swallowed. “Don't you see? You brought me into the daylight. You've embraced parts of me that I was never able to let see light. Don't make me retreat again into the night. (Winter Makepeace)
— Elizabeth Hoyt, Thief of Shadows
It reminded me of what Dad said after every snail’s crawl home fromAlbany when snow hit.“It’s New York, people. It’s winter. We get snow. If you aren’t preparedto deal with it, move to Miami.
— Kelley Armstrong, Dangerous
Though Anne was born in Alabama and schooled in Mississippi, she had traveled North, and, like many Southerners, gained a theoretical understanding of the concept of cold. But the mind is an overprotective parent. What it doesn't care for, it hides. Like many inhabiting the subtropics, Anne had repressed the reality of subzero mercury. 
— Kathy Reichs, Monday Mourning
The past was like a bad dream; the future was all happy holiday as I moved Southwards week by week, easily, lazily, lingering as long as I dared, but always heeding the call!
— Kenneth Grahame, The Wind in the Willows
It snowed all week. Wheels and footsteps moved soundlessly on the street, as if the business of living continued secretly behind a pale but impenetrable curtain. In the falling quiet there was no sky or earth, only snow lifting in the wind, frosting the window glass, chilling the rooms, deadening and hushing the city. At all hours it was necessary to keep a lamp lighted, and Mrs. Miller lost track of the days: Friday was no different from Saturday and on Sunday she went to the grocery: closed, of course.
— Truman Capote, American Fantastic Tales: Terror and the Uncanny from the 1940's Until Now
On that walk around the building, two sets of cops coming out stopped to tell our guys to hustle us inside so they could head back out on the road. Accidents everywhere. A pileup oneach of two major roads. “Welcome to winter,” one said. “When fifty percent of drivers should have their licenses temporarily suspended.
— Kelley Armstrong, Dangerous
Winter came in days that were gray and still. They were the kind of days in which people locked in their animals and themselves and nothing seemed to stir but the smoke curling upwards from clay chimneys and an occasional red-winged blackbird which refused to be grounded. And it was cold. Not the windy cold like Uncle Hammer said swept the northern winter, but a frosty, idle cold that seeped across a hot land ever lookung toward the days of green and ripening fields, a cold thay lay uneasy during during its short stay as it crept through the cracks of poorly constucted houses and forced the people inside huddled around ever-burning fires to wish it gone.
— Mildred D. Taylor, Let the Circle Be Unbroken
One can follow the sun, of course, but I have always thought that it is best to know some winter, too, so that the summer, when it arrives, is the more gratefully received.
— Beatriz Williams, Along the Infinite Sea
I'm going to make it a law that the correct way to address your sovereign is my giving a high five.' Kai's smiled brightened. 'That's genius. Me too.
— Marissa Meyer, Winter
Are ye the ghosts of fallen leaves, O flakes of snow, For which, through naked trees, the winds A-mourning go?
— John B. Tabb
March came in that winter like the meekest and mildest of lambs, bringing days that were crisp and golden and tingling, each followed by a frosty pink twilight which gradually lost itself in an elfland of moonshine.
— L.M. Montgomery
Winter lies too long in country towns; hangs on until it is stale and shabby, old and sullen.
— Willa Cather, My Ántonia
I'll be safe and happy when I'm no longer afraid of my own mind.
— Marissa Meyer, Winter
...as the slow sea sucked at the shore and then withdrew, leaving the strip of seaweed bare and the shingle churned, the sea birds raced and ran upon the beaches. Then that same impulse to flight seized upon them too. Crying, whistling, calling, they skimmed the placid sea and left the shore. Make haste, make speed, hurry and begone; yet where, and to what purpose? The restless urge of autumn, unsatisfying, sad, had put a spell upon them and they must flock, and wheel, and cry; they must spill themselves of motion before winter came.
— Daphne du Maurier, The Birds and Other Stories
Crazy loves company, Sir Clay.
— Marissa Meyer, Winter
In honor of October, really just hours away now.....Brew me a cup for a winter's night.For the wind howls loud and the furies fight;Spice it with love and stir it with care,And I'll toast our bright eyes,my sweetheart fair.
— Minna Thomas Antrim
A few feathery flakes are scattered widely through the air, and hover downward with uncertain flight, now almost alighting on the earth, now whirled again aloft into remote regions of the atmosphere.
