Quotes about ice

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

I allowed myself a microscopic view into his ice-colored eyes. It was like viewing one of those photographs of the Arctic region – very foreign, exotic, clearly a place you’ve never dreamed of going.

I have two eyes, and I go to see the ice.

She didn't pick her way over the terrain like she was afraid of slipping on the ice...She glided over it with long confident strides. Her hands were in her vest pockets. Her eyes were Susannah.

8. Santa Claus is concerned about the problem of Arctic ice. The ice is the spouse of the elves, and she is sick. She is the primary source of their magic, as the elves cannot be separated from the place where they live. For many years now, this is all they have asked for for Christmas: that the ice should come back

Ice can kill as dead as fire.

It doesn’t extinguish the fire with ice. (On n’éteint pas le feu - Avec des glaçons.)

I hold with those who favor fire.But if it had to perish twice,I think I know enough of hateTo know that for destruction iceIs also great

You play with ice - you get cold.You play with fire - you get burnt.you play with me - you get lucky.

I must freeze my heart to the one person who insists on setting it ablaze.

My dreams are all of fire – mother says dreams usually go by opposites, so does that mean the world will end in ice?

Fire and IceSome say the world will end in fire,Some say in ice.From what I’ve tasted of desireI hold with those who favor fire.But if it had to perish twice,I think I know enough of hateTo say that for destruction iceIs also greatAnd would suffice.

A chill swept through the air, the sort of graveyard kiss promising bad news to follow.

It was winter, and a night of bitter cold. The snow lay thick upon the ground, and upon the branches of the trees: the frost kept snapping the little twigs on either side of them, as they passed: and when they came to the Mountain-Torrent she was hanging motionless in air, for the Ice-King had kissed her.

Silence can always be broken by the sound
Of footsteps walking over frozen groundIn winter when the melancholy treesStand abject and let their branches freeze


The blast that swept him came off New Hampshire snow-fields and ice-hung forests. It seemed to have traversed interminable leagues of frozen silence, filling them with the same cold roar and sharpening its edge against the same bitter black-and-white landscape.("The Triumph Of The Night")

I stood on the old ferry dock and watched the icy sludge slide by. Patches of white ice slipped through, but mostly it was grey slush, sluggish and heavy looking. The air was sharp and clear, one of the few benefits of the evacuation and reducing temperature, the centuries-old odour of industry and modern life frozen and discarded, leaving a crispness previously only found among the peaks of mountain ranges. On the far bank stood the ruins of Birkenhead, where the riots had been particularly bad

By March, the worst of the winter would be over. The snow would thaw, the rivers begin to run and the world would wake into itself again.Not that year.Winter hung in there, like an invalid refusing to die. Day after grey day the ice stayed hard; the world remained unfriendly and cold.

In January in Northern Russia, everything vanishes beneath a deep blanket of whiteness. Rivers, fields, trees, roads, and houses disappear, and the landscape becomes a white sea of mounds and hollows. On days when the sky is gray, it is hard to see where earth merges with air. On brilliant days when the sky is a rich blue, the sunlight is blinding, as if millions of diamonds were scattered on the snow, refracting light. In Catherine's time, the log roads of summer were covered with a smooth coat

...that icy glass reduces your beauty - dims your fire - let me be your mirror...

I had never before met anyone who owned a telephone and believed in dragons.

Love you always, miss you always... running day and night, leaving the place of sun and moon, of ice and snow.Never look back, never forget.

I drag the body out into the snowdrifts, as far away from our shack as I can muster. I put her in a thicket of trees, where the green seems to still have a voice in the branches, and try not to think about the beasts that’ll soon be gathering. There’s no way of burying her; the ground is a solid rock of ice beneath us.I kneel beside her and want desperately to weep. My throat tightens and my head aches. Everything hurts inside. But I have no way of releasing it. I’m locked up and hard as stone.“

But germs are the most common snowflake starters and lie at the heart of 85 percent of all flakes.2So next time you gaze at a lovely snowstorm, inform your favorite germophobe or hypochondriac that living bacteria sit shivering in most of those untold billions of flakes. Then hand him or her a snow cone or organize a catch-a-snowflake-on-your-tongue party.Once the ice-forming process is started, more molecules join the party, and the crystal grows. It can ultimately become either a snowflake or

There’s always that first step in skating, from dry ground to slick ice, when it just seems impossible. Impossible that two thin blades of metal will support you, impossible that because its molecules have begun to dance a little slower water will hold you up.

I am in love, and the river is beginning to ice over. I’d better go drown myself before I freeze to death.


In the bare room under the old library on the hill in the town at the tip of the small peninsula on the cold island so far from everything else, I lived among strangers and birds.

Water and ice made of the same thing. He thought most people were made of the same thing, too...If he had sort all the humanity by its material essence, he thought he would probably end up with a single gigantic pile. But here was the interesting thing. Ice was distinct from - and in his view, better than - what it was made of.He wanted to be better than what he was made of. In Mumbai's dirty water, he wanted to be ice. He wanted to have ideals. For self-interested reasons, one of the ideals he

Agnes walked in with a tray of gorgeous raspberry tortes, fruit sorbet, and pistachio ice.

