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Spring

  • ... however long we have to live, there are never enough springs.

  • In spring, nature is like a thrifty housewife ... taking up the white carpets and putting down the green ones ...

  • Spring is my sweetheart ...

  • Spring ... made fair false promises which summer was called upon to keep.

  • O spring, I know thee! Seek for sweet surprise / In the young children's eyes. / But I have learnt the years, and know the yet / Leaf-folded violet.

  • I am thankful that in a troubled world no calamity can prevent the return of spring.

  • She dares — the young Spring — to dance on that ancient grave, / To dance with delicate feet / On the world's despair and defeat, / On the Winter that covers all / With an ashen pall.

  • Every year, back Spring comes, with the nasty little birds yapping their fool heads off, and the ground all mucked up with arbutus.

  • The smell of moist earth and lilacs hung in the air like wisps of the past and hints of the future.

  • In our climate what a misnomer it is to call this season spring! very much like calling Calvinism religion.

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

  • Birds that cannot even sing — / Dare to come again in spring!

  • Spring, / you are a pinking shears: you cut / fresh edges on the world.

  • There was only — spring itself, the throb of it, the light restlessness, the vital essence of it everywhere; in the sky, in the swift clouds, in the pale sunshine, and in the warm high wind — rising suddenly, sinking suddenly, impulsive ... If I had been tossed down blindfold on that red prairie, I should have known that it was spring.

  • The air and the earth interpenetrated in the warm gusts of spring; the soil was full of sunlight, and the sunlight full of red dust. The air one breathed was saturated with earthy smells, and the grass under foot had a reflection of blue sky in it.

  • Spring cold is like the poverty of a poor man who has had a fortune left him — better days are coming ...

  • Spring, which germinated in the earth, moved also, with a strange restlessness, in the hearts of men and women. As the weeks passed, that inextinguishable hope, which mounts always with the rising sap, looked from their faces.

  • There is a terrible loneliness in the spring ...

  • It was a perfect spring afternoon, and the air was filled with vague, roving scents, as if the earth exhaled the sweetness of hidden flowers.

  • Spring was running in a thin green flame over the Valley.

  • A mark was on him from the day's delight, so that all his life, when April was a thin green and the flavor of rain was on his tongue, an old wound would throb and a nostalgia would fill him for something he could not quite remember.

  • She walks among the loveliness she made, / Between the apple-blossom and the water - / She walks among the patterned pied brocade, / Each flower her son, and every tree her daughter.

  • ... even as human vitality is at its lowest ebb in the early morning, so it is with plant life in the early spring.

  • ... autumn arrives in the early morning, but spring at the close of a winter day.

  • Everything is new in the spring. Springs themselves are always so new, too. No spring is ever just like any other spring. It always has something of its own to be its own peculiar sweetness.

  • Nothing ever seems impossible in spring, you know.

  • Everything here is yellow and green. / Listen to its throat, its earthskin, / the bone dry voices of the peepers / as they throb like advertisements.

    • Anne Sexton,
    • "It Is a Spring Afternoon," Love Poems ()
  • Spring's first conviction is a wealth beyond its whole experience.

    • Emily Dickinson,
    • 1883, in Mabel Loomis Todd, ed., Letters of Emily Dickinson, vol. 2 ()
  • The older I grow the more do I love spring and spring flowers. Is it so with you?

    • Emily Dickinson,
    • in Mabel Loomis Todd, ed., The Letters of Emily Dickinson 1845-1886 ()
  • Spring is the Period / Express from God.

    • Emily Dickinson,
    • in Mabel Loomis Todd and Millicent Todd Bingham, eds., Bolts of Melody: New Poems ()
  • ... A little Madness in the Spring / Is wholesome even for the King.

    • Emily Dickinson,
    • c. 1875, in Thomas H. Johnson, ed., The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson ()
  • The life of the earth comes up with a rush in the springtime. All the wild seeds of weed and thistle, the sprouts of vine and bush and tree, are trying to take the fields. Farmers must fight them with harrow and plow and hoe; they must plant the good seeds quickly.

  • Every spring is the only spring, a perpetual astonishment.

  • ... winter is past, and we have a prospect of spring that is superior to spring itself.

    • Madame de Sévigné,
    • 1690, Letters of Madame de Sévigné to Her Daughter and Her Friends, vol. 9 ()
  • The Spring is generally fertile in new acquaintances.

    • Fanny Burney,
    • 1774, in Annie Raine Ellis, ed., The Early Diary of Frances Burney, vol. 1 ()
  • Spring is always cruel, with its false promise of resurrection ...

  • The American spring is like the country itself: abundant, rich, flowing over you like a full tide. ... Azaleas were suddenly ablaze. White dogwoods stood like brides in the wood — these trees of all colors were new to me; one does not meet them in Europe, and dogwood cannot even be transplanted to other continents. White and pink magnolias, yellowish rhododendrons, all of them lived happily side by side with our ordinary lilacs and lilies of the valley — the Russian symbols of spring.

  • It was like watching from a distance the approach of a friend to see the tender green of the budding trees start in the coves and valleys, and climb slowly up the mountain sides, to burst at last into sudden glory of leaf and bloom at the top.

  • Another May new buds and flowers shall bring; / Ah, why has happiness — no second Spring?

  • In the spring, at the end of the day, you should smell like dirt.

