Seasons Quotes

The nicest thing about the promise of spring is that sooner or later she'll have to keep it.

Mark Beltaire

No one thinks of Winter when the grass is green.

Rudyard Kipling

No Winter lasts forever no Spring skips its turn. April is a promise that May is bound to keep and we know it.

Hal Borland

Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this sun of York.

William Shakespeare

Every April God rewrites the Book of Genesis.

Anonymous

The changing year's progressive plan Proclaims mortality to man.

Horace

Summer is the mother of the poor.

Italian proverb

Take a winter as you find him and he turns out to be a thoroughly honest fellow with no nonsense in him: and tolerating none in you which is a great comfort in the long run.

James Russell Lowell

Summer ends and Autumn comes and he who would have it otherwise would have high tide always and a full moon every night.

Hal Borland

June's too soon July's too late - for summer.

Siberian saying

April Comes like an idiot babbling and strewing flowers.

Edna St. Vincent Millay

Autumn arrives in the early morning but spring at the close of a winter's day.

Elizabeth Bowen

Autumn is the bite of a harvest apple.

Christina Petrowsky

May is a pious fraud of the almanac A ghastly parody of real Spring Shaped out of snow and breathed with eastern wind.

James Russell Lowell

The first day of spring was once the time for taking the young virgins into the fields there in dalliance to set an example in fertility for Nature to follow. Now we just set the clock an hour ahead and change the oil in the crankcase.

E B White

April is the cruellest month breeding Lilacs out of the dead land mixing memory and desire stirring dull roots with Spring rain.

T.S Eliot

Autumn wins you best by this: its mute Appeal to sympathy for its decay.

Robert Browning

Honest Winter snow-clad and with the frosted beard I can welcome not uncordially But that long deferment of the calendar's promise that weeping gloom of March and April that bitter blast outraging the honour of May how often has it robbed me of heart and hope?

George Gissing

Autumn to winter winter into spring. Spring into summer summer into fall - So rolls the changing year and so we change -Motion so swift we know not that we move.

Dinah Mulock Craik

Spring is a virgin Summer a mother Autumn a widow and Winter a stepmother.

Polish proverb

The heat of autumn is different from the heat of summer. One ripens apples, the other turns them to c

Jane Hirshfield

Autumn has come to northeast Montana. The vapor of one’s breath, the clarity of the stars, the smell of wood smoke, the stones underfoot that even a full day of sunlight won’t warm- these all say there will be no more days that can be mistaken for summer.

Larry Watson

Enchantment and fulfillment were on the gold and garnet horizon - autumn's breath, a dormant dream reawakened, a yearning nearly satiated, a tender thank you with a brush of the lips, and a connection as fingers touch and go hand in hand.

Donna Lynn Hope

Autumn is Nature's last party of the year. And dressing for the occasion, forests don their brightest attire, while the creatures follow suit with plush coats of fur. As the birds savor their final flights in the waning embers of light, Nature's children scamper about in search of manna for their winter pantries, pausing long enough to frolic in the heaps of newly fallen le

Debra Welsh

What an abundant harvest has been collected in autumn! The earth has now fulfilled its design for this year, and is going to repose for a short time. Thus nature is continually employed during the greatest part of the year: even in her rest she is active: and in silence prepares a new creation.

Christoph Christian Sturm

All-cheering Plenty, with her flowing horn,Led yellow Autumn, wreath'd with nodding

Robert Burns

Methinks I see the sunset light flooding the river valley, the western hills stretching to the horizon, overhung with trees gorgeous and glowing with the tints of autumn -- a mighty flower garden blossoming under the spell of the enchanter, frost.

John Greenleaf Whittier

The mellow autumn came, and with it cameThe promised party, to enjoy its sweets.The corn is cut, the manor full of game;The pointer ranges, and the sportsman beatsIn russet jacket;—lynx-like is his aim;Full grows his bag, and wonderful his feats.Ah, nutbrown partridges! Ah, brilliant pheasants!And ah, ye poachers!—'Tis no sport for peasants.

George Gordon Byron

It was one of those perfect fall days when the air is cool enough to wake you up but the sun is also kissing your face.

Anita Diamant

Floating along like a leaf after fallI land soft on the crisp ground belowstill tempted to fly, God hold me in place.