— Nathaniel Hawthorne
Gripped with bitter cold, ice-locked, Petersburg burned in delirium. One knew: out there, invisible behind the curtain of fog, the red and yellow columns, spires, and hoary gates and fences crept on tiptoe, creaking and shuffling. A fevered, impossible, icy sun hung in the fog - to the left, to the right, above, below - a dove over a house on fire. From the delirium-born, misty world, dragon men dived up into the earthly world, belched fog - heard in the misty world as words, but here becoming nothing - round white puffs of smoke. The dragon men dived up and disappeared again into the fog. And trolleys rushed screeching out of the earthly world into the unknown. ("The Dragon")
— Yevgeny Zamyatin, The Dragon: Fifteen Stories
She smiled as she poured tea into his cup. “I hope you find your rooms comfortable?”“Quite.” He took a too-hasty sip of tea and scalded his tongue.“The view is to your liking?”He had a view of a brick wall. “Indeed.”She fluttered her eyelashes at him over the rim of her teacup. “And the bed. Is it soft and… yielding?”He nearly choked on the bite of cake he’d just taken.“Or do you prefer a firmer bed?” she asked sweetly. “One that refuses to yield too soon?”“I think”—he narrowed his eyes at her—“whatever mattress I have on the bed you gave me is perfect. But tell me, my lady, what sort of mattress do you prefer? All soft goose down or one that’s a bit… harder?”It was very fast, but he saw it: Her gaze flashed down to the juncture of his thighs and then up again. If there hadn’t been anything to see there before, there certainly was now.“Oh, I like a nice stiff mattress,” she purred. “Well warmed and ready for a long ride.
— Elizabeth Hoyt, Thief of Shadows
It looks like something out of Whittier's "Snowbound,"' Julia said. Julia could always think of things like that to say.
— Maud Hart Lovelace, Betsy and Tacy Go Downtown
When icicles hang by the wall, And Dick the shepherd blows his nail,And Tom bears logs into the hall, And milk comes frozen home in pail, When blood is nipp'd, and ways be foul,Then nightly sings the staring owl, To-whit! To-who!—a merry note, While greasy Joan doth keel the pot. When all aloud the wind doe blow,And coughing drowns the parson's saw, And birds sit brooding in the snow, And Marian's nose looks red and raw, When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl, Then nightly sings the staring owl,To-whit! To-who!—a merry note, While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.
— William Shakespeare, Love's Labour's Lost
It hardly mattered. She was tired of waiting for him to acknowledge who he was. Tired of donning a false mask of gaiety when she was so much more—felt so much more—beneath. No one had ever noticed her mask. No one but him. If he couldn’t or wouldn’t make the first move, then damn it, she would.
— Elizabeth Hoyt, Thief of Shadows
The day, a compunctious Sunday after a week of blizzards, had been part jewel, part mud. In the midst of my usual afternoon stroll through the small hilly town attached to the girls' college where I taught French literature, I had stopped to watch a family of brilliant icicles drip-dripping from the eaves of a frame house. So clear-cut were their pointed shadows on the white boards behind them that I was sure the shadows of the falling drops should be visible too. But they were not. ("The Vane Sisters")
— Vladimir Nabokov, American Fantastic Tales: Terror and the Uncanny from the 1940's Until Now
People say the beach is the great equaliserWho are they kidding?Sit at Bondi and watch the boys flexAnd the girls walk bolt uprightIt looks like a nightmare episode of Baywatch.The true equaliser is the mountain coldAnd stacks of cold flung togetherMaybe then we’d listen to what each other is sayingInstead of checking out the best bods.And as I wrap another layerAround my Size 10I think of Jack’s favourite saying:“today’s tan is tomorrow’s cancer”I walk outsideAnd whistle at the wind.
— Steven Herrick, Kissing Annabel: Love, Ghosts, and Facial Hair; A Place Like This
Song falls silent, music is dumb,But the air burns with their fragrance,And white winter, on its knees,Observes everything with reverent attention.
— Anna Akhmatova, The Complete Poems of Anna Akhmatova
In winter the very ground seemed to reach up and grab the elderly, yanking them to earth as though hungry for them.
