Bob Greene Quotes

Nothing is as tedious as the limping days, When snowdrifts yearly cover all the ways, And ennui, sour fruit of incurious gloom, Assumes control of fate’s immortal loom

Dull winter will re-appear.

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

Winter is the season of alcoholism and despair.

The most serious charge which can be brought against New England is not Puritanism, but February.... Spring is too far away to comfort even by anticipation, and winter long ago lost the charm of novelty. This is the very three a.m. of the calendar.

Illinois is a state of suspended animation and the people live in hibernation from Oct. to whenever it ever gets warmer.

I lived in Minnesota in a small town.

I hope to give you at least 15 more years of movies. I'm not going to be this old guy that keeps cranking them out. My plan is to have a theater by that time in some small town and I will be the manager this crazy old movie guy.

February is a suitable month for dying. Everything around is dead, the trees black and frozen so that the appearance of green shoots two months hence seems preposterous, the ground hard and cold, the snow dirty, the winter hateful, hanging on too long.

Ah, woe is me! Winter is come and gone. But grief returns with the revolving year.

I like these cold, gray winter days. Days like these let you savor a bad mood.

What am I doing here in this endless winter?

Small towns are like metronomes; with the slightest flick, the beat changes.

A little town is like a lantern. Nothing's hid from sight.

I'd been in love with her for years. I never left this suburban town. I didn't go to university. I went to Audrey.

I'm laying out my winter clothes and wishing I was gone, Going home, where the new york city winters aren't bleedin' me.

Though February lay about her shoulders like a cloak of lead.

Late in the winter of my seventeenth year, my mother decided I was depressed, presumably because I rarely left the house, spent quite a lot of time in bed, read the same book over and over, ate infrequently, and devoted quite a bit of my abundant free time to thinking about death.

People hit the sauce in a big way all winter. Amidst blizzards they wrestle unsuccessfully with the dark comedy of their lives, laughter trapped in their frigid gizzards. Meanwhile, the mercury just plummets, like a migrating duck blasted out of the sky by some hunter in a cap with fur earflaps.

I think I hate snow, downright hate it. There is something stupefying in it, a kind of 'You must be worse before you're better,' and down it spins.

I don't really like the autumn. For me it is the beginning of winter and I hate the winter. White, the colour of death.

Where has thou been all the dumb winter days When neither sunlight was nor smile of flowers, Neither life, nor love, nor frolic, Only expanse melancholic, With never a note of thy exhilarating lays?

I'm from Oregon. This is a town of no. I say no to a lot of things, and I get told no for a lot of things. Sometimes there's a yes, and you hope you see something in it.

I remember when I heard the words "Biblical criticism" in my town, it was with disdain: "Biblical criticism? How dare you?".

Childhood is the small town everyone came from.