Sometimes, Nathaniel, friends can be like nice boots on a drowning man.
Asphyxia -- A Smut Saga, Vol. 1[Kandinsky] arrived, as they say, 'with snow on his boots', and it never really melted.
The Reach of Modern Art: A Concise HistoryI like the crunch sound of snow under my boots. Better than stepping on knuckles.
Seriously delirious, but not at all serious