Spring Quotes
March is a tomboy with tousled hair, a mischievous smile, mud on her shoes and a laugh in her voice.
All the spring may be hidden in the single bud, and the low ground nest of the lark may hold the joy that is to herald the feet of many rose-red dawns.
Sure Man was born to meditate on things, And to contemplate the eternal springs Of God and Nature, glory, bliss and pleasure: That life and love might be his eternal treasure.
Anyone who tries to imprison love will cut off the spring that feeds it, and the trapped water will grow stagnant and rank.
I sing of brooks, of blossoms, birds, and bowers: Of April, May, or June, and July flowers. I sing of Maypoles, Hock-carts, wassails, wakes, Of bridegrooms, brides, and of the bridal cakes.
To correct the evils, great and small, which spring from want of sympathy and from positive enmity among strangers, as nations or as individuals, is one of the highest functions of civilization.
Sweet springtime is my time is your time is our time for springtime is love time and viva sweet love.
The creak of bed springs suffering under the weight of a restless man is as lonely a sound as I know.
I do hope that our spring will be starting shortly and we will all be able to enjoy some sunshine again.
In religion faith does not spring out of feeling, but feeling out of faith. The less we feel the more we should trust. We cannot feel right till we have believed.
We should begin at the very root from which we spring, we should effect a radical reform in the character of the food.
I glanced out the window at the signs of spring. The sky was almost blue, the trees were almost budding, the sun was almost bright.
Begin today. Declare out loud to the universe that you are willing to let go of struggle and eager to learn through joy.
All through the long winter, I dream of my garden. On the first day of spring, I dig my fingers deep into the soft earth. I can feel its energy, and my spirits soar.
I had not thought of violets of late, The wild, shy kind that springs beneath you feet In wistful April days.
Spring One. Spring One. I am Eagle. I am Eagle. I can hear you very well. I feel excellent. My feeling is excellent.
In spring, nature is like a thrifty housewife ... taking up the white carpets and putting down the green ones.
At Delphi I prayed to Apollo that he maintain in me the flame of the poem and I drank of the brackish spring there.
Indoors or out, no one relaxes In March, that month of wind and taxes, The wind will presently disappear, The taxes last us all the year.
I don't know lots of things but I know this: next year when spring flows over the starting point I'll think I'm going to drown in the shimmering miles of it.
Just as a tree, though cut down, sprouts up again if its roots remain uncut and firm, even so, until the craving that lies dormant is rooted out, suffering springs up again and again.
I've tried every kind of bottled water, but Poland Spring is my go-to. I always have room-temperature bottles of it on side of stage for post-performance.
The attacks of which I have been the object have broken the spring of life in me... People don't realize what it feels like to be constantly insulted.
They will kill me but they will not kill my voice, because it will be the voice of all Afghan women. You can cut the flower, but you cannot stop the coming of spring.
Spring is the usual period for house-cleaning and removing the dust and dirt which, notwithstanding all precautions, will accumulate during the winter months from dust, smoke, gas, etc.
Death is simply a shedding of the physical body, like the butterfly coming out of a cocoon. . . . It's like putting away your winter coat when spring comes.
When I can feel you breathing into me i, like a stone gargoyle atop some crumbling building, spring to life a resuscitated angel.
No one can look at a pine tree in winter without knowing that spring will come again in due time.
Winter's done, and April's in the skies, Earth, look up with laughter in your eyes!
Everything in art must spring from the movement of our whole life-stream, of our whole being - including the unconscious.
Fiction does not spring into the world fully grown, like Athena. It is the process of writing and rewriting that makes a fiction original, if not profound.
The living self has one purpose only: to come into its own fullness of being, as a tree comes into full blossom, or a bird into spring beauty, or a tiger into lustre.
