Quotes about cold

Justice has to be cold. Deal with it it's just ice.

He has a magic touch. He can turn a G into a C. My heart was made of gold now it's all cold.

I don’t give sick days if you’re playing in the snow.” He’s being funny, or trying to be funny. I can never tell which.

I think that I am too warm to negatively judge individuals, yet I am cold enough to negatively judge humanity.

Kakimi chertyami oni viigrali holodnuyu voinu?"This translates roughly to: "How the hell did these people win the Cold War?

Don’t pack out______________To some people, you make life brightWhen you decide to dim your lightTheir lives will be full of darknessDo shine your light in kindnessTo some people, you bring out a joyWith their emotions, never ever toyWith your smiles, grease them with oilAnd make them glad when their lives boilTo other people, you are the warmthThat kills coldness and brings strengthDon’t do it; don’t pack outElse, they will have blackoutYou’re on earth to do two things hereWake up and do them n

I don't dream of a ceiling fan which is always here spinning above my head. I dream of a cool weather

So when you're coldFrom the inside outAnd don't know what to do,Remember love and friendship, And warmth will come to you.

And when the earth began to rumble and quake, as fear and frantic set in, he ran back inside the house past his wife and children, gathering all the valuables and things he thought of importance, and ran back to his car packing away. After making two trips in and out, he waited in the car for his family to come out, in fear they darted through the darkness and pelting cold rain. When everything calmed down, and the house was intact and safe, he returned putting everything back in its place, had

It might, too, have been the singular cold that alienated me; for such chilliness was abnormal on so hot a day, and the abnormal always excites aversion, distrust, and fear.

Glossa Time goes by, time comes along,All is old and all is new;What is right and what is wrong,You must think and ask of you;Have no hope and have no fear,Waves that rise can never hold;If they urge or if they cheer,You remain aloof and cold. To our sight a lot will glisten,Many sounds will reach our ear;Who could take the time to listenAnd remember all we hear?Keep aside from all that patter,Seek yourself, far from the throng When with loud and idle clatterTime goes by, time comes along.Nor fo

The world made me cold. You made me water. One day we'll be clouds.

Ellen had said that her mother was afraid of the ocean, that it was too cold and too big. The sky was, too, thought Annemarie. The whole world was: too cold, too big. And too cruel.

Cold has its own taste. It tastes of a bitten tongue. It coils around you, a living thing, a beast that means to kill you, not with wrath, not with tooth nor claw, but with the mercy of surrender, with the kindness of letting you go gentle into the long night after such a burden of pain and misery.

You are alone,So alone,You speak back to silence.People call it loneliness,You call it solitude,Different words,Meaning the same pain.

When eyes have died in its gaze, know the heart had died in its blaze.

Spring can still be felteven if you lay under the bedFrozen heart can meltin coldness when wintry love misled

You are not one of Pentrigrel’s creations. This is not where you belong. He will not keep his word to you. He is concerned only with himself. You cannot condemn yourself to this over Lunette’s fate.

They had laughed. They had leaned on each other and laughed until the tears had come, while everything else--the cold, and where he'd go in it--was outside, for a while anyway.

He thought perhaps it was a woman's way, to come out of such a storm of emotion and pain as if she were a ship emerging onto calm seas. She had seemed, not at peace, but emptied of sorrow. As if she had run out of that particular emotion and no other one arose to take its place.

In the middle of the night, I saw chaos bleeding out of darkness and peace. Everything that was said and seen before seemed like a paradox. I saw the graves of lies breaking open and the truth crawling out silently into the cold hearts.

It is better to have a warm than cold heart.

(...) “to have a hairy heart” has passed into everyday wizarding language to describe a cold or unfeeling witch or wizard.

I was happy in the dream; but when I woke up it was with a feeling that I was falling apart, that I was cracking up from the inside and slowly falling to pieces. My heart was jumping and grating like a cold engine that doesn't want to start. My skin was crawling, and I couldn't manage a single clear thought. It was as if all my thoughts were crushed to bits just as they began to take shape. I didn't get much done that day.

Mr. Albert? Mr. Albert?” Harley said.“Just Albert’s fine,” Albert said tersely.“Me and Janice are thirsty.”“I’m sorry, but I don’t have any water on me.” He managed a tight smile and moved on. But now Janice was crying and Harley was pleading.“We used to live with Mary and she gave us water. But now we have to live with Summer and BeeBee and they said we have to have money.”“Then I guess you’d better earn some money,” Albert said. He tried to soften it, tried not to sound harsh, but he had a lot

The season was waning fastOur nights were growing cold at lastI took her to bed with silk and song,'Lay still, my love, I won’t be long;I must prepare my body for passion.''O, your body you give, but all else you ration.''It is because of these dreams of a sylvan scene:A bleeding nymph to leave me serene...I have dreams of a trembling wench.''You have dreams,' she said, 'that cannot be quenched.''Our passion,' said I, 'should never be feared;As our longing for love can never be cured.Our want is

It is when I am cold, alone, bitterly forlorn and shuttered from all hope that you will see who I truly am. And my goal is that at those most precarious of moments, what you will see is Jesus holding you through my tears.