— Louise Penny, Bury Your Dead
She gasped again and opened blue eyes lit with erotic mischief. “Are you trying to steal the reins from me?”Even with his penis buried deep within her, even moments from climax, he arched an eyebrow. “You have them only by my permission.
— Elizabeth Hoyt, Thief of Shadows
Withstanding the cold develops vigor for the relaxing days of spring and summer. Besides, in this matter as in many others, it is evident that nature abhors a quitter.
— Arthur C. Crandall, New England Joke Lore: The Tonic of Yankee Humor
Honest Winter, snow-clad, and with the frosted beard, I can welcome not uncordially; But that long deferment of the calendar's promise, that weeping gloom of March and April, that bitter blast outraging the honour of May how often has it robbed me of heart and hope?
— George Gissing
The winter will be long and bleak. Nature has a dismal aspect.
— Charles Nodier
A wet autumn morning, a garbage truck clattering down the street. The first snowfall of the season, blossom sized flakes falling languidly and melting on teh ground, a premature snow fall delicate as lace, rapidly melting.
— Joyce Carol Oates
He'd shoved his toque and mitts into the sleeve of his parka when he'd come in the night before, and now, thrusting his right arm into the armhole, he hit the blockage. At a practiced shove the pompom of the toque crowned the cuff followed by his mitts, like a tiny birth.
— Louise Penny, A Fatal Grace
Standing by the frozen glass, he stared down at the icy, barely lit streets running towards the river Seine, the bell-clanging local church, then to the sky like black lead. ("Israbel")
— Tanith Lee, Best New Horror 16
This twinned twinkle was delightful but not completely satisfying; or rather it only sharpened my appetite for other tidbits of light and shade, and I walked on in a state of raw awareness that seemed to transform the whole of my being into one big eyeball rolling in the world's socket.Through peacocked lashes I saw the dazzling diamond reflection of the low sun on the round back of a parked automobile. To all kinds of things a vivid pictorial sense had been restored by the sponge of the thaw. Water in overlapping festoons flowed down one sloping street and turned gracefully into another. With ever so slight a note of meretricious appeal, narrow passages between buildings revealed treasures of brick and purple. I remarked for the first time the humble fluting - last echoes of grooves on the shafts of columns - ornamenting a garbage can, and I also saw the rippling upon its lid - circles diverging from a fantastically ancient center. Erect, dark-headed shapes of dead snow (left by the blades of a bulldozer last Friday) were lined up like rudimentary penguins along the curbs, above the brilliant vibration of live gutters. I walked up, and I walked down, and I walked straight into a delicately dying sky, and finally the sequence of observed and observant things brought me, at my usual eating time, to a street so distant from my usual eating place that I decided to try a restaurant which stood on the fringe of the town. Night had fallen without sound or ceremony when I came out again. ("The Vane Sisters")
— Vladimir Nabokov, American Fantastic Tales: Terror and the Uncanny from the 1940's Until Now
He came back to the car, long legs lifting high in the snow, and there was snow in his hair and on his eyelashes and I remembered that I love him. It felt like something breaking with a little pain and spilling warm.
— Thomas Harris, Red Dragon
Perhpas if I call out to Rat he might hear," said the Mole to himself, but without much hope.Rat! Ratty! O Rat, please hear me!" he called out as loudly as he could, holding up his lantern as he did so, waving it about/ But the wind rushed and roared around him even more, and snatched his weak words away the moment they were they were uttered, and scattered them wildly and uselessly as if they were flakes of snow,Even worse, the light of the lantern began to gutter, and then, quiet suddenly, an extra strong gust of wind blew it out.Well then," said the daunted but resolute Mole, putting the spent lantern on the ground, "there's nothing else for it! Frozen rivers are dangerous thinngs, no doubt, but I must try to cross, despite the dangers."--The Willows in the Winter
— William Horwood
Pet,’ Brutus repeated. ‘Bitch.’ ‘Don’t be offended,’ I said. ‘He calls everyone that.’ I winked at Brutus
— Helen Harper, Slouch Witch
Khione’s eyes flared pure white. For once, she seemed at a loss for words. She stormed back up the stairs—literally. Halfway up, she turned into a blizzard and disappeared.
— Rick Riordan, The Lost Hero
I know that you are my guard, and you are my best friend. I know you would die for me. And I know that should that ever happen, I would die immediately after.
