Quotes About Seasons

I can love October in September. September doesn't care.

here in the summer desert, winter found my blood

Here in our mountains, the snow falls even on the maple leaves.

Quando si vede un arcobaleno si ha l'impressione di essere tra la primavera e l'estate.»

If you don't invite God to be your summer Guest, He won't come in the winter of your life.

Spring passes and one remembers one's innocence. Summer passes and one remembers one's exuberance. Autumn passes and one remembers one's reverence. Winter passes and one remembers one's perseverance.

England is not warmer than New England in July or August, that's true. Probably not in June either. But it is warmer in October, November, December, January, February, March, April and May - that is, in every month when warmth matters.

The rugged fallow ground under her feet seemed to her to be a symbol of faith — faith that winter would come and pass — the spring sun and rain would burst the seeds of wheat — and another summer would see the golden fields of waving grain. If she did not live to see them, they would be there just the same; and so life and nature had faith in its promise. That strange whisper was to Lenore the whisper of God.

Look lak she been livin' through uh hundred years in January without one day of spring.

So Janie waited a bloom time, and a green time and an orange time.

Then the trees, after their long silence, began to talk again, in yellow and red.

Beneficent mother of gods and men… Valiant shepherd who drives his flock, Their refuge, made to sustain them…. He makes the seasons with the months, Heat as he wishes, cold as he wishes…. Every land rejoices at his rising, Every day gives praise to him.

Cada prazer da vida se funda no retorno regular das coisas externas. A alternância do dia e da noite, das estações, das flores e dos frutos, e cada coisa que nos vem ao encontro periodicamente, porque nós podemos e devemos apreciá-las, estes são os verdadeiros estímulos da vida terrena. Quanto mais abertos estamos a tais fruições, tanto mais nos sentimos felizes' Goethe

Look at the cherry blossoms! Their color and scent fall with them, Are gone forever, Yet mindless The spring comes again.

It is a passing strange, George said. In the summer, I complained about the heat. I remember it was unbearable, but the memory no longer seems truly real. With the white ground and frost in the air, I convince myself I would give anything to sweat once more - and if I did, I do not doubt I would yearn to return to this cold. Man is a fickle creature, Richard.

With daffodils mad footnotes for the spring, And asters purple asterisks for autumn -

That's how life was, death and birth, grub and harvest, rain and clearing, winter and summer. You had to take one with the other, for that's the way it ran. The characters and situations in this work are wholly fictional and imaginary, and do not portray and are not intended to portray any actual persons or parties.

It was one of those late summer days that sometimes showed up in early October after a killing frost—warm, dry, and hazy; Indian summer. The term is over two hundred years old and was first coined by the French American writer John Hector St. John de Crèvecoeur in 1778, describing the warm calm before the winter storm.

It was one of those late summer days that sometimes showed up in early October after a killing frost—warm, dry, and hazy; Indian summer. The term is over two hundred years old, coined in 1778 by the French American writer J. Hector St. John de Crèvecoeur to describe the warm calm before the winter storm.

On the land, spring rains are the primitive artists, greening hills and valleys and coaxing flowers to vivid bud and bloom. Summer rains are the long-lived masters of color—the steadier they fall on hardwood trees in June, July, and August, the richer reds and yellows ignite the autumn foliage.

In November, some birds move away and some birds stay. The air is full of good-byes and well-wishes. The birds who are leaving look very serious. No silly spring chirping now. They have long journeys and must watch where they are going. The staying birds are serious, too, for cold times lie ahead. Hard times. All berries will be treasures.

The autumn always gets me badly, as it breaks into colours. I want to go south, where there is no autumn, where the cold doesn't crouch over one like a snow-leopard waiting to pounce.

When I moved to New York, I started switching fragrances. Between different seasons I would change fragrance, or if I was going out for a big fancy night versus going out in the daytime. But I also found that I was changing and growing so much.

I always find it difficult to dress in between seasons, but I quite like putting T-shirts on with a vest over the top and another layer so you can peel them back as the day goes on.