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I remember three- and four-week-long snow days, and drifts so deep a small child, namely me, could get lost in them. No such winter exists in the record, but that's how Ohio winters seemed to me when I was little - silent, silver, endless, and dreamy.

Occasionally I have come across a last patch of snow on top of a mountain in late May or June. There's something very powerful about finding snow in summer.

A snow day literally and figuratively falls from the sky, unbidden, and seems like a thing of wonder.

We have had a very severe frost and deep snow this month. My thermometer was one day fourteen degrees and a half below the freezing point, within doors.

A lot of people like snow. I find it to be an unnecessary freezing of water.

I think snow is so evocative and has such a powerful atmosphere.

I grew up in Chicago, and there was always snow. In Los Angeles there never was, so we would always import snow!

I had forgotten how thrilling a snow day is until my son started school, and as much as he loves it, he swoons at the idea of a free day arriving unexpectedly, laid out like a gift.

The snow itself is lonely or, if you prefer, self-sufficient. There is no other time when the whole world seems composed of one thing and one thing only.

The oil sequence was about two or three days. It was very cold and was snowing.