An old man loved is a winter with flowers.
If the winter is too cold and the summer is too hot, you are not a hiker.
It is the life of the crystal, the architect of the flake, the fire of the frost, the soul of the sunbeam. This crisp winter air is full of it.
No matter how long the winter, spring is sure to follow.
Nothing in this world is certain but death and next winter's snows.
One kind word can warm three winter months.
Spring succeeds to winter.
The bee works all summer and eats honey all winter.
The bee, from her industry in the summer, eats honey all the winter.
The fire is winter’s fruit.
The grasshoppers sang all the summer, and starved all the winter.
Life of Charlotte Brontë
The leaves fall, the wind blows, and the farm country slowly changes from the summer cottons into its winter wools.
There are two seasons in Scotland: June and Winter.
What good is the warmth of summer, without the cold of winter to give it sweetness.
When the fall is poor for mushrooms, the winter will be rich with snow.
Winter is an etching, spring a watercolor, summer an oil painting and autumn a mosaic of them all.
Youth has its romance, and maturity its wisdom, as morning and spring have their freshness, noon and summer their power, night and winter their repose.
The Life of Charlotte Brontë — Volume 2
Elizabeth Cleghorn Gaskell