N.M. Cherraj

In the fall nature informs us of its artistic side. It again confirms the beauty of the world. Nature is art perfected.

Brent M. Jones

AUTUMNAL Pale amber sunlight falls across The reddening October trees, That hardly sway before a breeze As soft as summer: summer's loss Seems little, dear! on days like these. Let misty autumn be our part! The twilight of the year is sweet: Where shadow and the darkness meet Our love, a twilight of the heart Eludes a little time's deceit. Are we not better and at home In dreamful Autumn, we who deem No harvest joy is worth a dream? A little while and night shall come, A little while, then, let us dream. Beyond the pearled horizons lie Winter and night: awaiting these We garner this poor hour of ease, Until love turn from us and die Beneath the drear November trees.

Ernest Dowson

The leaves fall, the wind blows, and the farm country slowly changes from the summer cottons into its winter wools.

Henry Beston

It was one of those perfect English autumnal days which occur more frequently in memory than in life.

P.D. James

Give me juicy autumnal fruit, ripe and red from the orc

Walt Whitman

At no other time (than autumn) does the earth let itself be inhaled in one smell, the ripe earth; in a smell that is in no way inferior to the smell of the sea, bitter where it borders on taste, and more honeysweet where you feel it touching the first sounds. Containing depth within itself, darkness, something of the grave almost.

Rainer Maria Rilke

With so many trees in the city, you could see the spring coming each day until a night of warm wind would bring it suddenly in one morning. Sometimes the heavy cold rains would beat it back so that it would seem that it would never come and that you were losing a season out of your life. This was the only truly sad time in Paris because it was unnatural. You expected to be sad in the fall. Part of you died each year when the leaves fell from the trees and their branches were bare against the wind and the cold, wintry light. But you knew there would always be the spring, as you knew the river would flow again after it was frozen. When the cold rains kept on and killed the spring, it was as though a young person had died for no reason. In those days, though, the spring always came finally but it was frightening that it had nearly failed.

Ernest Hemingway

The hour of spring was dark at last,sensuous memories of sunlight past,I stood alone in garden bowersand asked the value of my hours.Time was spent or time was tossed,Life was loved and life was lost.I kissed the flesh of tender girls,I heard the songs of vernal birds.I gazed upon the blushing light,aware of day before the night.So let me ask and hear a thought:Did I live the spring I’d sought?It's true in joy, I walked along,took part in dance, and sang the song.and never tried to bind an hourto my borrowed garden bower;nor did I once entreata day to slumber at my feet.Yet days aren't lulled by lyric song,like morning birds they pass along,o'er crests of trees, to none belong;o'er crests of trees of drying dew,their larking flight, my hands, eschewThus I’ll say it once and true...From all that I saw, and everywhere I wandered,I learned that time cannot be spent,It only can be squandered.

Roman Payne

You must take personal responsibility. You cannot change the circumstances, the seasons, or the wind, but you can change yourself. That is something you have charge of.

Jim Rohn

August rain: the best of the summer gone, and the new fall not yet born. The odd uneven time.

Sylvia Plath

The summer ended. Day by day, and taking its time, the summer ended. The noises in the street began to change, diminish, voices became fewer, the music sparse. Daily, blocks and blocks of children were spirited away. Grownups retreated from the streets, into the houses. Adolescents moved from the sidewalk to the stoop to the hallway to the stairs, and rooftops were abandoned. Such trees as there were allowed their leaves to fall - they fell unnoticed - seeming to promise, not without bitterness, to endure another year. At night, from a distance, the parks and playgrounds seemed inhabited by fireflies, and the night came sooner, inched in closer, fell with a greater weight. The sound of the alarm clock conquered the sound of the tambourine, the houses put on their winter faces. The houses stared down a bitter landscape, seeming, not without bitterness, to have resolved to endure another year.

James Baldwin

The dreamy days and sticky nights of summer were already calling, as if anything could happen.

C.J. Carlyon

It is not summer, England doesn't have summer, it has continuous autumn with a fortnight's variation here and there.

Natasha Pulley

A thin grey fog hung over the city, and the streets were very cold; for summer was in England.

