Snow falling soundlessly in the middle of the night will…

Overall, the library held a hushed exultation, as though the cherished volumes were all singing soundlessly within their covers.

— Diana Gabaldon

Soundlessly whispering into the void, my lips moving quickly, silently, without ceasing. Calling his name, calling him to me. Even though there's no use.…

— Alyson Noel

Advice is like snow - the softer it falls, the longer it dwells upon, and the deeper in sinks into the mind. Samuel Taylor…

— Novala Takemoto

“Krisztina played the song. It was a lament made of eight notes, repeated. It was an empty melody. It sounded elemental too; it made…

— Simon Avery

“Snow falling in the woods when there’s no wind is the most peaceful thing I’ve ever seen.”

— John Jerome

His soul swooned slowly as he heard the snow falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, like the descent of their last end,…

— James Joyce

Snow was falling, so much like stars filling the dak trees that one could easily imagine its reason for being was nothing more the…

— Mary Oliver

When you love a city and have explored it frequently on foot, your body, not to mention your soul, gets to know the streets…

— Orhan Pamuk

Inside the snow globe on my father's desk, there was a penguin wearing a red-and-white-striped scarf. When I was little my father would pull…

— Alice Sebold

“Huge, dizzying, clumps and clusters of snow falling through the air, patches of white against an iron-gray sky, snow that touches your tongue with…

— Neil Gaiman

As I write, snow is falling outside my Maine window, and indoors all around me half a hundred garden catalogues are in bloom.

— Katharine Sergeant Angell White

“And the mist of snow, as he had foreseen, was still on it - a ghost of snow falling in the bright sunlight, softly…

— Conrad Aiken

“That kind of empty; when hope is no longer deferred but evaporated, and try as you might, and you do try, you can't find…

— Binnie Kirshenbaum

Dandelion wine. The words were summer on the tongue. The wine was summer caught and stoppered...sealed away for opening on a January day with…

— Ray Bradbury

Silently, like thoughts that come and go, the snowflakes fall, each one a gem.

— William Hamilton Gibson