December Quotes

Quotes tagged as "december" (showing 1-30 of 39)
Dr. Seuss
“How did it get so late so soon?”
Dr. Seuss

“December's wintery breath is already clouding the pond, frosting the pane, obscuring summer's memory...”
John Geddes

Roman Payne
“It is growing cold. Winter is putting footsteps in the meadow. What whiteness boasts that sun that comes into this wood! One would say milk-colored maidens are dancing on the petals of orchids. How coldly burns our sun! One would say its rays of light are shards of snow, one imagines the sun lives upon a snow crested peak on this day. One would say she is a woman who wears a gown of winter frost that blinds the eyes. Helplessness has weakened me. Wandering has wearied my legs.”
Roman Payne

Sarah Kay
“It is December, and nobody asked if I was ready.”
Sarah Kay

Charlotte Eriksson
“I get so god damn lonely and sad and filled with regrets some days. It overwhelms me as I’m sitting on the bus; watching the golden leaves from a window; a sudden burst of realisation in the middle of the night. I can’t help it and I can’t stop it. I’m alone as I’ve always been and sometimes it hurts…. but I’m learning to breathe deep through it and keep walking. I’m learning to make things nice for myself. To comfort my own heart when I wake up sad. To find small bits of friendship in a crowd full of strangers. To find a small moment of joy in a blue sky, in a trip somewhere not so far away, a long walk an early morning in December, or a handwritten letter to an old friend simply saying ”I thought of you. I hope you’re well.”

No one will come and save you. No one will come riding on a white horse and take all your worries away. You have to save yourself, little by little, day by day. Build yourself a home. Take care of your body. Find something to work on. Something that makes you excited, something you want to learn. Get yourself some books and learn them by heart. Get to know the author, where he grew up, what books he read himself. Take yourself out for dinner. Dress up for no one but you and simply feel nice. it’s a lovely feeling, to feel pretty. You don’t need anyone to confirm it.

I get so god damn lonely and sad and filled with regrets some days, but I’m learning to breathe deep through it and keep walking. I’m learning to make things nice for myself. Slowly building myself a home with things I like. Colors that calm me down, a plan to follow when things get dark, a few people I try to treat right. I don’t sometimes, but it’s my intent to do so. I’m learning.I’m learning to make things nice for myself. I’m learning to save myself.
I’m trying, as I always will.”
Charlotte Eriksson

Oliver Herford
“I heard a bird sing in the dark of December. A magical thing. And sweet to remember. We are nearer to Spring than we were in September. I heard a bird sing in the dark of December.”
Oliver Herford

Fennel Hudson
“December, being the last month of the year, cannot help but make us think of what is to come.”
Fennel Hudson, A Meaningful Life - Fennel's Journal - No. 1

Vera Nazarian
“Colored lights blink on and off, racing across the green boughs. Their reflections dance across exquisite glass globes and splinter into shards against tinsel thread and garlands of metallic filaments that disappear underneath the other ornaments and finery.

Shadows follow, joyful, laughing sprites.

The tree is rich with potential wonder.

All it needs is a glance from you to come alive.”
Vera Nazarian, The Perpetual Calendar of Inspiration

Sanober  Khan
“I blink January’s lashes
and gush down December’s cheeks”
Sanober Khan, Turquoise Silence

Vivian Swift
“Now is the time of fresh starts
This is the season that makes everything new.
There is a longstanding rumor that Spring is the time
of renewal, but that's only if you ignore the depressing
clutter and din of the season. All that flowering
and budding and birthing--- the messy youthfulness
of Spring actually verges on squalor. Spring is too busy,
too full of itself, too much like a 20-year-old to be the best time for reflection, re-grouping, and starting fresh.
For that you need December. You need to have lived
through the mindless biological imperatives of your life (to bud, and flower, and show off) before you can see that a landscape of new fallen snow is THE REAL YOU.
December has the clarity, the simplicity, and the silence you need for the best FRESH START of your life.”
Vivian Swift, When Wanderers Cease to Roam: A Traveler's Journal of Staying Put

Franz Kafka
“4 December. To die would mean nothing else than to surrender a nothing to the nothing, but that would be impossible to conceive, for how could a person, even only as a nothing, consciously surrender himself to the nothing, and not merely to an empty nothing but rather to a roaring nothing whose nothingness consists only in its incomprehensibility.”
Franz Kafka

Anamika Mishra
“Someone asked me when is my birthday?
The poet inside me replied,
"My birthday is on the last day of the year,
It's 31st December my dear!”
Anamika Mishra

Dante Alighieri
“Without Hope we live in desire.”
Dante Alighieri

Jerome K. Jerome
“There must be something ghostly in the air of Christmas — something about the close, muggy atmosphere that draws up the ghosts, like the dampness of the summer rains brings out the frogs and snails.”
Jerome K. Jerome, Told After Supper

