Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Tuns. Share them with your friends on social media platforms like Facebook, Twitter, or your personal blogs, and let the world be inspired by their powerful messages. Here are the Top 100 Tuns Quotes And Sayings by 97 Authors including Valerie Perrine,Sibylla Matilde,Ian Frazier,Stephen Spender,Arthur Guiterman for you to enjoy and share.
Minks are mean little critters. Vicous, horrible little animals who eat their own. They're not beavers. I wouldn't wear beavers. I'd rather have a mink coat made of mean little critters that are killed in a very nice way and treated nicely for their short, mean lives so that I could keep warm.
The crunch of tires in the deep snow outside could be heard through the heavy cabin walls, and she followed Wolfie to see who was there. Rhys.
Shit.
Yay.
No, shit.
Really.....shit.
Siberia is so big, it's almost more an idea than a place
Deep in the winter plain, two armies Dig their machinery, to destroy each other. Men freeze and hunger. No one is given leave On either side, except the dead, and wounded.
Oh, who would choose to be a traveler?
That anxious railway-guide unravelerWho spends his nights in berths and bunks,His days in chaperoning trunks;Who stands in line at gates and wicketsTo spend his means on costly ticketsTo Irkutsk, Liverpool and YapAnd other dots upon the map.
Troll welcomes you to Norway, (these legendary creatures live throughout the mountains of Norway)
Let's run away."
"To where?"
"Alaska."
"What's in Alaska?"
"No clue," I whispered. "Find out with me.
Siberia: it fills one twelfth of the land-mass of the whole Earth, yet this is all it leaves for certain in the mind. A bleak beauty, and an indelible fear.
Winter is coming.
It's a big formless, arctic night, the stars so bright they seem to hiss. I walk with my hands in pockets, arms pressed to my sides. Even in my down parka, the cold is still there. I feel as though my blood is crackling in it, my bones conducting cold like wires. My toes are curled in their boots.
The frolic architecture of the snow.
The streams, rejoiced that winter's work is done, Talk of to-morrow's cowslips as they run.
Deep, deep down in the deepest Deeps. Isn't that a word now, Johnny, a real word, it says so much: the Deeps. There's all the coldness and darkness and deepness in the world in a word like that.
Mykonos, which probably meant it was time for them to get
Every mile is two in winter
My dear, my native soil! For whom my warmest wish to Heav'n is sent, Long may thy hardy sons of rustic toil Be blest with health, and peace, and sweet content!
Weng lies in a hollow, buried among blocks of ice for millions of years. The roadsides favor promiscuity.
More bounteous run rivers when the ice that locked their flow melts into their waters. And when fine natures relent, their kindness is swelled by the thaw.
Two Eskimos sitting in a kayak were chilly; but when they lit a fire in the craft, it sank, proving once and for all that you can't have your kayak and heat it too.
North of Hardanger the children would run naked in warm rains like these. We don't sew our bearskins on until the sea starts to freeze,' he said.
I nearly hit him.
within the four walls of avalanches, I call out to Yeti.
Stomping my feet for warmth
on the snow
the snow eternal.
Dark gods beneath the ground in the Frostfangs,
That which would not yield, nor could forget,
Which, when it least appear'd to melt,
Intensely thought, intensely felt:
The deepest ice which ever froze
Can only o'er the surface close;
The living stream lies quick below,
And flows
and cannot cease to flow.
The Eskimos live among ice all their lives but have no single word for ice.
Ankh-Morpork, the melting pot of the world, which occasionally runs foul of lumps that don't melt.
It is good here: rustle and snow-crunch ...
Ski tracks on the splendid finery
of the snow; a memory
that long ages ago
we passed here together.
Icebergs behoove the soul (both being self-made from elements least visible) to see themselves: fleshed, fair, erected, indivisible.
The deepest rivers make least din.
This journey is not over. Our education initiatives have so much momentum, and we're committed to sharing even more stories from the Arctic when we return.
He receives comfort like cold porridge.
Nincompoops. (Quincy,
things riding mules
If flurries be the food of quests, snow on.
Nobody needs a mink coat but the mink.
The Wilds aren't safe anymore,
locomotive, Special trucks
The winter street is a salt cave. The snow has stopped falling and it's very cold. The cold is spectacular, penetrating. The street has been silenced, a theatre of whiteness, drifts like frozen waves. Crystals glisten under the streetlights.
It was cold out there, bitter, biting, cutting, piercing, hyperborean, marmoreal cold, and there were all these Minnesotans running around outdoors, happy as lambs in the spring.
I also don't trust Caribou anymore. They're out there, on the tundra, waiting ... Something's going down. I'm right about this.
The fact that the Arctic, more than any other populated region of the world, requires the collaboration of so many disciplines and points of view to be understood at all, is a benefit rather than a burden.
Before you there lie the Steppes, my darling - only the Steppes, the naked Steppes, the Steppes that are as bare as the palm of my hand. There there live only heartless old women and rude peasants and drunkards. There the trees have already shed their leaves. There abide but rain and cold.
When I grew up, I always ate Frosties Kelloggs.
It All Started with a Moose
Just one more thing. I kill Snow.
snow is overused.
No more coals to Newcastle, no more Hoares to Paris.
Cold has a thousand ways of moving in the world: on the sea it gallops like a troop of horses, on the countryside it falls like a swarm of locusts, in the cities like a knife-blade it slashes the streets and penetrates the chinks of unheated houses.
Here be dragons.
Hobbiton, a low but somehow cozy tunnel with rounded earthen sides
The stupid ducks give me nightmares.
