[W]hat a severe yet master artist old Winter is…. No longer the canvas and the pigments, but the marble and the chisel. – John Burroughs, “The Snow-Walkers,” 1866

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

Winter is the season in which people try to keep the house as warm as it was in the summer, when they complained about the heat. – Author Unknown

[W]inter tames man, woman and beast…. – William Shakespeare, The Taming of the Shrew (Grumio)