If one sweater and one jacket can’t hold back the coldness when sitting still in a shabby study room, the winter has come.
The freezing wind and the gloomy sky helps to reduce the levity within us, which has occupied our brains for the past three seasons.
Some base minds plainly fear it, for they are but physical things, crawl and retreat in the coldness. I feel sorry for them as human beings, and wonder animals might suit them better, since hibernation is all they need.
Winter is always better than Spring, for revealing the truth of the end often involves the truth of the beginning, but hardly vice versa.
When the wind blows like a chilling blade that almost blinds my sight, I see things more clearly than I did when wandering under the sunshine in Summer.
All platitude and vanity laid to rest, time for the sound of silence to arise:
People hearing without listening,
People writing the songs that voices never share,
And no one dare,
Disturb the sound of silence.
Winter, thy name is pride.