J R R Tolkien - Samuel Taylor Coleridge - Thomas Hood - J K Rowling -
Deep roots are not reached by frost. J R R Tolkien
Whether the eave-drops fall
Heart only in the trances of the blast
Or if the secret ministry of frost
Shall hang them up in silent icicles
Quietly shining to the quiet moon. Samuel Taylor Coleridge, Frost at Midnight
Frost is the greatest artist in our clime –
He paints in Nature and describes in rime. Thomas Hood
October extinguished itself in a rush of howling winds and driving rain and November arrived, cold as frozen iron, with hard frosts every morning and icy drafts that bit at exposed hands and faces. J K Rowling, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix