Quotes on Springtime

April is the cruelest month, T.S. Eliot wrote, by which I think he meant (among other things) that springtime makes people crazy. We expect too much, the world burgeons with promises it can't keep, all passion is really a setup, and we're doomed to get our hearts broken yet again. I agree, and would further add: Who cares? Every spring I go out there anyway, around the bend, unconditionally. ... Come the end of the dark days, I am more than joyful. I'm nuts.

Earth, my dearest, oh believe me, you no longer need your springtimes to win me over...Unspeakably, I have belonged to you, from the flush.

In April, we cannot see sunflowers in France, so we might say the sunflowers do not exist. But the local farmers have already planted thousands of seeds, and when they look at the bare hills, they may be able to see the sunflowers already. The sunflowers are there. They lack only the conditions of sun, heat, rain and July. Just because we cannot see them does not mean that they do not exist.

Blackberry winter, the time when the hoarforst lies on the blackberry blossoms; without this frost the berries will not set. It is the forerunner of a rich harvest.

'Tis spring; come out to ramble_x000D_ _x000D_ The hilly brakes around,_x000D_ _x000D_ For under thorn and bramble_x000D_ _x000D_ About the hollow ground_x000D_ _x000D_ The primroses are found._x000D_ _x000D_ And there's the windflower chilly_x000D_ _x000D_ With all the winds at play,_x000D_ _x000D_ And there's the Lenten lily_x000D_ _x000D_ That has not long to stay_x000D_ _x000D_ And dies on Easter day.

A soul that is ruined in the bud will frequently return to the springtime of its beginning and its promise-filled childhood, as though it could discover new hopes there and retie the broken threads of life. The shoots grow rapidly and eagerly, but it is only a sham life that will never be a genuine tree.

What a strange thing! to be alive beneath cherry blossoms.

In the Spring, I have counted 136 different kinds of weather inside of 24 hours.

Springtime is at hand. When will you ever bloom, if not here and now?

Unless a tree has borne blossoms in spring, you will vainly look for fruit on it in autumn.

To be interested in the changing seasons is a happier state of mind than to be hopelessly in love with spring.

Choose action, not rest. Choose the good in life in all things, and choose the opportunity as well as the chance to work when springtime smiles on your face.

Spring has returned. The Earth is like a child that knows poems.

I return to the newborn world, and the soft-soil fields, What their first birthing lifted to the shores Of light, and trusted to the wayward winds. First the Earth gave the shimmer of greenery And grasses to deck the hills; then over the meadows The flowering fields are bright with the color of springtime, And for all the trees that shoot into the air.

Indoors or out, no one relaxes _x000D_ In March, that month of wind and taxes, _x000D_ The wind will presently disappear, _x000D_ The taxes last us all the year.

God is in his Heaven, all's right with the world.

From some home a jade flute sends dark notes drifting,_x000D_ _x000D_ Scattering on the spring wind that fills Lo-yang._x000D_ _x000D_ Tonight, if we should hear the willow-breaking song,_x000D_ _x000D_ Who could help but long for the gardens of home?

Love cannot accept what it is. Everywhere on earth it cries out against kindness, compassion, intelligence, everything that leads to compromise. Love demands the impossible, the absolute, the sky on fire, inexhaustible springtime, life after death, and death itself transfigured into eternal life.

Nothing is so beautiful as spring- When weeds in wheels, shoot long and lovely and lush.

If all flowers wanted to be roses, nature would lose her springtime beauty and the fields would no longer be decked out with little wildflowers.

Daffodils,_x000D_ _x000D_ That come before the swallow dares, and take_x000D_ _x000D_ The winds of March with beauty.