Even winter — the hardest season, the most implacable — dreams, as February creeps on, of the flame that will presently melt it away. Everything tires with time, and starts to seek some opposition, to save it from itself. – Clive Barker, The Hellbound Heart, 1986

[I]n the gloomy month of February…. The Deserts of Arabia are not more dreary and inhospitable than the streets of London at such a time… – Washington Irving, Oliver Goldsmith: A Biography, 1849

Along about the beginning of February, when the days of winter seem endless and no amount of wistful recollecting can bring back any air of summer, I caught one of those colds which last for two days in the children and two weeks with me. – Shirley Jackson, Raising Demons, 1957

I miss everything about Chicago, except January and February. – Gary Cole (b.1956)