  • Springtime is a season we tend to forget as we grow older, and yet far back in our memories, like the landscape of a country visited long ago, it's always there.

    • Kay Boyle,
    • in Marilyn Yalom, Women Writers of the West Coast: Speaking of Their Lives and Careers ()
  • All ye who love the springtime — and who but loves it well / When the little birds do sing, and the buds begin to swell! — / Think not ye ken its beauty or know its face so dear, / Till ye look upon old Ireland, in the dawning o' the year!

    • Mary Elizabeth Blake,
    • "The Dawning of the Year," in Edmund Clarence Stedman, An American Anthology 1787-1900 ()
  • When you fall in love, it is spring no matter when. Leaves falling make no difference, they are from another season ...

    • Edna O'Brien,
    • "Diary of an Unfaithful Wife," in Cosmopolitan ()
  • At last the spring came, when Nature and Hope wake up together ...

  • The heart, sir, is always ready for spring.

  • You've got maybe four special springs in your life, all the others recall them.

  • ... spring come struttin through the swamp, high-bosomed and hi-switchety as a fly-up-the-creek gal on Saturday night.

  • ... with the spring a sort of inspiration is wakened in the most prosaic of us. The same spirit of change that thrills the saplings with fresh vitality sends through human veins a creeping ecstasy of new life.

  • It was a time of intense wonder in the north, after the long, harsh months when the heart is shut out from communion with the earth.

  • A softness was unfurling like silk ribbons in the pale air, and the earth was breaking into tiny warm rifts from which stole a new green.

  • Everywhere he looked he saw new shoots of heartbreakingly tender green; grass and bud and leaf, springing into life. Living, growing beings, certain of their place on the wheel of the seasons, sure of their destiny of flowering and fulfillment.

  • I think that the Almighty gave springtime to a tired world so that its peoples might know rest. I think that He gave it to a troubled world so that the world's inhabitants might find peace. I think He gave it to a discouraged world so that hope and faith might be reborn!

  • After much backing and filling, much coyness, much coquetry, spring returned. She spent all of March and part of April coming to town for a day or two, smiling and winking, and flying away again. But at last, early in April, she quit fooling around and settled down for her allotted time.

  • Is it robin o'clock? / Is it five after wing? / Is it quarter to leaf? / Is it nearly time for spring?

  • ... the spring air is soft as pin feathers ...

  • Of all the sad things in this world that are, / The saddest is a lonely heart in Spring, / Lone as a tawny thrush with broken wing, / Silent, when woodlands sing.

  • Oh, I'm longing and I'm yearning for the Spring!

  • Spring was coming back with the old promise, demanding the old sacrifice.

  • Spring glides gradually into the farmer's consciousness, but on us city people it bursts with all the relish of a sudden surprise, compensating for much of what we lose.

  • With the coming of the first robin a peculiar elation possesses me. However blustering and snowy the March winds, they cannot fool me now. Youth and hope assert their eternal sway and melt the frozen rills of my being as surely as the sunshine is breaking up every brook that must find its way to the sea.

  • She had one standard reaction to spring, and that was to plant something.

  • A delicate fabric of bird song / Floats in the air, / The smell of wet wild earth / Is everywhere.

  • I dote the baple buds are swellig — / It bust be Sprig that I ab sbellig. / Agaid, the bird is od the wig / And Dature starts her Highlad Flig.

    • Margaret Fishback,
    • "Kerchoo!" in William Cole, ed., Poems for Seasons and Celebrations ()
  • Spring is not gentle or sentimental, for all its pretty pink and white cloak of blossoming boughs. The wet, new green in the woods, intense in the sunlight, is as fierce as a sword-thrust, flowers in the grass are as awful as stars in the sky. Spring is terrible and divine, tearing the earth wide open, tearing the children of earth.

  • Spring is the shortest season.

    • Linda Pastan,
    • "The War Between Desire and Dailiness," PM/AM ()
  • When rough and wild the March winds blow, / Beneath the ice we look, and lo! / We see the brooks begin to flow.

    • Nora Perry,
    • "March Winds," Songs and Ballads ()
  • Spring is shoving up the front windows and resting your elbows on the sill, the sun burning your nose a little.

  • Ye may trace my step o'er the wakening earth, / By the winds which tell of the violet's birth, / By the primrose-stars in the shadowy grass, / By the green leaves, opening as I pass.

    • Felicia Hemans,
    • "The Voice of Spring," The Poetical Works of Felicia Dorothea Hemans ()
  • When spring comes, it is best to believe in something.

  • Spring comes: the flowers learn their coloured shapes.

    • Maria Konopnicka,
    • "A Vision," in Joanna Bankier and Deirdre Lashgari, eds., Women Poets of the World ()
  • The spring is already here with her hands full of flowers.

  • In winter, each flower, each stone, / Each stick, each leaf, / Speaks to me of the old time grief. / But when I walk this way in spring, / They laugh, and I laugh, They sing, and I sing.

    • Mary Elizabeth Mahnkey,
    • in Ellen Gray Massey, A Candle Within Her Soul: Mary Elizabeth Mahnkey and Her Ozarks, 1877-1948 ()
  • Let us remember Spring will come again.

  • 'Is the spring coming?' he said. 'What is it like?' ... 'It is the sun shining on the rain and the rain falling on the sunshine.'