Quotes About Spring

I wish the storm would make even more of a clatter, I wish the roofs would cave in, that spring would never come again, and that the house would blow down.

It was in the spring that Josephine and I had first loved each other, or, at least, had first come into the full knowledge that we loved. I think that we must have loved each other all our lives, and that each succeeding spring was a word in the revelation of that love, not to be understood until, in the fullness of time, the whole sentence was written out in that most beautiful of all beautiful springs.

Talent is a spring from which fresh water is constantly flowing. But this spring loses its value if it is not used in the right way.

El jilguero canta en la jaulita colgada entre las cortinas de la ventana. ¿Siente quizá la primavera que se aproxima? Ay de mí, quizá la siente también el antiguo tronco de nogal con el que fue hecha mi silla, que ahora cruje con el canto del jilguero. Tal vez se hablan, con ese canto y con este crujido, el pájaro enjaulado y el nogal reducido a silla.

The Spring can be more painful than any other time of the year. Summer is lazy and indifferent. Autumn is demanding and invigorating. Winter is numb and self-contained, but Spring has none of the palliatives. Every emotional nerve is close to the surface. Every sound and sight, every touch of the air is a summons to feel, to open your doors, to let life possess you and do what it likes with you.

If you turn your face to the Sun, my boy, your soul will, when you come to die, feel like an autumn, with the golden fruits of the earth hanging in rich clusters ready to be gathered – not like a winter. You may feel ever so worn, but you will not feel withered. You will die in peace, hoping for the spring – and such a spring!

My lover. Oh come to me again as once in May.

Measure your health by your sympathy with morning and Spring.

Dementia. Ruth puzzled over the diagnosis: How could such a beautiful-sounding word apply to such a destructive disease? It was a name befitting a goddess: Dementia, who caused her sister Demeter to forget to turn winter into spring.

their life will be made of the same stuff as this spring afternoon.

In the suburbs of Delaware, spring meant not young love and damp flowers but an ugly divorce from winter and a second marriage to buxom summer.

the fountain of content must spring up in the mind: and that he who has so little knowledge of human nature, as to seek happiness by changing any thing but his own dispositions, will waste his life in fruitless efforts, and multiply the griefs which he purposes to remove .

O happy things! no tongue Their beauty might declare: A spring of love gished from my heart, And I blessed them unaware

There is a winter ahead such as I think we cannot imagine, but remember that spring always follows.

I'm waiting to hear the engine spring to life. But nothing happens. Of course. The bloody battery is dead. I

They never tell you, those poets and those lovers, that hatred and agony can take on solid substance on a green and gold spring morning, or that it can smell of newly-fried bacon and eggs.

Ah, spring. May 1778, specifically. Coming up on cannon weather. But then who needs to pay for gunpowder when heatstroke kills for free?

Astfel se deschide mugurul iubirii în întreaga sa frumuse?e ?i modestie. Mi se p?rea c? o prim?var? întreag? ?i-ar fi scuturat deodat? florile peste mine.

Nada me aborrece mais do que ver as pessoas se atormentarem umas as outras: e sobretudo os jovens, na primavera da vida, quando o coração podia desabrochar todas as alegrias, estragarem reciprocamente os seus melhores dias para reconhecer mais tarde que esbanjaram bens que nunca mais serão recuperados.

Die Nachtigall, sie war entfernt, Der Frühling lockt sie wieder; Was Neues hat sie nicht gelernt, Singt alte liebe Lieder.

The prospect is chilling, on every Side. Gloomy, dark, melancholy, and dispiriting. When and where will the light spring up?

All things seem mention of themselves And the names which stem from them branch out to other referents. Hugely, spring exists again.

Nature, --.... Her song of gratitude is sung by spring's awakening hours, Her summer offers at Thy shrine its earliest, loveliest flowers; Her autumn brings its ripened fruits, in glorious luxury given, While winter's silver heights reflect Thy brightness back to heaven!

The eyes were of a color which he could never decide on, afterwards when he told the story he used to say they were the color of everything in Spring.