Rudyard Kipling

But when fall comes, kicking summer out on its treacherous ass as it always does one day sometime after the midpoint of September, it stays awhile like an old friend that you have missed. It settles in the way an old friend will settle into your favorite chair and take out his pipe and light it and then fill the afternoon with stories of places he has been and things he has done since last he saw you.

Stephen King

Daffodils are yellow trumpets of spring

Richard L. Ratliff

A garden did not need people in order to be alive and natural. The flowers might have died, and the last leaves might be falling, but the space was still redolent with the odors of life. It contained a thousand reassurances that no matter what one person’s strife, the seasons continued their cycle.

Madeline Hunter

Winter was nothing but a season of snow; spring, allergies; and summer...It was the worst. That was swimsuit season.

Teresa Lo

...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

The moon grew plump and pale as a peeled apple, waned into the passing nights, then showed itself again as a thin silver crescent in the twilit western sky. The shed of leaves became a cascade of red and gold and after a time the trees stood skeletal against a sky of weathered tin. The land lay bled of its colors. The nights lengthened, went darker, brightened in their clustered stars. The chilled air smelled of woodsmoke, of distances and passing time. Frost glimmered on the morning fields. Crows called across the pewter afternoons. The first hard freeze cast the countryside in ice and trees split open with sounds like whipcracks. Came a snow flurry one night and then a heavy falling the next day, and that evening the land lay white and still under a high ivory moon.

James Carlos Blake

These marvels were great and comfortable ones, but in the old England there was a greater still. The weather behaved itself.In the spring all the little flowers came out obediently in the meads, and the dew sparkled, and the birds sang; in the summer it was beautifully hot for no less than four months, and, if it did rain just enough for agricultural purposes, they managed to arrange it so that it rained while you were in bed; in the autumn the leaves flamed and rattled before the west winds, tempering their sad adieu with glory; and in the winter, which was confined by statute to two months, the snow lay evenly, three feet thick, but never turned into slush.

T.H. White

Wisconsin doesn't look kindly on the weeks that slip in between the death of cold and the birth of warmth; Persephone may have left her husband, but she isn't home yet, and this is one state that'll be damned before it lets anyone forget it.

Seanan McGuire

There was a filmy veil of soft dull mist obscuring, but not hiding, all objects, giving them a lilac hue, for the sun had not yet fully set; a robin was singing ... The leaves were more gorgeous than ever; the first touch of frost would lay them all low to the ground. Already one or two kept constantly floating down, amber and golden in the low slanting sun-rays.

Elizabeth Gaskell

She told us about the goddess called Persephone, who was forced to spend half a year in the darkness deep underground. Winter happened when she was trapped inside the earth. The days shrank, they became cold and short and dark. Living things hid themselves away. Spring came when she was released and made her slow way up to the world again. The world became brighter and bolder in order to welcome her back. It began to be filled with warmth and light. The animals dared to wake, they dared to have their young. Plants dared to send out buds and shoots. Life dared to come back.

David Almond

In the summer heat the reapers say, “We have seen her dancing with the autumn leaves, and we saw a drift of snow in her hair.

Kahlil Gibran

The summer in youcalms the winter in me.

Saiber

In the spring and summer I watched my plants flower, but it was, perhaps, in winter that I loved them best, when their skeletons were exposed. Then I felt they had more to say to me, were not simply dressing themselves for the crowds. Stripped of their leaves, their identities showed forth stark, essential.

Pamela Erens

I kill the living to make way for the dead.But we had hot chocolate, she and I. We tried to make our friendship last as long as we could.Then I was forced to let her go. I held her when she returned to the earth.

R.A. Parry

Thus unto winter’s chill embrace I turnWho once the summer’s sun did blithely bide ‘Neath solemn visage cold and fair and sternIn her cool breast my hot heart to confide.Denied the warmth and wit of summer’s sun Or springtime’s strength, and bright, melodious song I dreamed not to complete what I’d begun Nor dared to haste the laggard hours along.But now with spring and summer sun at rest Laid bare before bright winter’s pale charms I would for love of her lay down my quest And take my ease in Winter-Lady’s arms.Before her beauty fair ‘neath snow-swept sky All other seasons blanch and fade, and die.- The Lost Knight's Lament, "Winter's Lady" (Forthcoming)

D. Alexander Neill

Cold is cold.

Lailah Gifty Akita

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Seasons Quotes

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