The sound of crunching snow is the only break in the silence of the wilderness.
Ice indeed has a voice. It has a song. It sings in cracks and booms, sizzles in the water, whistles in the wind.
Ice burns, and it is hard to the warm-skinned to distinguish one sensation, fire, from the other, frost.
The only real security that a man can have in this world is a reserve of knowledge, experience and ability.
Winter forms our character and brings out our best.
In skating over thin ice, our safety is in our speed.
Snow and ice can change a landscape completely, making it unrecognizable.
The snow doesn't give a soft white damn whom it touches.
The ice was his friend now and it would keep him alive. It was a bad enemy but a good friend.
Ice can be cold and even cruel, but it's also capable of great beauty and wonder.
Ice burns, and freezes fire.
Winter is not a season, it's a celebration.
Ice is the greatest of purifiers, and water the finest of solvents.
Ice is nature's sculpture.
To appreciate the beauty of a snowflake, it is necessary to stand out in the cold.
The world is changing, and there's ice in the veins of men where there should be fire.
The ice was here, the ice was there, the ice was all around. It cracked and growled, and roared and howled, like noises in a swound!