Can’t call ‘em zombies anymore,” sighed Manny. He seemed almost wistful. “Now we gotta be all politically correct. It’s like the Cold Wars never happened.
She was cold by nature, self-love predominating over passion; rather than being virtuous, she preferred to have her pleasures all to herself.
The birds fly south for the winter not because it’s cold, but because they have wings. Similarly, love has the ultimate flight pattern, and that pattern is plaid.
I’ll put some ice in your coffee, to cover up the fact that it was already cold and old. I do this because my love for you is slightly warmer and newer.
Often I Wish I Were a potato. Eyes opened in all directions. Unafraid of the cold earth. The difference between life and death for somebody.
Your cold blood cannot be worked into a fever; your veins are full of ice water, but mine are boiling; and the sight of such chillness makes them dance
He was warm, partly because he had on many layers, and partly because boys whoa re part wolf and part wind do not get cold.
It was cold and barren. It was no longer the view that I remembered. The sunshine of her presence was far from me. The charm of her voice no longer murmured in my ear.
I’m in the bovine department. That’s where I’ll see a cow wearing a leather jacket. It’s so cold here that I can almost see Putin’s nipples.
I’ll stand by you. And by stand I mean cower in your shadow. It’s probably cold there, so I’m going to knit myself a warm cat sweater to wear.
The summer temperature outside was 45 degrees, so I turned 45 degrees and went right back inside. It was so cold outside because that’s where all her love for me was.
Statement: A girl and a boy jump into a river. The boy swims over to the girl and says, "God, it's cold." Question: What's the probability they will kiss?
Behold my Love which traveled by Sudden Days. I wash away my withered cold Hands to a Warm Embrace of You, My Eternal Summer!
I’d use my shadow as a blanket, but it’s too cold. It’s a shame, because it’d fit snuggly over my body.
I write mostly in my office in the shed outside at home, but it can get very cold. I write best on the train, among people. As a writer you spend so much time away from people.
Now, after so many years, I understand what the Coldness was and where it came from—this sense that everything is lost, and worthless, and meaningless.
Idrith didn’t want to go back to his cold lonely room, with all its unanswered questions. He took the glass and sat down.
I learned how to stop crying. I learned how to hide inside of myself. I learned how to be somebody else. I learned how to be cold and numb.
The weather was clear and still, and the countless stars opened above them, seeming like brilliant cold fruits that Maerad could simply pick out of the sky.
If you're trying to get someone who's sick with a fever off of a submarine and it's cold and raining outside, the only way in and out of a submarine, generally, is through a fairly narrow hatch.
I imagine it feels like bathing in ice to the person touching her. But how does it feel to her? Cold as she is, it must surely burn like fire.
