Nature looks dead in winter because her life is gathered into her heart. She withers the plant down to the root that she may grow it up again fairer and stronger. She calls her family together within her inmost home to prepare them for being scattered abroad upon the face of the earth. – Hugh Macmillan, “Rejuvenescence,” The Ministry of Nature, 1871

The autumn twilight turned into deep and early night as they walked. Tristran could smell the distant winter on the air—a mixture of night-mist and crisp darkness and the tang of fallen leaves…. the crescent moon hung white in the sky and the stars burned in the darkness above them. – Neil Gaiman, Stardust

Days of high temperature are almost disposable. Time gets pureed in the swelter of it all. Cold-weather hours drags, days and nights become small epics. I welcome the bleakness! – Henry Rollins, “Empowerment Through Libraries,” November 2013, LAWeekly