Did you ever go to a place ... I think it was called Norway?" "No," said Arthur, "no, I didn't." "Pity," said Slartibartfast, "that was one of mine. Won an award, you know. Lovely crinkly edges. I was most upset to hear of its destruction.
Norbert the Norwegian Ridgeback
That isn't the plural of moose. It's moosi.
It would appear that the natural frontier of Russia runs from Dantzic or perhaps Stettin to Trieste.
We'll fight 'em until hell freezes over, then we'll fight 'em on the ice.
To experience the northern forest in the raw, I went to northern Finland and Lapland, travelling on horseback, and sleeping on reindeer skins in the traditional open-fronted Finnish laavu. I ate elk heart, reindeer and lingonberries, and tried out spruce resin: the chewing gum of the Stone Age.
The Arctic is the planet's air conditioner and it's starting to break down.
A bunker, truck, trolls, all the same, a hard target.
I am a rune a carrot a little joke
What is that?"
"A hunt," Puck replied, looking off into the distance. He grimaced. "You know, I was just thinking we needed to be run down like rabbits and torn apart. My day just isn't complete without something trying to kill me."
-Puck
Reader, do you know, as I do, what terror those cold people can put into the ice of their questions? How much of the fall of the avalanche is in their anger? of the breaking up of the frozen sea in their displeasure?
I wander forth this chill December dawn: John Frost and all his elves are out, I see, As busy as the elfin world can be, Clothing a world asleep with fleecy lawn.
Dark spruce frowned on either side of the frozen waterway.
Even in climes/without snow/one cannot go/foward sometimes./Things test you./You are part of/the Donners or/part of the rescue:/a muleteer in/earflaps; a/formerly hearty/Midwestern farmer/perhaps. Both/parties trapped/within sight/of the pass.
Rising up starkly over the snowy plain, and that the plebs were flocking out
only ice against which they can whisper, and who has any joy in scheming against winter herself? All
The Arctic Ocean encircles with a belt of eternal ice the desert confines of Siberia and North America
the uttermost limits of the Old and New worlds, separated by the narrow, channel, known as Behring's Straits.
Assets are cold.
Of the seven butchers who interest us, four are Tatars and three are Yids. They're at the top of the list of suspects. But, to avoid any reproaches of prejudice, I'm arresting the lot. And I'll give them a thorough working over. I
The Cavelries hear and their short and furrie
I'm relentless. My mother says I could sell ice to the Eskimos.
Watch out where the Huskies go
And don't you eat that yellow snow
To be injured on this tundra would lead to a quick and painful death - or at the very least abject humiliation before the popping flashes of the tourist season's tail end, which was slightly less painful than a painful death, but lasted longer.
The boys were going to a place that none had ever been before, to serve an order that had been the enemy of their kith and kin for thousands of years, yet Jon saw no tears, heard no wailing mothers. These are winter's people, [ ... ] tears freeze upon your cheeks where they come from.
Snow is the only one of us that leaves no tracks.
Wherever there is a channel for water, there is a road for the canoe.
We've made it! This is it! Look Lusa, that's the ice - it's what I've been telling you about for so long!
It is from Alaska that we send those out to make sure that an eye is being kept on this very powerful nation, Russia.
The cabin will return to the soil when abandoned by its owner, yet in its simplicity it offers perfect protection against the seasonal cold without disfiguring the sheltering forest. With the yurt and the igloo, it figures among the handsomest human responses to environmental adversity.
His icebergs are strange monuments with a symbol embodied in their form and their colours. They do not freeze you when you look at them, for they are not of ice, they are what Lawren Harris feels and thinks after he has contemplated them
A sea setting us upon the ice has brought us close to danger.
Rogerson," I asked him sweetly as we sat watching a video in the pool house, "where would I find the pelagic zone?"
"In the open sea," he said. "Now shut up and eat your Junior Mints.
It's early on a beautiful winter morning. The house is quiet. The sun is shining. I'm thankful. I'm happy. My cup runneth over. Now there's coffee everywhere.
This thaw
took a while to thaw, it's going to take a while to unthaw.
The fire that burns against the cold.
Doldrums, n.
The proper verb for depression is sink.
Here, just below the Earth's summit, there are towns and villages, a tangle of human lives, in the shadow of Arctic eschatology.
Winter was coming; the
Squirrels, otters, hedgehogs, mice,
Moles with fur like sable,
Gathered in good spirits all,
Round the festive table.
Sit we down to eat and drink.
Friends, before we do, let's think,
Fruit of forest, field and banks,
To the seasons we give thanks.
If it ain't tubes, we don't do it.
Tunner's presence created a situation, however slight, which kept him from entering into the reflective state he considered essential.
Scientists estimate that the Siberian permafrost holds the remains of 150 million mammoths - or about 8 million more than the 142 million Russians aboveground in Russia today.
O to be in finland/ now that russia's here)
They said 'ski', but they heard 'vodka'!
Please God, please Knut Hamsun, don't desert me now. I started to write and I wrote:
The time has come, the Walrus said,
To talk of many things:
Of shoes - and ships - and sealing-wax
Of cabbages - and kings -
No one in the world needs a mink coat but a mink.
There are few, if any, Canadian men that have never spelled their name in a snow bank.
Elves and Dragons! Cabbages and potatoes are better for me and you. Don't go getting mixed up in the business of your betters, or you'll land in trouble too big for you.
~Hamfast Gamgee (the Gaffer)
Canada is built on dead beavers.
anchorages. As the war progressed, the advanced