Quotation Explorer - 'Frost'

November comesAnd November goes,With the last red berriesAnd the first white snows.With night coming early,And dawn coming late,And ice in the bucketAnd frost by the gate.The fires burnAnd the kettles sing,And earth sinks to restUntil next spring. - Clyde Watson
She thought little of her ordeal. Cruelty was part of nature, like a winter frost; something to be survived and then forgotten (p.689) - Tim Willocks
All that is gold does not glitter, not all those who wander are lost. The old that is strong does not wither, deep roots are not reached by the frost. - J.R.R. Tolkien
The moon of Rome, chaste as the icicle that's curded by the frost from purest snow. - William Shakespeare
And I, could I stand byAnd see you freeze,Without my right of frost, Death's privilege? - Emily Dickinson
All that is gold does not glitter.Not all those who wander are lost:The old that is strong does not wither.Deep roots are not reached by the frost. - J.R.R. Tolkien
Against love's fire fear's frost hath dissolution. - William Shakespeare
Despite the heart numbing frost, my soul is blooming like spring. - Debasish Mridha
Friendship, like the immortality of the soul, is too good to be believed. When friendships are real, they are not glass threads or frost work but the solidest things we know. - Ralph Waldo Emerson
PLATONIC, adj. Pertaining to the philosophy of Socrates. Platonic Love is a fool's name for the affection between a disability and a frost. - Ambrose Bierce
IN WORLD EVERYTHING COST,TIME IS THE THING WE LOST,IN LIFE NEVER FEEL EXHAUST,U CAN CHANGE DAMAGED FROST . - merlin8thomas
The way you’re talking… Tears were shining in Kian’s eyes. It sounds like you don’t think you’re coming back. Kian to Bree, Spring Frost (Frost Series #7) - Kailin Gow
Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same; and Linton's is as different as a moonbeam from lightning, or frost from fire. - Emily Brontë
I'm pretty lost in becoming all this frost. Bitter, like Winter. Strung-out like a string of pearls. - Ashly Lorenzana
He loved to meditate on a land laid waste, Britain deserted by the legions, the rare pavements riven by frost, Celtic magic still brooding on the wild hills and in the black depths of the forest, the rosy marbles stained with rain, and the walls growing grey. - Arthur Machen
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