Two women placed together makes cold weather

This place is too cold for hell

I do not ask you much:I beg cold comfort.

Is pale cold cowardice in noble breasts.

The sun did not shine. It was too wet to play. So we sat in the house. All that cold, cold, wet day.

. . .and every native has a story of winter – stories that usually begin, You call this a storm? And grow in the telling like battle tales shared by graying war veterans. It’s a peculiar character flaw to those of us from cold climates that we feel superior to those who have the sense to live elsewhere.