Alala/Introduction

“That time of year thou mayst in me behold

When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang

Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,

Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.

In me thou seest the twilight of such day

As after sunset fadeth in the west,

Which by and by black night doth take away,

Death's second self, that seals up all in rest.

In me thou see'st the glowing of such fire

That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,

As the death-bed whereon it must expire

Consumed with that which it was nourish'd by.

This thou perceivest, which makes thy love more strong,

To love that well which thou must leave ere long.”

― William Shakespeare

“Winter is the time for comfort, for good food and warmth, for the touch of a friendly hand and for a talk beside the fire: it is the time for home.”

― Edith Sitwell

“Winter is not a season, it's an occupation.”

― Sinclair Lewis

“The season was waning fast

Our nights were growing cold at last

I took her to bed with silk and song,

'Lay still, my love, I won’t be long;

I must prepare my body for passion.'

'O, your body you give, but all else you ration.'

'It is because of these dreams of a sylvan scene:

A bleeding nymph to leave me serene...

I have dreams of a trembling wench.'

'You have dreams,' she said, 'that cannot be quenched.'

'Our passion,' said I, 'should never be feared;

As our longing for love can never be cured.

Our want is our way and our way is our will,

We have the love, my love, that no one can kill.'

'If night is your love, then in dreams you’ll fulfill...

This love, our love, that no one can kill.'

Yet want is my way, and my way is my will,

Thus I killed my love with a sleeping pill.”

― Roman Payne