With callused handsi tastedthe softness of the moonin the coldest windsi discoveredmy soul's warmest fireplacein the roughnessof his stubblethe tenderest love.

There was a moment when any hope within me froze solid and I was finally emptied of all energy to fight the cold. And at the very point of that very surrender, when I became convinced that I must bow to a world that would be forever frigid, God cupped the hands of my soul and poured in the warmth of Christmas.

You have to be very deep to be dead, he thought, and I'm not. He began to have some concept of forever, and his mind shivered as his body had when he had wakened in the cold nights and thrust his hands between his thighs to keep warm. It will be a long night, he thought.

You may have the dark and cold street life, ruled by the lessor light of the moon. During this time I restore my temple, and later awake to greet the awesome radiance of the sun-star.

Death’s life should have listened to the moonly whispers of breathing in the coldest nights

Life sometimes reminds us that it is sometimes heartless by giving something or someone we really need to someone who does not need or even want them or it.

Colder by the hour, more dead with every breath.

I couldn't understand; cheating was the one thing I'd told her all those years ago would be unforgivable. She knew, she said, but that was part of what had been confusing her, that I would even have told her that, as if she weren't an actual human being with the freedom to act, but some character in a scenario in my head. There was a quality I had of making the people closest to me feel lonely, somehow. Some essential cold withholding at the core of myself.

Trust is not a gasoline-soaked blanket that succumbs to the matches of betrayal, never able to be used for its warmth again; it’s a tapestry that wears thin in places, but can be patched over if you have the right materials, circumstances, and patience to repair it. If you don’t, you’re always the one who feels the coldest when winter comes.

So I am not a broken heart. I am not the weight I lost or miles or ran and I am not the way I slept on my doorstep under the bare sky in smell of tears and whiskey because my apartment was empty and if I were to be this empty I wanted something solid to sleep on. Like concrete. I am not this year and I am not your fault.I am muscles building cells, a little every day, because they broke that day,but bones are stronger once they heal and I am smiling to the bus driver and replacing my groceries o

...and you drink a little too much and try a little too hard. And you go home to a cold bed and think, 'That was fine'. And your life is a long line of fine.

An imaginary friend once asked me why Americans can't stand Russia. The answer was cold, deadly, silent, and, well expected. It’s because in Soviet Russia nothing happens anymore, because it doesn’t exist anymore. And Americans are all about happenings. If there isn’t one – they don’t go where it isn’t, because there isn’t anything to happen to them there.

Why are you crying?" shivered the otter. "Because I am cold!" shouted the gnome. "Then why are you shouting?" chattered the otter. "Because," yelled the gnome, "when I shout it gets part of the cold from the inside out.

No past to make us sentimental, no future to embarrass us...a difficult moment when you are out of practice - a moment that makes you go cold, cold and wary.

Alphabet soup is my magic eight ball. Served hot or cold, words are delicious.

LED lighting has its place: cold, detached, hollow places like office buildings, factories, fast food chains and public schools - places full of humans but no human emotions. LED lighting really belongs in the apathy of the digital age, where science and technology rules over friendship, love and freedom. Incandescent light bulbs have a warm yellow-orange glow like the glow of a nice fireplace, where friends and family might sit and talk together or where children might open Christmas presents,

The exhilaration was hard to explain. It was a lonely feeling — a somehow melancholy feeling. He was outside; he passed on the wings of the wind, and none of the people beyond the brightly lighted squares of their windows saw him. They were inside, inside where there was light and warmth. They didn't know he had passed them; only he knew. It was a secret thing.

I'd rather be not the light in your lifeThe bright day might make me obscureI'd rather be the cold darknessFor it remains, unseen, uncertain and unsure

I wonder what freezesthe flurry of hurt on her cold-flushed cheeks, if his touch isa salve or the shattering.

She had died, I just never told her. So still, we walk, eat and sleep together, in fear one day she'll come to realize it.

The definition of a relationship is like a shower. You go in when it is cold, and come out when it is too hot.

The definition of a relationship is like a shower. You walk in when it is cold, and comes out when it is too hot.

There is nothing for you in this bleak hospital room but a cold and empty nothingness that has no answers, can give no peace, will provide no comfort to the living.

There isn’t any doubt I’m stuck in stress and depression.

