Quotes About Seasons

lights and moods and seasons was to see it a thousand different ways and to keep it shut in the dark—a thing made of light, that only lived in light—was wrong in more ways than I knew how to explain. More than wrong: it was crazy.

It was one thing to see a painting in a museum but to see it in all those lights and moods amd seasons was to see it a thousamd different ways

Paul said, "Continue in prayer and, "Pray without ceasing." He did not mean that people should be always on their knees, but he did mean that our prayers should be like the continual burned-offering steadily preserved in every day; that it should be like seed-time and harvest, and summer and winter, unceasingly coming round at regular seasons; that it should be like the fire on the altar, not always consuming sacrifices, but never completely going out.

But one thing is sure -I had a feeling of immense content and, if I thought at all, it was that I'd like this to go on, no-one going, no-one coming, autumn and winter always loitering around the corner, summer's ripeness lasting for ever, nothing disturbing the even tenor of my way (as I think someone may have said before me).

Will you love me in December as you do in May?

In summer heat he longed for her. When leaves turned, green to gold, he watched for her. As winter came, on feathered backs of redwing, fieldfare, and threaded through the call of curlew, he waited for her.

a gorgeous end-of-summer-just-starting-to-be-fall day. The trees swayed in the breeze. The sky was the color of cornflowers

And I can't help thinking of the birds here—how they disappear in the wintertime, heading south for food and warmth and shelter. Heading south to stay alive . . . passing us on the way

Tiene uno, como la naturaleza, sus estaciones, sus ciclos de vida? En el curso de quince o veinte días pasa una primavera y un verano en el fondo del alma, y luego viene un día violento en que nos quedamos sin hojas, y fríos, e inmóviles.

All things harmonize with me which are in harmony with thee, O Universe," he wrote; "all things are fruit to me which thy seasons bring, O Nature; from thee are all things, in thee are all things, unto thee are all things.

Like a tree, a woman can't carry the weight of two seasons simultaneously. In the violent struggle of trying, she'll miss every bit of joy each season promises to bring.

A garden did not need people in order to be alive and natural. The flowers might have died, and the last leaves might be falling, but the space was still redolent with the odors of life. It contained a thousand reassurances that no matter what one person's strife, the seasons continued their cycle.

The beach ebbed and flowed, its curves changing with every winter season. Even the cliffs were different, carved by the rain and wind, by the claws of countless scrabbling lizards, by the seeds that stuck and sprouted in their cracks. Everything was united by the steady rise and fall of nature's breath. Everything except for me.

Life is filled with rhythms-day and night, hot and cold, summer and winter, spring and fall, cloudy and clear. Likewise in a relationship, men and women have their own rhythms and cycles.

Then God said, "Let there be lights in the firmament of the heavens to divide the day from the night; and let them be for signs and seasons." The Hebrew word for "sign" is owth, which also translates as "signals." Therefore, based on the Bible, God uses the sun, moon, and stars as signals to mankind.

October, not April, would be the cruelest month.

How many lessons of faith and beauty we should lose, if there were no winter in our year!

We don't always smile in every season, but when we do, majority of times, its because God is the reason.

By the moon as I sit to seek your glory, the white roses I see, creates a new story. Seasons are many, their reasons few. What remains is that I will always love you.

Ill reach for your hand in the cold of winter, Ill reach for your hand in the heat of summer. But if my short life cant reach the dawn of spring, I promise, in heaven, Ill reach you with my wings.

After Christmas comes Lent.

The Christian year has a rhythm, each season its own tonality and coloration. Without Lent, the year is bland.

Every new dawn brings a fresh chance, it brings new hope; it sheds new light on old problems. A new chance for a new beginning again, we come to understand God by understanding ourselves; if we cannot understand God's creation. We can never understand God, remember that everything. In life is seasonal, the good times will come as the snow melts and the sunshine of spring will surely shine through.

For three weeks the earth would paint herself in every color, burst every bud, unfurl each rioting petal. Then, the wild flush of her excitement spent, she would settle down to the steady work of summer. It was my favorite time of year.