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Quotes by Spring

If your purse no longer bulges by Edgar Guest

If your purse no longer bulges

Edgar Guest
lonely summer spring

Youth is the spring-time of life. It is the time to acquire information, so that we may show it off in after years and paralyze people with what we know.

Edgar Wilson Nye
spring people years

Spring comes with joyous laugh, and song, and sunshine, and the burnt sacrifice of the over-ripe boot and the hoary overshoe. The cowboy and the new milch cow carol their roundelay. So does the veteran hen. The common egg of commerce begins to come forth into the market at a price where it can be secured with a step-ladder, and all nature seems tickled.

Edgar Wilson Nye
sunshine spring song

The great sins and fires break out of me like the terrible leaves from the bough in the violent spring. I am a walking fire, I am all leaves.

Edith Sitwell
passion fire spring

The sole purpose is to provide infinite springs, at which the soul may allay the eternal thirst TO KNOW which is forever unquenchable within it, since to quench it, would be to extinguish the soul's self.

Edgar Allan Poe
self forever spring
O fresh-lit dawn! immortal life! by Edmund Clarence Stedman

O fresh-lit dawn! immortal life!

Edmund Clarence Stedman
dawn spring sweet

Whither away, Bluebird, Whither away? The blast is chill, yet in the upper sky Thou still canst find the color of thy wing, The hue of May. Warbler, why speed, thy southern flight? ah, why, Thou, too, whose song first told us of the Spring? Whither away?

Edmund Clarence Stedman
sky spring song

Our hearts seemed safe in our breasts and sang to the Light The marrow in the bone We dreamed was safe. . . the blood in the veins, the sap in the tree Were springs of Deity.

Edith Sitwell
light heart spring

In a way Winter is the real Spring - the time when the inner things happen, the resurgence of nature.

Edna O'Brien
real winter spring
Spring ... made fair false promises which summer was called upon... by Edna Ferber

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

Edna Ferber
summer spring promise
Fresh spring the herald of love's mighty king. by Edmund Spenser

Fresh spring the herald of love's mighty king.

Edmund Spenser
kings spring love
After her came jolly June, arrayed by Edmund Spenser

After her came jolly June, arrayed

Edmund Spenser
june player spring

There is continual spring, and harvest there Continual, both meeting at one time: For both the boughs do laughing blossoms bear, And with fresh colours deck the wanton prime, And eke attonce the heavy trees they climb, Which seem to labour under their fruits load: The whiles the joyous birds make their pastime Amongst the shady leaves, their sweet above, And their true loves without suspicion tell abroad.

Edmund Spenser
spring time sweet

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.

Edouard Manet
broken spring people

When you fall in love, it is spring no matter when. Leaves falling make no difference, they are from another season.

Edna O'Brien
falling-in-love differences spring
April comes like an idiot, babbling and strewing flowers. by Edna St. Vincent Millay

April comes like an idiot, babbling and strewing flowers.

Edna St. Vincent Millay
april flower spring
All sorts of flowers the which on earth do spring by Edmund Spenser

All sorts of flowers the which on earth do spring

Edmund Spenser
flower earth spring

One of the greatest virtues of gardening is this perpetual renewal of youth and spring, of promise of flower and fruit that can always be read in the open book of the garden, by those with an eye to see, and a mind to understand.

Edward Augustus Bowles
flower spring book

The early mist had vanished and the fields lay like a silver shield under the sun. It was one of the days when the glitter of winter shines through a pale haze of spring.

Edith Wharton
shining winter spring

Spring TO what purpose, April, do you return again? Beauty is not enough. You can no longer quiet me with the redness Of little leaves opening stickily. I know what I know. The sun is hot on my neck as I observe The spikes of the crocus. The smell of the earth is good. It is apparent that there is no death. But what does that signify? Not only under ground are the brains of men Eaten by maggots. Life in itself Is nothing, An empty cup, a flight of uncarpeted stairs. It is not enough that yearly, down this hill, April Comes like an idiot, babbling and strewing flowers.

Edna St. Vincent Millay
flower spring men
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