The conviction that life has a purpose is rooted in every fibre of man, it is a property of the human substance. Free men give many names to this purpose, and think and talk a lot about its nature. But for us the question is simpler. Today, in this place, our only purpose is to reach the spring. At the moment we care about nothing else. Behind this aim there is not at the moment any other aim. In the morning while we wait endlessly lined up in roll-call square for the time to leave for work, whi

Imagine a delicious glass of summer iced tea.Take a long cool sip. Listen to the ice crackle and clink.Is the glass part full or part empty?Take another sip.And now?

I have a message for your daughter,” said Cale. “I am bound to her with cables that not even God can break. One day, if there is a soft breeze on her cheek, it may be my breath; one night, if the cool wind plays with her hair, it may be my shadow passing by.” And with this terrible threat he faced forward and the procession started once more. In less than a minute they were gone. In her shady room Arbell Swan-Neck stood white and cold as alabaster.

If you add your hot passion to the cold attitude of another person, it becomes lukewarm. Don’t stand on the toes of dwarfs; stand on the shoulders of giants!

There is no future in the past. Any tour into the past is perhaps courage to live at the average level as you did; old and cold, blind and blunt! Come out! Out of the past and change position. You matter, your future matters

Yesterday, she shed tears, keeping her head on my shoulders. And I think she's not going to be fine because I know she won't. Because a couple of years back, I wasn't.And when you know that you've fallen hard on a cold ground and are still lying there, what do you tell others who are taking the fall?You close your eyes. You accept to lie there a little longer. But I lie on my bed now, and it's a little too warm today.

Living things don't all requirelight in the same degree. Some of usmake our own light: a silver leaflike a path no one can use, a shallowlake of silver in the darkness under the great maples.But you know this already.You and the others who thinkyou live for truth and, by extension, loveall that is cold.

Let it rain on some days,Let yourself shiver on some cold nights, So when it's Spring you'll know why it was all worth going through.

A warm dead photograph is much livelier than a living cold reality!

If you venture to be a sageLet your virtues subside your rageFor deep wisdom you’ll be veneratedLet cold veins feel blood cells generated

If you allow coldness to engulf you before winter, season is helpless to help you.

Why is it these days that so many people hate reading? Some people won't even touch a newspaper or magazine. It isn't television that kills reading, or cinema or radio, or even those accursed little things known as video games. People used to read all the time, but when the century shifted subtly, somewhere along the way, people forgot how to imagine. When did it happen? At what point? Who or what is to blame? Maybe it's just because the world has become so cold and scientific and shallow in rec

They wore their strange beauty like war paint.

Anyone who's ever gone from warm and bright to cold and dark knows how I felt.

A family is a unit composed not only of children but of men, women, an occasional animal, and the common cold.

Winters are a desolate time where all senses are wiped away, and here in Canada, this is especially true. All smells are sucked clean from the air, leaving only a harsh, icy crispness. Colours are stripped away, leaving a stark white landscape, a sky which stays black at night and gray in the day, a world of only three shades. Stay outside too long, and your hands will get so cold that they’ll go numb and turn red, like the claws of a lobster. During a whiteout, even sight itself is reduced to n

Dark spruce frowned on either side of the frozen waterway.

She tilted her head back, breathing deeply. It was a stone gray day, the sea a bleak slate broken up by whitecaps, the sky pleated with thick ripples of cloud. A hard wind filled the sails, carrying the little boat over the waves. 'It feels good to be this kind of cold,' she murmured. 'This kind?''Wind in your hair, sea spray on your skin. The cold of the living.

First, the wind would rumble in the distance like an approaching river, then he would see grass bend, pressed by a great invisible hand. The dull rumble would rise in pitch to a swishing, lashing exultation, causing stalks to lie flat against the ground while the tougher branches of shrubs held themselves up and shrieked their defiance in the gusts. Then the first drops, cold and heavy, would plummet from the sky and burst on the ground.

Waking up every cold morning is always a problem especially now it's raining daily but I thank God for Proverbs 24:33 which says "...A little sleep, a little slumber, a little folding of the hands to rest, then poverty will come as a robber and your want like an armed man"Whenever I think of that verse, no matter how sweet the sleep is or how cold the morning is, I always stand up on my feet to get set for work

Thanks to TV and for the convenience of TV, you can only be one of two kinds of human beings, either a liberal or a conservative.

This was beyond a joke. This had moved beyond foolishness, slipped over the line into genuine 24 karat Jesus-Christ-I-fucked-up-bigtime territory.

It is 32c today, and the only thing keeping me from hanging myself is the small sense of relief Iglean from attaching my body to the vents of my delicious cooling piece. It is a stunning unit,exquisite in all its forms, exceptional in its application, and effective in all its functions. I wouldmarry it, if only I knew it would not die on me sometime within the next five years. Appliances,like obedient children or silent extroverts, cannot last forever, and while my unbidden affectionkept my othe

Your doubts do nothing than pouring cold water on your enviable dreams. Just keep doubts away from you and you will not dilute your success story!

