Winter is nature's way of saying, 'Up yours.'

Winter is nature's way of saying, "Up yours."

Winter is nature's way of saying, "Up yours.".

Spring is nature's way of saying, 'Let's party!'

Anybody who believes that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach flunked geography.

When now, unsparing as the scourge of war, Blasts follow blasts and groves dismantled roar; Around their home the storm-pinched cattle lows, No nourishment in frozen pasture grows; Yet frozen pastures every morn resound With fair abundance thund'ring to the ground.