Quotes About Seasons

Soon we will plunge into the cold darkness; Farewell, vivid brightness of our too-short summers!

Blanc called me when he was in the United States and I was still on holiday. He said he was very happy to recruit me, that he had wanted me for several seasons. Obviously, this gave me an added incentive to sign for PSG.

I auditioned equally for film and theater. The difference is that theater has seasons, while film, it's always happening.

And Summer, dear Summer, hath years of June, With large white clouds, and cool showers at noon; And a beauty that grows to a weight like grief, Till a burst of tears is the heart's relief.

It is not the high summer alone that is God's. The winter also is His. And into His winter He came to visit us. And all man's winters are His – the winter of our poverty, the winter of our sorrow, the winter of our unhappiness – even "the winter of our discontent." Adela Cathcart, vol. 1, ch. 2

It was not that the youth had turned again from the hope of rest in the Son of Man; but that, as everyone knows who knows anything of the human spirit, there must be in its history days and seasons, mornings and nights, yea deepest midnights. It has its alternating summer and winter, its storm and shine, its soft dews and its tempests of lashing hail, its cold moons and prophetic stars, its pale twilights of saddest memory, and its golden gleams of brightest hope.

The year's fruit must fall that the next year's may come, and the winter is the only way to the spring.

The days glided by. The fervid Summer slid away round the shoulder of the world, and made room for her dignified matron sister; my lady Autumn swept her frayed and discoloured train out of the great hall-door of the world, and old brother Winter, who so assiduously waits upon the house, and cleans its innermost recesses, was creeping around it, biding his time, but eager to get to his work.

Spring, spring! Bytuene Mershe ant Averil, when spray biginneth to spring! When shaws be sheene and swards full fayre, and leaves both large and longe! When the hounds of spring are on winter's traces, in the spring time, the only pretty ring time, when the birds do sing, hey-ding-a-ding ding, cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-wee, ta-witta-woo! And so on and so on and so on. See almost any poet between the Bronze Age and 1805.

To be interested in the changing seasons is . . . a happier state of mind than to be hopelessly in love with spring.

Summer died under the weight of fallen leaves and autumn filled up the ruts in the road with rainwater like blood filling fresh clawmarks.

The pink petals hung raw and shook with the cold and wind. How they hung on out of season, the struggle of it, the strength it took. Not long now, and they'd be brown stains on a stalk.

A virgin a whole virgin is judged made and so between curves and outlines and real seasons and more out glasses and a perfectly unprecedented arrangement between old ladies and mild colds there is no satin wood shining.

Climate impacts hit working people first, and with extreme weather events, changing seasons, and rising sea levels, whole communities stand on the front lines.

He who marvels at the beauty of the world in summer will find equal cause for wonder and admiration in winter.

I taught world history. I understand there was an Ice Age... seasons come and seasons go. I do not believe the world's going to end because of the 2 percent man-made greenhouse gas emissions in the atmosphere. And even if it were, we're not going to stop it.

There is a time in the last few days of summer when the ripeness of autumn fills the air.

In the springtime, we have softshell crab from Maryland, which I'd never had until I came to America. In the summer and early fall, we have striped bass, 'stripeys,' which come all the way up the Hudson River but mostly gather in the sound at the tip of Long Island, off Montauk.

For women, my best travel tip is to invest in two to three cashmere ponchos. I buy the brand Minnie Rose. They're good cover in three seasons, and they make wonderful travel blankets.

I hope to play in the NBA for many seasons, establish my position, and win titles.

winter in downeast Maine makes summer seem like something that only happens to other, more fortunate people, probably on some other planet.

We are always looking forward to the passing and ending of winter, but when summer is here it seems as if summer must always last. As I went across the fields that day, I found myself half lamenting that the world must fade again, even that the best of her budding and bloom was only a preparation for another spring-time, for an awakening beyond the coming winter's sleep.

But he [the gardener] works in a fourth dimension as well: time.

There's a word in Japanese for being sad in the springtime – a whole word for just being sad – about how pretty the flowers are and how soon they're going to die." — Sarah Ruhl