Don Young Quotes

I'm not a fan of cold weather.

empty and closed, hovering in some frozen netherworld neither sun nor rain could thaw.

Absence makes the heart grow frozen, not fonder.

No frozen-hearted woman ever I laid eyes on but has made duty her religion.

Deliver me from your cold phlegmatic preachers, politicians, friends, lovers and husbands.

Your numbness is something perhaps you cannot help. It is what the world has done to you. But your coldness. That is what you do to the world.

He had come to know quite thoroughly the world in which he lived. His outlook was bleak and materialistic. The world as he saw it was a fierce and brutal world, a world without warmth, a world in which caresses and affection and the bright sweetness of spirit did not exist.

I nod like I'm not at all unnerved by this new cold side to him. Not cruel like his father. Not warm like the husband who sought me out on quiet nights. Something in between. This Linden has never woven his fingers through mine, never chosen me from a line of weary Gathered girls, never said he loved me in a myriad of coloured lights. We are nothing to each other.

Every writer must have a chip of ice in his heart.

I sit in the sky like a sphinx misunderstood; My heart of snow is wed to the whiteness of swans; I hate the movement that displaces the rigid lines, With lips untaught neither tears nor laughter do I know.

Their eyes were dark and hard and glowing, with no fear in them, no kindness and no guilt.

I wish I could find words to explain what this kind of cold is like- the cold that has somehow gotten in underneath your skin and is getting colder and colder inside you.

But her heart was so cold that she could hold ice in her mouth and it would never melt.

In a certain state of mind, all trace of feeling is banished. Whenever I remain silent in a certain way, I don't love you, have you noticed that?

Cold is thy hopeless heart, even as charity.

If people could see into my heart, I should almost feel ashamed - all there is cold, cold as ice.

I was an emotional manipulator of fighters . . . You have to know how to be cold, you know? Just have no -emotions, no feelings. It takes time, though, to develop that. I'd been working on that since I was 12 years old. It doesn't happen overnight.

The world is not unkind, and reprobates are worse than their reputations.

I've been half-frozen for so long, it is as though the winter has set up home in my marrow.

Snow. White, white, white, soft and clean, and maddening shapes, with the whole world in them.

I'm icy, I'm icy. So icy, so icy.

She understood his eyes, colder than winter's heart. A man who knew he was dead and couldn't make himself care; you are spared that. Mashiara. His lost love.

Cold and silence. Nothing quieter than snow. The sky screams to deliver it, a hundred banshees flying on the edge of the blizzard. But once the snow covers the ground, it hushes as still as my heart.

Heart may still be the fire in hearth but I'm suddenly too cold to continue, and besides, there's no hearth here anyway and it's the end of June. Thursday. Almost noon. And all the buttons on my corduroy coat are gone. I don't know why. I'm sorry Hailey. I don't know what to do.

New York was a city where you could be frozen to death in the midst of a busy street and nobody would notice.