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The sensation reminds him of the first snow of winter, for those first few hours when everything is blanketed in white, soft and quiet.

-Erin Morgenstern

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The Sensation Reminds Him Of The First

Erin Morgenstern

The sensation reminds him of the first snow of winter, for those first few hours when everything is blanketed in white, soft and quiet.

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    <p style="font-size: 1.2rem; font-style: italic; margin-bottom: 10px;">"the sensation reminds him of the first snow of winter, for those first few hours when everything is blanketed in white, soft and quiet."</p>
    <footer style="font-size: 1rem; font-weight: bold;">— Erin Morgenstern</footer>
    <p style="margin-top: 15px; font-size: 0.85rem;"><a href="https://pjdigitalmarketing.com/quote/the-sensation-reminds-him-of-the-first-snow-of-winter-for-those-y0qdp" style="color: #8b5cf6; text-decoration: none;">View this quote on Pjdigitalmarketing.com</a></p>
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Topic

Winter White Snow

More From Erin Morgenstern

It is not the high summer alone that is god's. the winter also is his. and into his winter he came to visit us. and all man's winters are his - the winter of our poverty, the winter of our sorrow, the winter of our unhappiness - even 'the winter of our discontent.

In the bleak midwinter frosty wind made moan, earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone; snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow, in the bleak midwinter, long ago.

Inside the snow globe on my father's desk, there was a penguin wearing a red-and-white-striped scarf. when i was little my father would pull me into his lap and reach for the snow globe. he would turn it over, letting all the snow collect on the top, then quickly invert it. the two of us watched the snow fall gently around the penguin. the penguin was alone in there, i thought, and i worried for him. when i told my father this, he said, "don't worry, susie; he has a nice life. he's trapped in a perfect world.

The lyric abstrusities of auden ring mystically down the circular canals of my ear and it begins to look like snow. the good gray conservative obliterating snow. smoothing (in one white lacy euphemism after another) out all the black bleak angular unangelic nauseous ugliness of the blasted sterile world: dry buds, shrunken stone houses, dead vertical moving people all all all go under the great white beguiling wave. and come out transformed. lose yourself in a numb dumb snow-daubed lattice of crystal and come out pure with the white virginal veneer you never had.

Are soft-hearted people handicapped in business? you have heard a businessman say of someone else, he's all right, but he's too soft-hearted.... to be soft-hearted may be handicapping, in a sense. but on the whole, a soft heart is to be preferred to a hard heart. hard-hearted, severe, dominating giants sometimes manage to get further and to amass more money. but they get less genuine joy out of life.... it is the hard-boiled employer, not the soft-hearted species, that incites most of our strikes and does most to endanger the harmonious progress of democracy.

Winter song the browns, the olives, and the yellows died, and were swept up to heaven; where they glowed each dawn and set of sun till christmastide, and when the land lay pale for them, pale-snowed, fell back, and down the snow-drifts flamed and flowed. from off your face, into the winds of winter, the sun-brown and the summer-gold are blowing; but they shall gleam with spiritual glinter, when paler beauty on your brows falls snowing, and through those snows my looks shall be soft-going.

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