“For mankind you've made your wintry bed. A shipwreck of your own mortality” — Marie Symeou Copy Share Image
“Over the wintry forest, winds howl in rage with no leaves to blow.” — Natsume Sōseki Copy Share Image
There is nothing better on a cold wintry day than a properly made pot pie. — Craig Claiborne Copy Share Image
Wintry Wishes. May this season bring you the gifts of peace, hope and joy. — Anonymous Copy Share Image
Chill air and wintry winds! My ear has grown familiar with your song; I hear it in the opening year, I listen,… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
“Wolf Star shines on wintry high; Gazing northward by and by. Ice and snow on shorelines lie; Wind and spirits haunt the… — F.T. McKinstry Copy Share Image
“No warmth could warm, no wintry weather chill him. No wind that blew was bitterer than he, no falling snow was more… — Charles Dickens Copy Share Image
“There was a strong sense of being alone, in wintry deadness. Nothing made sense in any direction.” — Donna Tartt Copy Share Image
Part of you died each year when the leaves fell from the trees and their branches were bare against the wind and… — Ernest Hemingway Copy Share Image
“It was a short, cold Christmas; and as the short northern day merged into night, we found ourselves almost broad upon the… — Herman Melville Copy Share Image
The wind is tossing the lilacs, The new leaves laugh in the sun, And the petals fall on the orchard wall, But… — Sara Teasdale Copy Share Image
At last the anchor was up, the sails were set, and off we glided. It was a sharp, cold Christmas; and as… — Herman Melville Copy Share Image
“We grew in age—and love—together, Roaming the forest, and the wild; My breast her shield in wintry weather— And, when the friendly… — Edgar Allan Poe Copy Share Image
“At last the anchor was up, the sails were set, and off we glided. It was a short, cold Christmas; and as… — Herman Melville Copy Share Image
Not only is the day waning, but the year. The low sun is fiery and yet cold behind the monastery ruin, and… — Charles Dickens Copy Share Image
A Christmas frost had come at midsummer; a white December storm had whirled over June; ice glazed the ripe apples, drifts crushed… — Charlotte Bronte Copy Share Image
