Quotes About Spring

Love must be as beautiful as spring flowers and as bright as the morning sun.

Feel happy and joyful like a fresh blooming spring flower.

Every little or big problem has a reason, Every year there is a winter season, Every trouble goes away with time, After winter spring comes with rhyme.

It is spring, let us dance and dream with flowers. Let us sing and enjoy the trees.

Spring is the time to bloom like a flower with all our beauty. It is the time to spread the fragrance of our love and fill the air with joy.

Love is like a season, it ebbs and it flows, sometimes we're like Summer, Fall and Winter, but it's Spring that I long to know.

Loveliest of trees, the cherry now Is hung with bloom along the bough.

Shut up the door: who loves me must not look / Upon the withered world, but haste to bring / His lighted candle, and his story-book, / And live with me the poetry of spring.

One of the springs of poetry is joy.

Poetry is a theorem of a yellow-silk handkerchief knotted with riddles, sealed in a balloon tied to the tail of a kite flying in a white wind against a blue sky in spring.

Oh, you cherry petals, On this calm and balmy day, Why are you so restless, So keen to fly away? / ????? ????? ???? ????? ??????

In a way winter is the real spring the time when the inner things happen the resurge of nature.

Out of the city, far away With Spring today! Where copse tufted with primrose Give me repose, Wood-sorrel and wild violet Soothe my soul's fret.

Tantarrara! the joyous Book of Spring Lies open, writ in blossoms.

There is no season such delight can bring As summer, autumn, winter and the spring.

by spring 1862 it became universal throughout Confederate regiments for the soldiers to elect their leaders from colonel down to sergeants, the very imposition of military democracy that would lead some to bemoan the demagoguery and wire-pulling with the men in order to seek election.

The little wind-flower, whose just opened eye Is blue as the spring heaven it gazes at.

mousetrap n. rodent elimination device

What matters it, O breeze, If now has come the spring When I have lost them both The garden and my nest?

He stayed out of the house, he was much of the time in the woods, he felt like some animal half domesticated but ultimately unable to resist the feral ways of the forest. The spring nights were fecund and warm and alive, and there were nights he did not come in at all.

In the spring I'd shit with the door open, watching the blackbirds

Gariguette strawberries,

But here we call it Spring, when a young man's fancy turns, fitfully, lightly, to idling in the sun, to touching in the dark. And the old man's? To worms in their garden box; stepping aside a moment in a poem that will remember, fitfully, who made it and the discord and stammer, and change of heart and catch of breath it sprang from. A bending down lightly to touch the earth.

God's goodness is the root of all goodness; and our goodness, if we have any, springs out of His goodness.