#winter

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. ↗

— Agnetha Faltskog

#behind #child #cut #even #feeling

Pretty it's pretty good for me because I'm over here in the winters. It's really improved my golf game. ↗

— Peter Forsberg

#game #golf #golf game #good #here

Of course, the outcome of the war would not have been changed. The war was lost perhaps, when it was started. At least it was lost in the winter of '42, in Russia. ↗

— Adolf Galland

#changed #course #least #lost #outcome

As the winter set in with its customary Canadian severity the real trouble of the French began. They did not suffer from the cold, but they were dying of scurvy. ↗

— Harry Johnston

#canadian #cold #customary #did #dying

I'd studied dance in Chicago every summer end taught it all winter, and I was well-rounded. I wasn't worried about getting a job on Broadway. In fact, I got one the first week. ↗

— Gene Kelly

#broadway #chicago #dance #end #every

I grew up in New Hampshire. My closest neighbor was a mile away. The deer and the raccoons were my friends. So I would spend time walking through the woods, looking for the most beautiful tropical thing that can survive the winter in the woods in New Hampshire. ↗

— Steven Tyler

#beautiful #closest #deer #friends #grew

What happened?" he asked brusquely, interrupting me. "What do you mean, what happened?" "I sensed your fear, heard you call out my name." "I...no, I didn't." Stone Wall, I told myself. Great Wall of China, around my thoughts. "The Great Wall of China isn't going to do it, Violet. Come on, tell me what happened. ↗

— Kristi Cook

#funny #haven #humour #violet #winterhaven

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

#seasonal #winter #beauty

The elk that you glimpse in the summer, those at the forest edge, are survivors of winter, only the strongest. You see one just before dusk that summer, standing at the perimeter of the meadow so it can step back to the forest and vanish. You can't help imagining the still, frozen nights behind it, so cold that the slightest motion is monumental. I have found their bodies, half drifted over in snow, no sign of animal attack or injury. Just toppled over one night with ice working into their lungs. You wouldn't want to stand outside for more than a few minutes in that kind of weather. If you lived through only one of those winters the way this elk has, you would write books about it. You would become a shaman. You would be forever changed. That elk from the winter stands there on the summer evening, watching from beside the forest. It keeps its story to itself. ↗

— Craig Childs

#elk #nature #winter #change

No winter lasts forever; no spring skips its turn. ↗

— Hal Borland

#lasts #skips #spring #turn #winter