— Marissa Meyer, Winter
I was alone, with a stranger, inside the walls of a dark palace, in a strange snow-changed city, in the heart of the Ice Age of an alien world.
— Ursula K. Le Guin, The Left Hand of Darkness
Dark nights are unpleasant," "Yes, for strangers to travel,""The clouds are heavy.""Yes, a storm is approaching.
— Arthur Conan Doyle, The Valley of Fear
Love is like a season,it ebbs and it flows,sometimes we're like Summer, Fall and Winter,but it's Spring that I long to know.
— Anthony T Hincks
She remembered perching on the sill of her bedroom window with the pane opened a crack so she could let the winter in, and she remembered letting it sting her nose and wash over her until she was shivering and blue.
— Meagan Spooner, Hunted
Do I have permission to take control of you first? Just your bodies, not your minds.""I've been waiting for you to admit you wanted my body.
— Marissa Meyer, Winter
You think winter will never end, and then, when you don't expect it, when you have almost forgotten it, warmth comes and a different light.
— Wendell Berry, Hannah Coulter
Look back upon winter with gratitude. Spring is the harvest of the darker months—everything you know starts to grow in darkness. Don't write and tell me that winter brought you only colds or the ubiquitous virus. Perhaps it did bring those (and to me as well). Who goes through the chilly months unscathed? But it also brought things not to be forgotten—silver moons and snow, brilliant under stars; it brought Christmas and a new year, and to each of us something happy, something unexpected, which was not another problem but a joy. For the pendulum swings; nothing is static; and the road, however long, does turn.
— Faith Baldwin, Harvest of Hope
The tunnel of winter had settled over our lives, ushered in by that great official Hoodwink, the end of daylight saving time. Personally I would vote for one more hour of light on winter evenings instead of the sudden, extra-early blackout. Whose idea was it to jilt us this way, leaving us in cold November with our unsaved remnants of daylight petering out before the workday ends? In my childhood, as early as that, I remember observing the same despair every autumn: the feeling that sunshine, summertime, and probably life itself had passed me by before I'd even finished a halfway decent tree fort. But mine is not to question those who command the springing forward and the falling back. I only vow each winter to try harder to live like a potato, with its tacit understanding that time is time, no matter what any clock might say. I get through the hibernation months by hovering as close as possible to the woodstove without actual self-immolation, and catching up on my reading, cheered at regular intervals by the excess of holidays that collect in a festive logjam at the outflow end of our calendar.
— Barbara Kingsolver, Animal, Vegetable, Miracle: A Year of Food Life
Officially it was almost spring but someone had forgotten to pass the news on to winter.
— Robert   Harris, Enigma
Winter walks up and down the town swinging his censer, but no smoke or sweetness comes from it, only the sour, metallic frankness of salt and snow.
— Mary Oliver, Upstream: Selected Essays
It was winter, and a night of bitter cold. The snow lay thick upon the ground, and upon the branches of the trees: the frost kept snapping the little twigs on either side of them, as they passed: and when they came to the Mountain-Torrent she was hanging motionless in air, for the Ice-King had kissed her.
— Oscar Wilde, The Star-Child and Other Tales
Tinkling sounds came from outside, of hammering and chiselling, as labourers worked like bees, and seven- or eight-storeyed buildings rose in the place of ancestral mansions that had been razed cruelly to the ground, climbing up like ladders through screens of dust. An old mansion opposite the veranda had been repainted white, to its last banister and pillar, so that it looked like a set of new teeth. ... In another sphere altogether, birds took off from a tree or parapet, or the roof of some rich Marwari’s house, startling and speckling the neutral sky. Not a moment was still or like another moment. In a window in a servants’ outhouse attached to a mansion – both the master’s house and the servants’ lost in a bond now anachronistic and buried – a light shone even at this time of the day, beacon of winter.
— Amit Chaudhuri, Freedom Song
In this summer heat, I must remember that the realest things are the closest and farthest away, like the warmth found in winter: the heat hidden in the folds of one's coat, a lost floating breath, a kiss across the distance of zero degrees.
— Meia Geddes
Winter is going ,but who knows spring will come or not !