If you have a dream as a child, but you let it go cold, you will grow old only to realize that you have sold your gold for no royalty!

They say blood is thicker than water, but I say ice, can be more solid than blood, when times get cold.

I used to be fine in my lonelinessbut somethingor someonesnapped me out of itand showed me company. What it’s like to feel at home,and so the going on by myself part wasn’t as easy anymore.Seasons happened and things got colder and harder and suddenly I found myself smoking circles in the airby myself in the snowand I was not okay.

Seasons happened and things got colder and harder and suddenly I found myself smoking circles in the airby myself in the snowand I was not okay.

... If the dead can come back to this earth and move unseen around those they loved, I shall always be near you; in the garish day and in the darkest night—amidst your happiest scenes and gloomiest hours—always, always; and if there be a soft breeze upon your cheek, it shall be my breath; or if the cool air fans your throbbing temple, it shall be my spirit passing by.

Outside the window, there slides past that unimaginable and deserted vastness where night is coming on, the sun declining in ghastly blood-streaked splendour like a public execution across, it would seem, half a continent, where live only bears and shooting stars and the wolves who lap congealing ice from water that holds within it the entire sky. All white with snow as if under dustsheets, as if laid away eternally as soon as brought back from the shop, never to be used or touched. Horrors! And

I was recently living more comfortably surrounded by secrets... Like dozens of luxurious satiny pillows, they were embracing me from all directions into safe lulling warmth, thus isolating me from the sharp dead-cold edges of the truth hiding behind their endearingly smooth textures and tender soothing colours.Secrets could be so irresistibly beautiful...

The desperate piercing scream of horror echoed far above the sharpened tops of the trees wrapped in thin obsidian-transparent mist, and I startled jerkily, tripping again, and almost collapsed onto the cold moist ground.

Others, I am not the first,Have willed more mischief than they durst:If in the breathless night I tooShiver now, 'tis nothing new.More than I, if truth were told,Have stood and sweated hot and cold,And through their veins in ice and fireFear contended with desire.Agued once like me were they,But I like them shall win my wayLastly to the bed of mouldWhere there's neither heat nor cold.But from my grave across my browPlays no wind of healing now,And fire and ice within me fightBeneath the suffocat

Better to leave him with the memory of their being a pair of monsters, wrapped in each other's arms.

pain is like the cold. do not give it your attention. but unlike the cold do not deny being in pain

Men do not become tyrants in order that they may not suffer cold.

A forest fire was making its way along the tinderbox ridges above them, flaring and shimmering against the overcast like the northern lights. Cold as it was he stood there a long time. The color of it moved something in him long forgotten. Make a list. Recite a litany. Remember.

When the cold comes to New England it arrives in sheets of sleet and ice. In December, the wind wraps itself around bare trees and twists in between husbands and wives asleep in their beds. It shakes the shingles from the roofs and sifts through cracks in the plaster. The only green things left are the holly bushes and the old boxwood hedges in the village, and these are often painted white with snow. Chipmunks and weasels come to nest in basements and barns; owls find their way into attics. At

The unknown grayish mystifying forest was benumbed into frost-covered cold, and the tremendous pines towering above the dark marshy soil resembled a gathering of severe mute brothers from a forbidden ancient order worshiping forgotten gods no one had ever heard of outside of the world of secret occult visions.

They were both at such an age that they stood on a cusp. They could think in one part of their minds that their whole lives stretched out before them without boundary or limit. At the same time another part guessed that youth was about over for them and what lay ahead was another country entirely, wherein the possibilities narrowed down moment by moment.

A thin grey fog hung over the city, and the streets were very cold; for summer was in England.

The ticking seconds pulled me toward the end. It was cold when he no longer held me. It got colder every step I took away from him. Just my imagination, of course. It was still summer here. It would always be summer here for me.

They pine for the hip, frosty girlfriend they abandoned for a pleasant if unexciting marriage to her sunnier, less mentally present sister coast.

Christmas in L.A. is weird. There's no snow. It's not even cold.

The Cold War is over but Cold War thinking survives.

Damp veils of mist swirled around them. They were dreadfully cold (Moomintroll thought longingly of his woolly trousers) and surrounded completely by an awful floating emptiness."I always thought clouds were soft and woolly and nice to be in," said Sniff, sneezing. "Ugh! I'm beginning to be sorry I ever came on this expedition.

It was cold and barren. It was no longer the view that I remembered. The sunshine of her presence was far from me. The charm of her voice no longer murmured in my ear.

But every tomorrow has led to today— to us being alone, hungry, and cold on an unknown island somewhere in the South Pacific.