Winter is a time of promise because there is so little to do — or because you can now and then permit yourself the luxury of thinking so. – Stanley Crawford, A Garlic Testament: Seasons on a Small New Mexico Farm, 1992

Our destiny often looks like a fruit-tree in winter. Who would think from its pitiable aspect that those rigid boughs, those rough twigs could next spring again be green, bloom, and even bear fruit? Yet we hope it, we know it. – Johann Wolfgang Goethe, Wilhelm Meister’s Travels, translated from German

The life of man is a winter away. – Witts Recreations: Selected from the Finest Fancies of Modern Muses, with A Thou