quotations about snow
All night, snow.
Open the window,
stretch my arms out.
Keep my eyes open
in the white, whipping wind.
There are few cars on the highway.
The river's frozen in places.
In a city that never stops,
I can hardly hear anything.
For tonight, the city gives me
what I need.
CORDELIA JENSEN
Skyscraping
We drive on salted highways
In our warm automobiles
We laugh and play with snow
We've lost our fear of winter
Life goes on well protected
Ice and snow, ice and snow
SPOONS
"Smiling in Winter"
Snow is ... like a bed over the land. Mattress thick and layered with soft cotton sheets and rumpled comforters. But this bed sleeps on us.
SEAN HURLEY
"Twenty Ways to Think About ... Snow", NHPR, December 16, 2016
God gives to the silent snow a voice, and clothes its innocence and weakness with a power like His own.
CAROLINE LUCRETIA HERSCHEL
attributed, Day's Collacon
First snow down you dart
Cold as the winter, cold as my heart
Fall from the sky, please tell me why
I let her go and lost her first snow
PHIL OCHS
"First Snow"
Snows are a falling on Douglas Mountain
Snows are a falling so deep
Snows are a falling on Douglas Mountain
Putting all the bears to sleep
RAFFI
"Douglas Mountain"
It snowed last year too: I made a snowman and my brother knocked it down and I knocked my brother down and then we had tea.
DYLAN THOMAS
A Child's Christmas in Wales
Snow is ... one part moonlight, one part wind.
SEAN HURLEY
"Twenty Ways to Think About ... Snow", NHPR, December 16, 2016
I'm just a snowman, lookin' for a snow girl.
R. KELLY
"Snowman"
I dropped in to see her there was a big round moon
Her mother said she just stepped out but would be returning soon
I found her little footprints and I traced them in the snow
I found her when the snow was on the ground
Now she's up in heaven she's with the angel band
I know I'm going to meet her in that promised land
But every time the snow falls it brings back memories
For I found her when the snow was on the ground
BILL MONROE
"Footprints in the Snow"
Snow not falling but flying sidewise, and sudden, not signaled by the slow curdling of clouds all day and a flake or two drifting downward, but rushing forward all at once as though sent for.... And filling up the world's concavities, pillowing up in the gloaming, making night light with its whiteness, and then falling still in every one's dreams, falling for pages and pages...
JOHN CROWLEY
Novelty
Through the sharp air a flaky torrent flies,
Mocks the slow sight, and hides the gloomy skies;
The fleecy clouds their chilly bosoms bare,
And shed their substance on the floating air.
GEORGE CRABBE
Inebriety
A little snow, tumbled about, anon becomes a mountain.
WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE
King John
O the snow, the beautiful snow,
Filling the sky and earth below;
Over the house-tops, over the street,
Over the heads of the people you meet,
Dancing, flirting, skimming along.
JAMES W. WATSON
Beautiful Snow
The snow began to fall again, drifting against the windows, politely begging entrance and then falling with disappointment to the ground.
JAMIE MCGUIRE
Beautiful Disaster
The trouble with the last snowfall of the season is that you can't be sure.
DOUG LARSON
attributed, Reader's Digest, 1998
Nature has many tricks wherewith she convinces man of his finity--the ceaseless flow of the tides, the fury of the storm, the shock of the earthquake, the long roll of heaven's artillery--but the most tremendous, the most stupefying of all, is the passive phase of the White Silence. All movement ceases, the sky clears, the heavens are as brass; the slightest whisper seems sacrilege, and man becomes timid, affrighted at the sound of his own voice. Sole speck of life journeying across the ghostly wastes of a dead world, he trembles at his audacity, realizes that his is a maggot's life, nothing more. Strange thoughts arise unsummoned, and the mystery of all things strives for utterance. And the fear of death, of God, of the universe comes over him--the hope of the Resurrection and the Life, the yearning for immortality, the vain striving of the imprisoned essence--it is then, if ever, man walks alone with God.
JACK LONDON
"The White Silence"
When men were all asleep the snow came flying,
In large white flakes falling on the city brown,
Stealthily and perpetually settling and loosely lying,
Hushing the latest traffic of the drowsy town.
ROBERT BRIDGES
London Snow
Reaching for a reason, a rider in the snow
Has not far to go, has not far to go
THE CULT
"Rider in the Snow"
Snow pursued by the wind is not wholly unlike a retreating army. In the open field it ranges itself in ranks and battalions; where it can get a foothold it makes a stand; where it can take cover it does so. You may see whole platoons of snow cowering behind a bit of broken wall.
AMBROSE BIERCE
"The Night-Doings at Deadman's"