Summer And Winter Quotes

Spring passes and one remembers one’s innocence. Summer passes and one remembers one’s exuberance. Autumn passes and one remembers one’s reverence. Winter passes and one remembers one’s perseverance.

Antisthenes says that in a certain faraway land the cold is so intense that words freeze as soon as they are uttered, and after some time then thaw and become audible, so that words spoken in winter go unheard until the next summer.

For they are the knights of summer, and winter is coming.

Thus sometimes hath the brightest day a cloud;
And after summer evermore succeeds
Barren winter, with his wrathful nipping cold:
So cares and joys abound, as seasons fleet.

We need society, and we need solitude also, as we need summer and winter, day and night, exercise and rest.

Out of time we cut ‘days’ and ‘nights’, ‘summers’ and ‘winters.’ We say what, each part of the sensible continuum is, and all these abstract whats are concepts. The intelletual life of man consists almost wholly in his substitution of a conceptual order for the persceptual order in which his experience originally comes.

Winter, which, being full of care, makes summer’s welcome thrice more wish’d, more rare.

My old grandmother always used to say, Summer friends will melt away like summer snows, but winter friends are friends forever.

A man says a lot of things in summer he doesn’t mean in winter.

Now is the winter of our discontent.

Spring, summer, and fall fill us with hope; winter alone reminds us of the human condition.

He who marvels at the beauty of the world in summer will find equal cause for wonder and admiration in winter.

It has been ordained that there be summer and winter, abundance and dearth, virtue and vice, and all such opposites for the harmony of the whole, and (Zeus) has given each of us a body, property, and companions.

What is time? The shadow on the dial, the striking of the clock, the running of the sand, day and night, summer and winter, months, years, centuries-these are but arbitrary and outward signs, the measure of Time, not Time itself. Time is the Life of the Soul.

I wonder if the snow loves the trees and fields, that it kisses them so gently? And then it covers them up snug, you know, with a white quilt; and perhaps it says “Go to sleep, darlings, till the summer comes again.

The indescribable innocence of and beneficence of Nature,-of sun and wind and rain, of summer and winter,-such health, such cheer, they afford forever!

He is the rich man, and enjoys the fruit of his riches, who summer and winter forever can find delight in his own thoughts.