Winter Quotes
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In general, just as a framing, we always thought about 'Winter Soldier' very specifically as a political thriller.
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It had been so long since anyone had made her feel fluttery. It felt like winter sunshine – something to be savored because it surely wouldn’t last.
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My granny would come out and stay with us in the winter, and we would listen to the reports from the coastal stations and have a discussion in the middle of Glasgow about what the weather was like in Tiree.
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New York in spring and autumn is absolutely beautiful, but the winter is absolutely depressing.
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In the Arctic, the Inuit are saying water and land are the same; they're an unbroken unity. In the winter, you travel on the ice because it's the linkage and the easiest way, and in the summer, you move around on the water.
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I'm not a huge L.A. fan, but I go there for the winter every year. We usually rent a house and have massive house parties.
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Global trade has advantages. For starters, it allows those of us who live through winter to eat fresh produce year-round. And it provides economic benefits to farmers who grow that food.
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I would do violence for one glimpse of your naked breasts. Bleed for one taste of your nipple on my tongue.
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Seems like the cold would never go away and winter would be like the bottom of my feet but then it is gone in one night and in its place comes the sun so large and laughable.
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Sometimes, you need to revamp yourself over the winter, participate in things that make you appreciate what you have.
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How many lessons of faith and beauty we should lose, if there were no winter in our year!
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My first real acting gig was probably playing Mamillius in my mother's 'Winter's Tale.' My mom and dad are both in theater, so I grew up acting and being a little theater brat as well.
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When I climb a fourteener, a 14,000-foot/4,260-meter peak, in the winter by myself, I leave an itinerary and information about where my vehicle will be parked and the name of the county sheriff to contact in case I don't get home.
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The nice thing about New York is that you're finally able to wear those winter clothes that have been sitting in your closet in mothballs.
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I've done a lot of work in the gym preparing myself for what is certain to be pretty strenuous pre-season training - something I've not previously experienced. And I knocked local football on the head this winter, simply to ensure I didn't pick up any injuries.
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I played hockey in the winter, and then I would play golf in the summer. But I always knew I'd be a golfer.
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So burrow in. Snuggle deep. A winter idyll of simple splendor awaits.
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If eternity had a season, it would be midsummer. Autumn, winter, spring are all change and passage, but at the height of summer the year stands poised. It's only a passing moment, but even as it passes the heart knows it cannot change.
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When I encountered rich people for the first time, I discovered that not only do they holiday in places that are hard to find on a map, but that they also use the names of seasons as verbs. When they asked me, 'Where did you summer and winter growing up?' I would usually say, 'As a child? The same place I springed and autumned.'
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For families flying out of the U.K. for a winter getaway, airports should be the ideal place to pick up a bargain.
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A little rule, a little sway,A sunbeam in a winter’s day,Is all the proud and mighty haveBetween the cradle and the grave.
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But I will wear white - the whitest white! - purest most pristine white! - through the dark terrible days of winter - as no man of our time will ever dare.
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We are all treading the vanishing road of a song in the air, the vanishing road of the spring flowers and the winter snows, the vanishing roads of the winds and the streams, the vanishing road of beloved faces.
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Whiles in the early Winter eve We pass amid the gathering night Some homestead that we had to leave Years past; and see its candles bright Shine in the room beside the door Where we were merry years agone But now must never enter more, As still the dark road drives us on. E'en so the world of men may turn At even of some hurried day And see the ancient glimmer burn Across the waste that hath no way; Then with that faint light in its eyes A while I bid it linger near And nurse in wavering memories The bitter-sweet of days that were.
