“A Christmas frost had come at midsummer; a white December storm had whirled over June; ice glazed the ripe apples, drifts crushed the blowing roses; on hayfield and cornfield lay a frozen shroud: lanes which last night blushed full of flowers, to-day were pathless with untrodden snow; and the woods, which twelve hours since waved leafy and flagrant as groves between the tropics, now spread, waste, wild, and white as pine-forests in wintry Norway.”

“...freshly cut Christmas trees smelling of stars and snow and pine resin - inhale deeply and fill your soul with wintry night...”

“It was the face of spring, it was the face of summer, it was the warmness of clover breath. Pomegranate glowed in her lips, and the noon sky in her eyes. To touch her face was that always new experience of opening your window one December morning, early, and putting out your hand to the first white cool powdering of snow that had come, silently, with no announcement, in the night. And all of this, this breath-warmness and plum-tenderness was held forever in one miracle of photographic is chemistry which no clock winds could blow upon to change one hour or one second; this fine first cool white snow would never melt, but live a thousand summers.”

“we had more people begging for snow than those that had bet on a white Christmas”

“Then I learnt of “white Christmas”, which again I found very peculiar since we always have a white Christmas at home for it never passes by without eating rice. That is our white Christmas.”

“Snow White one, Snow White two,Sorrow is coming out for you.Snow White three, Snow White four,Black as night, go lock your door.Snow White five, Snow White six,Blood red lips and crucifixSnow White seven, Snow White eight,White as snow, don’t stay out late.Snow White Nine, Snow White ten,Snow White now killed snow white then”