Spring Quotes

“...I hear the sounds of melting snow outside my window every night and with the first faint scent of spring, I remember life exists...”
― John Geddes, A Familiar Rain

“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.”
― Knut Hamsun, Dreamers

“It was a night of early spring,
The winter-sleep was scarcely broken;
Around us shadows and the wind
Listened for what was never spoken.

Though half a score of years are gone,
Spring comes as sharply now as then—
But if we had it all to do
It would be done the same again.

It was a spring that never came;
But we have lived enough to know
That what we never have, remains;
It is the things we have that go.”
― Sara Teasdale

“And a bird overhead sang Follow,
And a bird to the right sang Here;
And the arch of the leaves was hollow,
And the meaning of May was clear.”
― Algernon Charles Swinburne

“She walks in 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.”
― Vita Sackville-West, The Land

“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!”
― Jeffrey R. Anderson, The Nature of Things - Navigating Everyday Life with Grace

“Then sometime there in late March, after the Indian violets had come, we would be gathering on the mountain and the wind, raw and mean, would change for just a second. It would touch your face as soft as a feather. It had an earth smell. You knew springtime was on the way.

The next day, or the next (you would commence to hold your face out for the feel), the soft touch would come again. It would last a little longer and be sweeter and smell stronger.”
― Forrest Carter, The Education of Little Tree

“The spring came suddenly; the rains stopped, the days grew noticeably longer, and the afternoon light felt powdery, as if it might blow away.”
― Jane Mendelsohn, I Was Amelia Earhart

“I likened her to the slender PSYCHÉ and judged that the perfection of her face ennobled everything unclean around her: The dusty hems of her bunched-up skirt, the worn straps of her nightshirt; the blackened soles of her bare feet [...] All this and the pungent air! Ô this night, sweet pungent night! "HÉBÉ" may come but a season. But this girl's season would know a hot spring
and an Indian summer.”
― Roman Payne

“The most beautiful springs are those that come after the most horrible winters!”
― Mehmet Murat ildan

“Every intoxicating delight of early spring was in the air. The breeze that fanned her cheek was laden with subtle perfume and the crisp, fresh odor of unfolding leaves.”
― Gene Stratton-Porter, The Song of the Cardinal

“I am happy the leaves are growing large so quickly. Soon they will hide the neighbor and her screaming child.”
― Lydia Davis, Samuel Johnson Is Indignant

“He returned her love. He lusted after her sweet young body. He wanted her the way he wanted to breathe the spring air.
He had never loved anyone before. He had not known even what this feeling for his tiny slave was.
Now in the crisp, clear spring sunlight, he knew.”
― Andrew M. Greeley, The Magic Cup

“Ephemerals: That's what Hub called them; flowers that bloomed and died in a matter of weeks, before the trees leafed out and shaded them. She liked the way the word sounded in her head. I am an ephemeral. It made her feel like something passing and precious.”
― Pamela Todd, The Blind Faith Hotel

“Springtime in Massachusetts is depressing for those who embrace a progressive view of history and experience. It does not gradually develop as spring is supposed to. Instead, the crocuses bloom and the grass grows, but the foliage is independent from the weather, which gets colder and colder and sadder and sadder until June when one day it becomes brutishly hot without warning...It was fitting, then, that the first people who chose to settle there were mentally suspect.”
― Rebecca Harrington, Penelope

“How mighty you are as death comes upon you and your color fades. Yet from life and lush to bold array, screaming into the night.”
― Kellie Elmore, Magic in the Backyard

“Spring comes to the Australian Alps like an invisible spirit. There is not the tremendous surge of upthrust life that there is in the lowland valleys, and no wild flowers bloom in the snow mountains till the early summer, but there is an immense stirring of excitement. A bright red and blue lowrie flits through the trees; snow thaws, and the streams become full of foaming water; the grey, flattened grass grows upwards again and becomes greener; wild horses start to lose their winter coats and find new energy; wombats sit, round and fat, blinking in the evening sunshine; at night there is the cry of a dingo to its mate.”
― Elyne Mitchell

“أتَاكَ الرّبيعُ الطّلقُ يَختالُ ضَاحِكاً منَ الحُسنِ حتّى كادَ أنْ يَتَكَلّمَا
وَقَد نَبّهَ النّوْرُوزُ في غَلَسِ الدّجَى أوائِلَ وَرْدٍ كُنّ بالأمْسِ نُوَّمَا”
― البحتري

“Winter was nothing but a season of snow; spring, allergies; and summer...It was the worst. That was swimsuit season.”
― Teresa Lo, Realities: a Collection of Short Stories

“In my own shire, if I was sad
Homely comforters I had:
The earth, because my heart was sore,
Sorrowed for the son she bore;
And standing hills, long to remain,
Shared their short-lived comrade's pain.
And bound for the same bourn as I,
On every road I wandered by,
Trod beside me, close and dear,
The beautiful and death-struck year:
Whether in the woodland brown
I heard the beechnut rustle down,
And saw the purple crocus pale
Flower about the autumn dale;
Or littering far the fields of May
Lady-smocks a-bleaching lay,
And like a skylit water stood
The bluebells in the azured wood.

Yonder, lightening other loads,
The season range the country roads,
But here in London streets I ken
No such helpmates, only men;
And these are not in plight to bear,
If they would, another's care.
They have enough as 'tis: I see
In many an eye that measures me
The mortal sickness of a mind
Too unhappy to be kind.
Undone with misery, all they can
Is to hate their fellow man;
And till they drop they needs must still
Look at you and wish you ill.”
― A.E. Housman, A Shropshire Lad

“All the while she wondered if any strange good thing might come of her being in her ancestral land; and some spirit within her rose automatically as the sap in the twigs. It was unexpected youth, surging up anew after its temporary check, and bringing with it hope, and the invincible instinct towards self-delight.”
― Thomas Hardy, Tess of the D’Urbervilles

“It’s hard to walk briskly at this time of year; the accelerating pace of unfolding spring slows my own. I repeatedly stop- to watch what’s moving. Soon the torrent of migrants will completely overwhelm my ability to keep up with all the changes. But it’s easy to revel in the exuberance and the sense of rebirth, renewal.”
― Carl Safina, The View from Lazy Point: A Natural Year in an Unnatural World

“Do not wish an everlasting spring! Without tasting the winter, you cannot get pleasure out of the spring!”
― Mehmet Murat ildan

“When the winter comes, be very happy; because the spring comes only if the winter comes!”
― Mehmet Murat ildan

“It was spring when it happened and the schoolroom windows were open all day long, and every afternoon after Billy left we had milk from little waxy cartons and Mrs. Jansma would read us chapters from a wonderful book about some children in England that had a bed that took them places at night.”
― Ellen Gilchrist, Victory Over Japan: A Book of Stories

“And you say Paris is gay, but it has its down times. You say go in the spring and not the summer, because watching the autumn creep through the Rive Gauche preparing for winter is hard.”
― Darnell Lamont Walker, Book of She

“We're looking at the coming of spring like we look at the coming of babies we never considered aborting; Hopeful.”
― Darnell Lamont Walker

“kevään sanansaattaja satakieli
kaipaus sen äänessä”
― Sapfo, Iltatähti, häälaulu

“Spring is the ultimate genius of the existence and the utter ladder of the lovers ascending to the infinity.”
― Mehmet Murat ildan

“The very sight of a daffodil still makes me shiver, because spring in the north of England is always so bitter.”
― Bea Davenport, In Too Deep