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“By March, the worst of the winter would be over. The snow would thaw, the rivers begin to run and the world would wake into itself again.

Not that year.

Winter hung in there, like an invalid refusing to die. Day after grey day the ice stayed hard; the world remained unfriendly and cold.”
― Neil Gaiman, Odd and the Frost Giants

“she was a beautiful place to bare my legs.”
― Nayyirah Waheed, Salt

“When you run, run to me”
― Catherine Anderson

“He utilizes
form for a striking lecture;
young poets shiver

inexperience,
but thaw over their own work,
fertilize magic.”
― Kristen Henderson, Of My Maiden Smoking