Ryan Adams Quotes

A fair day in winter is the mother of a storme.

O Winter! bar thine adamantine doors: The north is thine; there hast thou build thy dark, Deep-founded habitation. Shake not thy roofs, Nor bend thy pillars with thine iron car.

The snow continues with high winds we remain at this camp to day in consequence of the weather.

A little slower, sweetheart. Cape Cod is freezing over.

The third day comes a frost, a killing frost.

And for the season it was winter, and they that know the winters of that country know them to be sharp and violent, and subject to cruel and fierce storms.

They don't make coats for this kind of cold

We go, in winter's biting wind, On many a short-lived winter day, With aching back but willing mind To dig and double dig the clay.

Boston has two seasons: August and winter.

Winter hurled more wind and rain at the city than it ever had before. Clouds dashed about in all directions emptying their thunder, hail and rain. The horizon was choked in fog.

Is it Nice in your snowstorm- freezing your brain? Do you think that your face looks the same?

He that passeth a winters day escapes an enemy.

Mainly I've been back to my books and writings and being nice and quiet and lazy. As I'm writing this, the radio says there's a foot of snow falling on Long Island. I really love snow and wish I could take a long walk in it right now.

The cold never bothered me anyway.

In the bleak midwinter Frosty wind made moan, Earth stood hard as iron, Water like a stone; Snow had fallen, Snow on snow, Snow on snow, In the bleak midwinter, Long ago.

Chill air and wintry winds! My ear has grown familiar with your song; I hear it in the opening year, I listen, and it cheers me long.

Here in New York City, it's cold. It's so cold the Republicans want to use the Keystone Pipeline to deliver soup.

It is deep January. The sky is hard. The stalks are firmly rooted in ice.

With the coldest winter ever recorded, with snow setting record levels up and down the coast, the Nobel committee should take the Nobel Prize back from Al Gore.

Winter is for women The woman still at her knitting, At the cradle of Spanish walnut, Her body a bulb in the cold and too dumb to think.

Dull winter will re-appear.

Oh the long and dreary Winter! Oh the cold and cruel Winter!