Quotes About Spring

"In the spring I have counted one hundred and thirty-six different kinds of weather inside of four and twenty hours."

The spring of love becomes hidden and soon filled up.

"Spring has come when you can put your foot on three daisies."

"I love spring anywhere, but if I could choose I would always greet it in a garden."

The madness of spring is so enticing. I love it when things are opening up and emerging from the ground. I also love the middle of summer when fruit is bursting forth, but I even love the garden in the winter when everything is resting.

You think the winter will never end, and then, when you don't expect it, when you have almost forgotten it, warmth comes and a different light.

I remember too how spring came, just when I thought it might stay winter forever, at first in little touches and strokes of green lighting up the bare mud like candle flames, and then it covered the whole place with a light pelt of shadowy grass blades and leaves. And I remember how, as the days and the winds passed over, the foliage shifted and sang.

The pasture, bleached and cold two weeks ago, Begins to grow in the spring light and rain;

From cloud to sea to cloud, I climb The deer road through the leafless trees Under a wind that batters limb On limb, still roaring as it has Two nights and days, cold in slow spring. But ancient song in a wild throat Recalls itself and starts to sing In storm-cleared light...

Pluck thou my flower, Oothoon the mild; Another flower shall spring, because the soul of sweet delight Can never pass away.

The sun does arise, And make happy the skies. The merry bells ring To welcome the spring. The skylark and thrush, The birds of the bush, Sing louder around, To the bells' cheerful sound, While our sports shall be seen On the echoing green.

Selfish father of men! Cruel, jealous, selfish fear! Can delight, Chained in night, The virgins of youth and morning bear. 'Does spring hide its joy When buds and blossoms grow? Does the sower Sow by night, Or the plowman in darkness plow? 'Break this heavy chain, That does freeze my bones around! Selfish, vain, Eternal bane, That free Love with bondage bound.

Lifeless in appearance, sluggish dazed spring approaches- They enter the new world naked, cold, uncertain of all save that they enter. All about them the cold, familiar wind- Now the grass, tomorrow the stiff curl of wildcarrot leaf One by one objects are defined- It quickens: clarity, outline of leaf But now the stark dignity of entrance-Still, the profound change has come upon them: rooted, they grip down and begin to awaken

It is just dawn, daylight: that gray and lonely suspension filled with the peaceful and tentative waking of birds. The air, inbreathed, is like spring water. He breathes deep and slow, feeling with each breath himself diffuse in the natural grayness, becoming one with loneliness and quiet that has never known fury or despair. That was all I wanted, he thinks, in a quiet and slow amazement. That was all, for thirty years. That didn't seem to be a whole lot to ask in thirty years.

It does last, Horace said. Spring does. You'd almost think there was some purpose to it.

In the afternoon when school was out and the last one had left with his little dirty snuffling nose, instead of going home I would go down the hill to the spring where I could be quiet and hate them.

He went on down the hill toward the dark woods within which the liquid silver voices of the birds called unceasing- the rapid and urgent beating o the urgent and quiring heart of the late spring night. He did not look back.

In the spring a young man's fancy turns … pretty fancy.

In 1918, after the last defeat, the Kaiser had fled, the monarchy had tumbled, but the other traditional institutions supporting the State had remained, a government chosen by the people had continued to function, as did the nucleus of a German Army and a General Staff. But in the spring of 1945 the Third Reich simply ceased to exist.

Happiness is like a sunbeam, which the least shadow intercepts, while adversity is often as the rain of spring.

After the war of course it will be like the start of spring, which is always so brilliantly sudden. The leaves will burst back onto the trees and close the gaps between the branches and we shall be startled - shan't we? - s we are startled at the end of every winter. We shall think: oh, I had quite forgotten there were three livable seasons.

The stark gray sky and bare tree limbs feel more suited to her than the uncomplicated promise of sunny spring days.

Spring bursts today, For love is risen and all earth's at play.

A Daughter of Eve... Talk what you please of future spring And sun-warm'd sweet to-morrow: Stripp'd bare of hope and everything, No more to laugh, no more to sing, I sit alone with sorrow.