Quotes About Spring

The 1918 epidemic came in two waves, a mild flu in the spring of 1918 followed by the killer flu in the fall.

The 1918 epidemic came in two waves, a mild flu in the spring of 1918 followed by the killer flu in the fall. And it seemed that the two flu strains were closely related. Infection with the first strain protected against the second

What was it Chekhov once said? 'We live for love, and for hope and dreams, and for the small things that please us and for little else.' It would be pleasant too if the snow was gone and it was spring again.

Aria di primavera, perché mi desti? Tu lusinghi e dici: io do in rugiada gocciole di cielo. Ma il tempo del mio sfiorire è presso, vicina è la bufera che abbatte la mia fronda.

China's Dragon Boat Festival in June honors Qu Yuan, an official who drowned himself in 278 B.C. to protest corruption in the Spring and Autumn Period.

April is a time of wonder, when the spring peepers emerge from hibernation and begin to call, when robins and redwing blackbirds come back north, and when new green life appears. That is one of the greatest of all wonders, the growth of a bud and a leaf from a seed or a root that has lain dormant in the earth all winter.

Pink-footed, sleekly white or delicate fawn, Or darlier plumed, with glossy throat where clings One soft perpetual ripple of rainbow rings, How often to your beauty our sight is drawn When back from roamings wide you suddenly dawn, A dainty turbulence of fluttering wings, And light on some brown slanted roof, like Spring's Pale showers of blossoms on an orchard lawn!...

Spring itself is Faith. In all its glory and color the true nature of our being is being reborn. Faith roots in our souls and grows in our hearts. Faith is the very beat of our hearts. Faith is the air we breathe. Faith is the lump in our throats and the tears we shed. Faith is the first rose that blooms.

The most serious charge which can be brought against New England is not Puritanism, but February.... Spring is too far away to comfort even by anticipation, and winter long ago lost the charm of novelty. This is the very three a.m. of the calendar.

With the lengthening days which distinguish the third month of winter from its predecessor, come ardent desires for spring, and longings for the time of birds and flowers. An adventurous swallow too early flying from the south, a vision of snowdrops in the snow, a day of April warmth lit by a slant February sun, are all hailed with pleasure as harbingers of a more gracious season on its northland way.

The lovely flowers embarrass me, They make me regret I am not a bee –

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

You smell the lilac and there comes flooding back the memories of the days when you first knew lilacs and carried them about as if they were the queen-flower of the world.

plum blossoms in the moonlit glow of a late February calm cool night — magical soul-stirring springtime sight

If you've never been thrilled to the very edges of your soul by a flower in spring bloom, perhaps your soul has never been in bloom.

As is the generation of leaves, so is that of humanity. The wind scatters the leaves on the ground, but the live timber Burgeons with leaves again in the season of spring returning. So one generation of men will grow while another dies.

Gouty pains do chiefly stir spring and fall.

The spring breathes in the breezes, The woods with wood-notes ring, And all the budding hedgerows Are fragrant of the spring. In secret, silent places The live green things upstart; Ice-bound, ice-crown'd dwells winter For ever in my heart.

Hope whispers from every hyacinth-bell...

The sap was rising in the pines. The willows and aspens were bursting out in young buds. Shrubs and vines were putting on fresh garbs of green. Crickets sang in the nights, and in the days all manner of creeping, crawling things rustled forth into the sun. Partridges and woodpeckers were booming and knocking in the forest. Squirrels were chattering, birds singing, and overhead honked the wild-fowl driving up from the south in cunning wedges that split the air. From

Early on a spring morning, Policemen Robert Coffman and Jack Carter are working the night watch out of Central Division.

So I leave flowers; spring flowers, then summer flowers. I gather the red and orange and yellow trumpet flowers, for a trumpet is a thing that makes a loud noise like a shout, and I tie their vines together and leave them to shout I love you in a row from Miranda's window-ledge.

But in spring, of course, any place is beautiful, because in spring fires leap from your heart, and you can see things that aren't there.

I scarcely know how to describe that room. It became, in a way, every room I had ever been in and every room I find myself in hereafter will remind me of Giovanni's room. I did not really stay there very long—we met before the spring began and I left there during the summer—but it still seems to me that I spent a lifetime there. Life in that room seemed to be occurring underwater, as I say, and it is certain that I underwent a sea-change there.