Spring Quotes - Page 2

Spring is a time to make up a big bouquet of flowers for someone you love, or are trying to love, or are in love with.

The deep roots never doubt spring will come.

Winter is already a lost shape, forgotten
in the ground. Instead, here is Spring

with all the grace of a woman
smoothing out her apron.

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...

Without habit, the beauty of the world would overwhelm us. We’d pass out every time we saw - actually saw - a flower. Imagine if we only got to see a cumulonimbus cloud or Cassiopeia or a snowfall once a century: there’d be pandemonium in the streets. People would lie by the thousands in the fields on their backs.

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

Because the birdsong might be pretty,
But it's not for you they sing,
And if you think my winter is too cold,
You don't deserve my spring.

Following dark winter's strife, a warm air rises, teemed with life. Birth, rebirth, as the waiting die. Old love, new love sprouts wings to fly.

A breeze blew softly, slightly rippling the water as it carried the heady scents of late Carolina springtime through the air. Honeysuckle. Jasmine. Ripe, pungent river mud. Ah, the world felt right.

Here I find the true nature of the tree - not in the bulk of its shape but in the way its form alters my vision of the world.

My breathe would catch at the sight of violets-so common in the woods at home, so surprising in the mountains. The violet's message was "Keep up your courage, stay true to what you believe in." p264

While they were speaking of - in their opinion - great things, around about them only little things - also in their opinion - were happening: everywhere the bushes were turning green, the brooding earth was germinating and beginning to play with her first little Spring creatures, as one might with jewels.

When spring knocks at your door, regardless of the time of year or season of our lives, run, do not walk to that door, throw it open with wild abandon, and say, "Yes! Yes, come in! Do me, and do me big!

In a world where thrushes sing and willow trees are golden in the spring, boredom should have been included among the seven deadly sins.

They say sweethearts and squabbles are like flowers and rain. Takes both to make it springtime.

The poet Swinburne said that spring begins 'blossom by blossom.

Something in the air this morning made me feel like flying. . . "

Spring Flight

But now it was spring again, and spring was almost unbearable for sensitive hearts. It drove creation to its utmost limits, it wafted its spice-laden breath even into the nostrils of the innocent.

Creativity is not so much a boundless well, but an all-you-can-eat buffet of elements for your creative endeavor.

Eventually you've eaten your fill, and it's time to digest and then make something.

But at some point, it will be time to return to the restaurant.

At the best of times, spring hurts depressives.