He brewed his tea in a blue china pot, poured it into a chipped white cup with forget-me-nots on the handle, and dropped in a dollop of honey and cream. He sat by the window, cup in hand, watching the first snow fall. “I am,” he sighed deeply, “contented as a clam. I am a most happy man.” – Ethel Pochocki, Wildflower Tea, 1993

Snow-flakes! Yes, it is true, in accordance with the child-thought, you come floating so gently down from Heaven as if afraid of hurting the wintry earth…. Ye gentle, fleecy things!… Snow-flakes! – A.S. Macduff, “The Message of the Snow-Flakes,” in The Sunday Magazine (London),

It is one of the secrets of Nature in its mood of mockery that fine weather lays heavier weight on the mind and hearts of the depressed and the inwardly tormented than does a really bad day with dark rain sniveling continuously and sympathetically from a dirty sky. – Muriel Spark, Territorial Rights, 1979