It was no summer progress. A cold coming they had of it, at this time of the year; just, the worst time of the year, to take a journey, and specially a long journey, in. The ways deep, the weather sharp, the days short, the sun farthest off in solstitio brumali, the very dead of winter. See Eliot 306:73.
Back and side go bare, go bare, Both foot and hand go cold; But, belly,God send thee good ale enough, Whether it be new or old.
Give them the cold steel, boys!
'Ye can call it influenza if ye like,'said Mrs Machin.'There was no influenza in my young days.We called a cold a cold.'
I know thy works, that thou art neither cold nor hot: I would thou wert cold or hot. So then because thou art lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, I will spew thee out of my mouth.
Cold inthe earthand the deepsnow piled abovethee, Far, far, removed, cold in the dreary grave! Have I forgot, my only Love, to love thee, Severed at last byTime's all-serving wave?
And it isgood to cheat the pair, and gibe, Letting the rank tongue blossom into speech. Setebos, Setebos, and Setebos! Thinketh, He dwelleth i'the cold o'the moon. Thinketh He made it, with the sun to match, But not the stars; the stars came otherwise.
Oh wert thou in the cauld blast, On yonder lea, on yonder lea; My plaidie to the angryairt, I'd shelter thee, I'd shelter thee.
She had a mannish manner of mind and face, able to feel hot and think cold.
A cold coming we had of it, Just the worst time of the year For a journey, and such a long journey: The ways deep and the weather sharp, The very dead of winter.
The only time it isn't good for you is when you write or when you fight.You have to do that cold.But it always helps my shooting. Modern life, too, is often a mechanical oppression and liquor is the only mechanical relief. 394
Les livres sont des amis froids et s u" rs. Books are cold and certain friends.
The cold reaches of the universe must not become the new area of an even colder war.
I want to go south, where there is no autumn, where the cold doesn't crouch over one like a snow-leopard waiting to pounce. The heart of the North is dead, and the fingers of cold are corpse fingers.
Have you seen the bush by moonlight, from the train, go running by? Blackened log and stump and sapling, ghostly trees all dead and dry; Here a patch of glassy water; there a glimpse of mystic sky? Have you heard the still voice callingyet so warm, and yet so cold: 'I'm the Mother-Bush that bore you! Come to me when you are old'?
The Spy who Came in from the Cold.
It is a terrible thing, this kindness that human beings do not lose. Terrible because when we are finally naked in the dark and cold, it is all we have.
No worse than a bad cold.
When Paris sneezes, Europe catches cold.
Spring, the sweet spring, is the year's pleasant king, Then blooms each thing, then maids dance in a ring, Cold doth not sting, the pretty birds do sing: Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!
Hatjesich einWeib,das sichgutbekleidet wusste, erk a« ltet? Has a woman who knew she was well dressed ever caught a cold?
I wanted to be black. I always wanted to be black Being black iswarm and gay, being white is cold and sad.
Coldcold as truth, cold as life. No, nothing can be as cold as life.
There is no looking-glass here and I don't know what I am like now. I remember watching myself brush my hair and how my eyes looked back at me. The girl I saw was myself and yet not quite myself. Long ago when I was a child and very lonely I tried to kiss her. But the glass was between ushard, cold and misted over with my breath.Now they havetaken everything away.What am I doing in this place and who am I?
The way was long, the wind was cold, The Minstrel was infirm and old; His withered cheek, and tresses grey, Seemed to have known a better day; The harp, his sole remaining joy, Was carried byan orphan boy, The last of all the Bards was he, Who sung of Border chivalry.
And said I that my limbs were old, And said I that my blood was cold, And that my kindly fire was fled, And my poor withered heart was dead, And that I might not sing of Love?
Came through cold roads to as cold news.
If you strike a child take care that you strike it in anger, evenattheriskof maiming itfor life. A blow incold blood neither can nor should be forgiven.
He has out-soared the shadow of our night; Envyand calumnyand hate and pain, And that unrest which men miscall delight, Can touch him not and torture not again; From the contagion of the world's slow stain He is secure, and now can never mourn A heart grown cold, a head grown grey in vain.
Now the nimble fingers are no more nimble, And the silver thimble lies cold and tarnished black.
It was an ideal day for footballtoo cold for the spectators and too cold for the players.
Oh, no, no, no, it was too cold always (Still the dead one lay moaning) I was much too far out all my life And not waving but drowning.
Shall I tell you the signs of a New Age coming? It is a sound of drubbing and sobbing Of people crying,We are old, we are old And the sun isgoing down and becoming cold.
She has made me in love with a cold climate, and frost and snow, with a northern moonlight.
What worlds delight, or joy of living speech Can heart, so plunged in sea of sorrows deep, And heape' d with so huge misfortunes, reach? The careful cold beginneth for to creep, And in my heart his iron arrow steep, Soon as I think upon my bitter bale.
And all that I could thinkof, in the darkness and the cold, Was just that I was leaving home and my folks were growing old.
I fear that I have not got much to sayabout Canada, not having seen much; what I got by going to Canada was a cold.
Every drop of ink in my pen ran cold.
See, the curse of children! In life they keep us frequently in tears, And in the cold grave leave us in pale fears.
Lifeless in appearance, sluggish dazed spring approaches They enter the new world naked, cold, uncertain of all save that they enter.
Webster's New World Dictionary of Quotations Copyright © 2010 by Chambers Harrap Publishers Ltd. All rights reserved. Published by Wiley, Hoboken, NJ. Used by arrangement with John Wiley & Sons, Inc.
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