| Quote | Author | Source | Email Quote |
|---|
| It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold: when it is summer in the light, and winter in the shade. | Charles Dickens | Great Expectations |  |
| The early mist had vanished and the fields lay like a silver shield under the sun. It was one of the days when the glitter of winter shines through a pale haze of spring. | Edith Wharton | Ethan Frome |  |
| Looking up, she showed him quite a young face, but one whose bloom and promise were all swept away, as if the haggard winter should unnaturally kill the spring. | Charles Dickens | The Haunted Man |  |
| The night was clear and frosty, all ebony of shadow and silver of snowy slope; big stars were shining over the silent fields; here and there the dark pointed firs stood up with snow powdering their branches and the wind whistling through them. | Lucy Maud Montgomery | Anne of Green Gables |  |
| The white face of the winter day came sluggishly on, veiled in a frosty mist; and the shadowy ships in the river slowly changed to black substances; and the sun, blood-red on the eastern marshes behind dark masts and yards, seemed filled with the ruins of a forest it had set on fire. | Charles Dickens | Our Mutual Friend |  |
| There is probably a smell of roasted chestnuts and other good comfortable things all the time, for we are telling Winter Stories - Ghost Stories, or more shame for us - round the Christmas fire; and we have never stirred, except to draw a little nearer to it. | Charles Dickens | A Christmas Tree |  |
| "My love for Linton is like the foliage in the woods. Time will change it, I'm well aware, as winter changes the trees - my love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath - a source of little visible delight, but necessary." | Emily Bronte | Wuthering Heights |  |
| The last day of the old year was one of those bright, cold, dazzling winter days, which bombard us with their brilliancy, and command our admiration but never our love. | Lucy Maud Montgomery | Anne's House of Dreams |  |
| It was one of those chilly and empty afternoons in early winter, when the daylight is silver rather than gold and pewter rather than silver. | G. K. Chesterton | The Wisdom of Father Brown |  |
| Winter lies too long in country towns; hangs on until it is stale and shabby, old and sullen. | Willa Cather | My Antonia |  |