— Ali Rezavand Zayeri
Winter passed, suns and moons, and in the heat of summer each tree leaned across the stream and enmeshed its young foliage with the crown of its brother. More summers, more winters, more suns and moons, and the two had grown together, their great trunks fused, the stream parting now to flow round them.
— Harper Fox, Brothers of the Wild North Sea
After the war of course it will be like the start of spring, which is always so brilliantly sudden. The leaves will burst back onto the trees and close the gaps between the branches and we shall be startled - shan't we? - s we are startled at the end of every winter. We shall think: oh, I had quite forgotten there were three livable seasons.
— Chris Cleave, Everyone Brave is Forgiven
I love the scent of winter. I love the scent of winter enough to suffer the cold for it.
— Tiffany Reisz, The Scent of Winter
...the book had been written with winter nights in mind. Without a doubt, it was a book for when the birds had flown south, the wood was stacked by the fireplace, and the fields were white with snow; that is, for when one had no desire to venture out and one's friends had no desire to venture in.
— Amor Towles, A Gentleman in Moscow
At this season of the year, darkness is a more insistent thing than cold. The days are short as any dream.
— E.B. White, Essays of E.B. White
I could feel the bite of the autumn air, warning us all of the harsh winter that was on its way.
— Jennifer Starzec, Determination
There were, in Feo's experience, five kinds of cold. There was wind cold, which Feo barely felt. It was fussy and loud and turned your cheeks as red as if you'd been slapped, but couldn't kill you even if it tried. There was snow cold, which plucked at your arms and chapped your lips, but brought real rewards. It was Feo's favorite weather: The snow was soft and good for making snow wolves. There was ice cold, which might take the skin off your palm if you let it, but probably wouldn't if you were careful. Ice cold smelled sharp and knowing. It often came with blue skies and was good for skating. Feo had respect for ice cold. Then there was hard cold, which was when the ice cold got deeper and deeper until at the end of a month you couldn't remember if the summer had ever really existed. Hard cold could be cruel. Birds died in midflight. It was the kind of cold that you booted and kicked your way through.And then there was blind cold. Blind cold smelled of metal and granite. It took all the sense out of your brain and blew the snow into your eyes until they were glued shut and you had to rub spit into them before they would blink. Blind cold was forty degrees below zero. This was the kind of cold that you didn't sit down to think in, unless you wanted to be found dead in the same place in May or June.Feo had felt blind cold only once.
— Katherine Rundell, The Wolf Wilder
When I got home, my roof was gone. Overnight the weight of the snow became too much to carry. What tipped the scale? Think about it: there must have been a final snowflake that did it, a fraction of a fraction of a fraction of a milligram that made all the difference.
— Lauren Oliver, Rooms
Silence can always be broken by the sound Of footsteps walking over frozen groundIn winter when the melancholy treesStand abject and let their branches freeze 
— Merrill Moore, Illegitimate Sonnets
He also said to tell you that Wolf misses you very much.
— Marissa Meyer, Winter
As a kid, snow served the useful purpose of closing schools. As an adult—it shuts down any activity a decent, suntanned person over the age of thirty-five enjoys. I don’t do snow forts, snowballs, snow angels, snowmen, snowmobiles, or snowshoes. I don’t like to walk in it, drive in it, ski on it, or sled on it. Other than that, snow is just ducky.
— Michael Holbrook, Sublimity's Treasure: A Tale of Peculiar Findings, Discovery, & Hope
The moods he's shown me have all been vastly different...as different as summer and winter, sometimes with fall between them.
— Kayla Krantz, The Council
Winter, I wrote, was akin to living inside a refrigerator.
— Okey Ndibe, Never Look an American in the Eye: A Memoir of Flying Turtles, Colonial Ghosts, and the Making of a Nigerian American
Winter is a time to pause, reflect and renew for the coming Spring.
— Eileen Anglin
It is deep January. The sky is hard.The stalks are firmly rooted in ice.It is in this solitude, a syllable,Out of these gawky flitterings,Intones its single emptiness,The savagest hollow of winter-sound.
— Wallace Stevens
Thorne cleared his throat. "We need to get back to the house. We've already risked drawing enough attention, and she..." He looked at Winter. There was an edge to his expression, like he didn't trust anyone who was more attractive than he was. "...will definitely draw attention.