There is no greater despair, than to tread with care upon ice that is already broken

Even so, [... in the silence after a winter storm has ceased to howl, in the soft whisper of a morning snowfall, in the way the moonlight sparkles over new-fallen snow, you can feel when she has been near by, ever searching. You can sense the presence of the Winter Child.

The world seemed to go red. He wanted to scream his outrage, to charge at Skarn and tear the murdering bastard's face off with his bare teeth. But he knew that meant certain death. No, he had to be ice. Not fire, but ice.

(...) a man encased in ice, his eyes hard and his voice like a frosty exhale.

Take it all in all, I do not believe anybody on Earth has it worse than an Emperor penguin.

As her fate, she accepted the world of ice, shining, shimmering, dead; she resigned herself to the triumph of glaciers and the death of the world.

Up here on the Ice each of us is singular, isolate, I as cut off from those like me, from my society, and its rules, as he from his.

You play on the ice... you get what you should get.

My ideas were confused. In a peculiar way, the unreality of the outer world appeared to be an extension of my own disturbed state of mind.

She frowned. “I did nothing to arouse you.”He clenched his jaw, his stare growing more aggressive. “You breathed.

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

Fear melts like ice when we allow love's divine light to shine upon our ignorance.

Ice is most welcome in a cold drink on a hot day.But in the heart of winter, you want a warm hot mug with your favorite soothing brew to keep the chill away.When you don’t have anything warm at hand, even a memory can be a small substitute.Remember a searing look of intimate eyes.Receive the inner fire.

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

He who cannot put his thoughts on ice should not enter into the heat of dispute.

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

I? I am the wind,’ said Thowra. ‘I come, I pass, and I am gone.’ The strange feathers moved up and down, the strange voice said tartly: ‘And are your sons the same?’ ‘My son is the lightning that strikes through the black night. My grandson is light that pierces the dark sky at dawning.’ ‘Ah,’ said the first emu, ‘and we know your daughter is the snow that falls softly from above and clothes the world in white. You want but the rainbow — that is and was and never will be, and is yet the promise

I used to jog but the ice cubes kept falling out of my glass.

The scenes in 'The Virgin Suicides' where Elle Fanning is ice skating are really amazing.

That was the best ice cream soda I ever tasted.

When you're as hot as you are, no amount of ice will do.

Mom asked for a cupcake miracle? Well, here comes the freaking holy angel of icing, at your service. --

Her albino hair illuminated my dreams, shining brighter than moonlight.

I freeze and burn, love is bitter and sweet, my sighs are tempests and my tears are floods, I am in ecstasy and agony, I am possessed by memories of her and I am in exile from myself.

They’d reached the point of no return, and she wanted to throw herself into the fire until the flames melted away the years of ice that claimed her.

Patience is to wait for the ice to melt instead of breaking it.

She had never known that ice could take on so many shades of blue: sharp lines of indigo like the deepest sea, aquamarine shadows, even the glint of blue-green where the sun struck just so.

With all the global warming going around nowadays, it would only take the stubbornness of a mule and the patience of a sitting duck to achieve what no man has ever done before – namely melt the ice in a wax figure’s beaten heart that was chopped off and hidden 50 meters under the polar ice caps in Alaska, to protect it from feeling.

He could, Andi."Andi's heart turned to ice.It wasn't possible.He was dead, cast away into some deep, dark hell where he'd never be able to claw his way back out.

You've got ice in your veins, but you're smart enough to keep it from freezing your heart.

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?

Well, heaven forgive him! and forgive us all! Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall: Some run from brakes of ice, and answer none: And some condemned for a fault alone.

I guess I was lucky I didn't drown, or smother in the thick, black, icy mud that the river left behind in its slow withdrawal back within its banks.I didn't feel lucky.When I regained consciousness, my head and ribs winning the battle with the rest of my body for sharp, almost unbearable pain, my first thought was Chrissy. Chrissy, pulled away from me by the merciless power of the water. Chrissy, lost somewhere, maybe injured, calling for me and I wasn't there for her. Chrissy, beautiful, wonder

Life is only a flicker of melted ice.

Eternity is a glorious word, but eternity is ice.

You are walking on thin ice - the ice of what remains of the trust between us - carrying the weight of immeasurable guilt.

The field was covered with ice crystals sticking up like a garden of little diamonds. Sophia was beside her now, and the two animals walked slowly into the crystal blossoms. Flora was enchanted.For a moment she forgot she was hungry, tired, and ill-equipped to make this journey. She forgot to worry about Oscar. She forgot to worry that there would never be a useful job for her. She kicked up her front hooves with each step and watched the ice crystals scatter in front of her.

There are times when the unseen can be even more dangerous than what our eyes behold.

He’d fallen in the trap before of believing she had the cold soul of an ice queen, but moments like these, it seemed more like she’d been encased a long time ago and couldn’t break free.