Quotations About / On:
Extreme seasons like winter and summer are dangerous for children and the decrepit, but spring season is dangerous for the youth.
(to my students)
The birds, sunlight and grasses on the ground are calling for spring after the cold and dark winter.
(Just wishing for spring to come soon. Just tired of the cold, rain and long nights.
Just wishing for longer days than long nights; just calling for spring...)
Cold winter and hot summer! Being part of nature.
In the great cities, winter glitters with art and feasting. But poetry, the country cousin, sees only the dearth of the fields.
(Mason Cooley (b. 1927), U.S. aphorist. City Aphorisms, New York (1984).)
Often in winter the end of the day is like the final metaphor in a poem celebrating death: there is no way out.
(Agustin Gomez-Arcos (b. 1939), Spanish author. A Bird Burned Alive, ch. 1 (1988).)
The winter is to a woman of fashion what, of yore, a campaign was to the soldiers of the Empire.
(Honoré De Balzac (1799-1850), French novelist. In The Works of Honoré de Balzac, vol. IV, trans. by George Saintsbury (1971). Narrator, in The Imaginary Mistress, original title La fausse maötresse, in Le Siècle (December, 1831).)
France has neither winter nor summer nor moralsapart from these drawbacks it is a fine country.
(Mark Twain [Samuel Langhorne Clemens] (1835-1910), U.S. author. Mark Twain's Notebooks and Journals, entry in notebook 18, vol. 2, ed. Frederick Anderson (1975).)
I'm your wife, damn it. And if you can't work up a winter passion for me, the least I require is respect and allegiance.
(Paddy Chayefsky (1923-1981), U.S. author, screenwriter, and Sidney Lumet. Louise (Beatrice Straight), Network, to her husband (1976).)
Our [British] summers are often, though beautiful for verdure, so cold, that they are rather cold winters.
(Horace Walpole (1717-1797), British author. Horace Walpole's Miscellany 1786-1795, p. 52, ed. Lars E. Troide, Yale University Press (1978).
Originally written in 1787.)
Country acquaintances are charming only in the country and only in the summer. In the city in winter they lose half of their appeal.
(Anton Pavlovich Chekhov (1860-1904), Russian author, playwright. narrator in The Story of Mme. NN, Works, vol. 6, p. 452, "Nauka" (1976).)