— Marissa Meyer, Winter
All day the storm lasted. The windows were white and the wind never stopped howling and screaming. It was pleasant in the warm house. Laura and Mary did their lessons, then Pa played the fiddle while Ma rocked and knitted, and bean soup simmered on the stove. All night the storm lasted, and all the next day. Fire-light danced out of the stove's draught, and Pa told stories and played the fiddle.
— Laura Ingalls Wilder, On the Banks of Plum Creek
For London, Blampied claimed, was of all cities in the world the most autumnal —its mellow brickwork harmonizing with fallen leaves and October sunsets, just as the etched grays of November composed themselves with the light and shade of Portland stone. There was a charm, a deathless charm, about a city whose inhabitants went about muttering, "The nights are drawing in," as if it were a spell to invoke the vast, sprawling creature-comfort of winter.
— James Hilton, Random Harvest
We were letting go of October, relinquishing color,readying ourselves for streets lacquered with ice,the town closed like a walnut, locked inside the cold.
— Mark Perlberg, The Impossible Toystore
Wind blew snow crystals back and forth between the graves. The ancient pines creaked overhead.
— Mike Bond, Killing Maine
Winter, spring, and summer, passed away during my labours; but I did not watch the blossoms or the expanding leaves — sights which before always yielded me supreme delight, so deeply was I engrossed in my occupation.
— Gris Grimly, Gris Grimly's Frankenstein
Real Canada is where people wear sweaters for survival, not style.
— Mark Leiren-Young, Never Shoot a Stampede Queen: A Rookie Reporter in the Cariboo
Winter is icummen in,Lhude sing Goddamm,Raineth drop and staineth slopAnd how the wind doth ramm!Sing: Goddamm.Skiddeth bus and sloppeth us,An ague hath my ham.Freezeth river, turneth liverDamn you, sing: Goddamm.Goddamm, Goddamm, tis why I am,Goddamm.So 'gainst the winter's balmSing Goddamm, damm, sing GoddammSing Goddamm, sing Goddamm,DAMM.
— Ezra Pound
I've forgotten about these things all winter, but here they are again, and when I see them I remember them, I know them, I greet them as if they are home.
— Margaret Atwood, Cat's Eye
Moment by moment, in life's winter, life frozeEchoing a history of blues, a milestone roseFrom A Farewell A welcome
— Sandeep N Tripathi
By December an elastic skin of ice reached out hundreds of miles into the sea, rolling with every wave.
— Will Chancellor, A Brave Man Seven Storeys Tall
My stepmother is not only powerful because the people fear her, she is powerful because she can make them love her when she needs them to. We think that if we choose to do only good, then we are only good. We can make people happy. We can offer tranquility or contentment or love, and that must be good. We do not see the falsehood becoming its own brand of cruelty.”The ship trembled and their speed increased. Luna blurred beneath them.“Once,” Winter continued, pushing the words out of her lungs. “Once I believed with all my heart that I was doing good. But I was wrong.
— Marissa Meyer, Winter
Caught in the doldrums of August we may have regretted the departing summer, having sighed over the vanished strawberries and all that they signified. Now, however, we look forward almost eagerly to winter's approach. We forget the fogs, the slush, the sore throats an the price of coal, we think only of long evenings by lamplight, of the books which we are really going to read this time, of the bright shop windows and the keen edge of the early frosts.
— Denis Mackail, Greenery Street
pg. 301--"Saturday the weather couldn't decide if it was ready to fully entertain winter or if we were still stuck in the fall."pg.349--"...winter showed up in an angry, punishing fury...
— W. Bruce Cameron, Emory's Gift
Each February/March the entire country takes a "ski week". The schools shut down, parents take off work, dogs go to the in-laws, and Finland's middle and upper classes go on holiday. But not all at once. They can't have the entire country gandala-ing up to Lapland at one time (AVALANCHES!). So the country takes turns. The best region goes first: Southern Finland. Then the second best: Central Finland. Then the reindeer herders and forest people take a week off from unemployment and go last: Northern Finland.
— Phil Schwarzmann, How to Marry a Finnish Girl
The inherent mystery itself: that elusive brightness that flows out of dreams; the brightness that, when we awaken, is already fading from our minds—I still pursued it almost every morning, in spite of my many hours of tortured sleep.
— Diane B. Saxton