Dylan Thomas
“It was snowing. It was always snowing at Christmas. December, in my memory, is white as Lapland, though there were no reindeers. But there were cats.”
Dylan Thomas, A Child's Christmas in Wales

Dylan Thomas
“The crisp path through the field in this December snow, in the deep dark, where we trod the buried grass like ghosts on dry toast.”
Dylan Thomas, Quite Early One Morning: Stories

Kenneth Grahame
“The rapid nightfall of mid-December had quite beset the little village as they approached it on soft feet over a first thin fall of powdery snow. Little was visible but squares of a dusky orange-red on either side of the street, where the firelight or lamplight of each cottage overflowed through the casements into the dark world without. Most of the low latticed windows were innocent of blinds, and to the lookers-in from outside, the inmates, gathered round the tea-table, absorbed in handiwork, or talking with laughter and gesture, had each that happy grace which is the last thing the skilled actor shall capture--the natural grace which goes with perfect unconsciousness of observation. Moving at will from one theatre to another, the two spectators, so far from home themselves, had something of wistfulness
in their eyes as they watched a cat being stroked, a sleepy child picked up and huddled off to bed, or a tired man stretch and knock out his pipe on the end of a smouldering log.”
Kenneth Grahame, The Wind in the Willows

Nescio
“It was in December. I stood in the back of the tram, all the way in the back. It drove through the country and stopped and started again, it took hours, the countryside was endless. And the sky got bluer and bluer and the sun shone until it seemed like flowers would have to start sprouting out of the country bumpkins. And the red roofs in the villages and the black trees and the fields, most of them covered with straw, had it nice and warm, and the dunes sat bareheaded in the sun. And the road lay there, white and smarting, it couldn't bear the sunlight, and the glass panes of the village streetlamp flashed, they had trouble withstanding the glare too.
But I got colder and colder. And the tram ran as long as the sun shone. It's a long ride from Hillegom to Leiden and the days are short in December. By the end, a block of ice was standing there on the tram staring into the big stupid cold sun that was flaming red as though the revolution was finally starting, as though offices were being blown up all over Amsterdam, but still it couldn't bring a spark of life back to my cold feet and stiff legs. And it kept getting bigger and colder, the sun, and I got colder and stayed the same size, and the blue sky looked down very disapprovingly: What are you doing on that tram?”
Nescio, Amsterdam Stories

Malak El Halabi
“There was warmth in his large piercing brown eyes. The kind of warmth that tucks a child into bed. The same kind of warmth that dries your wet hair on a rainy December afternoon.”
Malak El Halabi

Will  Chancellor
“By December an elastic skin of ice reached out hundreds of miles into the sea, rolling with every wave.”
Will Chancellor, A Brave Man Seven Storeys Tall

Rao Umar Javed
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor
Eagerly I wished the morrow, - vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore --
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore
–”
Rao Umar Javed, A Painter, A Performer, A Poet and A Madman

“I miss being in Barbados in December,
That is a time I always remember,
The smell of varnish on the wooden floors,
And the smell of paint on the wooden doors
The crowds in de Supermarket,
Buying up the rum,
And the music blasting
Puh rup a pum pum”
Charmaine J Forde

Kenneth Grahame
“It was a pretty sight, and a seasonable one, that met their eyes when they flung the door open. In the fore-court, lit by the dim rays of a horn lantern, some eight or ten little field-mice stood in a semicircle, red worsted comforters round their throats, their fore-paws thrust deep into their pockets, their feet jigging for warmth. With bright beady eyes they glanced shyly at each other, sniggering a little, sniffing and applying coat-sleeves a good deal. As the door opened, one of the elder ones that carried the lantern was just saying, "Now then, one, two, three!" and forthwith their shrill little voices uprose on the air, singing one of the old-time carols that their forefathers composed in fields that were fallow and held by frost, or when snow-bound in chimney corners, and handed down to be sung in the miry street to lamp-lit windows at Yule-time.”
Kenneth Grahame, The Wind in the Willows

“Novembermemeliyin beni, My sweet November..
Hep Decemberdeyim waiting for you..”
Mr.Nobody

Malak El Halabi
“I watched you storm towards the restaurant door. It was a chilly December morning and the birds sitting on the high wires in the neighborhood refused to fly any longer.”
Malak El Halabi

Samuel Beckett
“It was December, I had never felt so cold, the eel soup lay heavy on my stomach, I was afraid I'd die, I turned aside to vomit, I envied them.”
Samuel Beckett, First Love and Other Novellas

“It is never over, though we are in December!”
Ernest Agyemang Yeboah

Ryan Murphy
“I’ve come to sing you a song called December.”
Ryan Murphy, Down with the Ship

Lisa Kleypas
May and October, the best-smelling months? I'll make a case for December: evergreen, frost, wood smoke, cinnamon.
Lisa Kleypas, Love in the Afternoon

« previous 1
All Quotes | My Quotes | Add A Quote