Donna Tartt Quotes

Come, ye cold winds, at January's call, On whistling wings, and with white flakes bestrew The earth.

Is it snowing where you are? All the world that I see from my tower is draped in white and the flakes are coming down as big as pop-corns. It's late afternoon - the sun is just setting (a cold yellow colour) behind some colder violet hills, and I am up in my window seat using the last light to write to you.

And finally Winter, with its bitin', whinin' wind, and all the land will be mantled with snow.

Write about winter in the summer.

Through the small tall bathroom window the December yard is gray and scratchy, the tree calligraphic.

Some years ago I gave a concert in the mountains with snow all around, and that was much colder.

I'd never walked on snow 'til I was 50, you know. There's no snow where I come from.

A lot of people like snow. I find it to be an unnecessary freezing of water.

In Moscow I feel most comfortable. I'm used to four different seasons; it's difficult for people in London to understand. People brought up in Russia like my kids want to play in the snow.

Snow is so common that I have omitted to note its falling at least two days out of Three.

My parents live in the part of the United States that is Canada. It is so far north that Minnesota lies in the same direction as Miami. They have four distinct seasons: Winter, More Winter, Still More Winter, and That One Day Of Summer.

How the snow falls in the north! Flake on flake falling incessantly, until the small dingles are almost on a level with the uplands. It throws itself on the leaves of autumn, and holds them down in security from the strongest winds.

It was never a thing that bothered me, being cold or if there's snow. It never fazed me.

I wrote a lot of 'Red Queen' wrapped in a blanket, cramped up while watching the snow come down.

I'm not a cold-weather guy.

I have often thought, says Sir Roger, it happens very well that Christmas should fall out in the middle of Winter.

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.

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.

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

I love the winter. Well, I love all the seasons, but the winter is possibly one of the most intense.