Lucy Maud Montgomery Quotes

There's so much spring in the air- there's so much lazy sweetness in your heart.

Spring, / you are a pinking shears: you cut / fresh edges on the world.

There was only - spring itself, the throb of it, the light restlessness, the vital essence of it everywhere; in the sky, in the swift clouds, in the pale sunshine, and in the warm high wind - rising suddenly, sinking suddenly, impulsive ... If I had been tossed down blindfold on that red prairie, I should have known that it was spring.

Every season is a season of its own.

The streams, rejoiced that winter's work is done, Talk of to-morrow's cowslips as they run.

In our hearts those of us who know anything worth knowing know that in March a new year begins, and if we plan any new leaves, it will be when the rest of Nature is planning them too.

The first sparrow of spring! The year beginning with younger hope than ever!

Meanwhile spring arrived. My old dejection passed away and gave place to the unrest which spring brings with it, full of dreams and vague hopes and desires.

Oh, Spring! I want to go out and feel you and get inspiration. My old things seem dead. I want fresh contacts, more vital searching.

Spring is a true reconstructionist.

The cool wind blew in my face and all at once I felt as if I had shed dullness from myself. Before me lay a long gray line with a black mark down the center. The birds were singing. It was spring.

He was as fresh as is the month of May.

Spring is nature's way of saying, 'Let's party!'

When spring came, even the false spring, there were no problems except where to be happiest.

April, the angel of the months, the young love of the year.

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

I think March and fall are natural seasons for me to feel invigorated.

Fresh spring! / The world is only Nine days old - / These fields and mountains!

Spring time is the land awakening.

I think, if I've learned anything over the years, it is that every single season is a unique one.

Winter isn't forever. Winter is always followed by spring. And it's how to take advantage of whatever season you're in.

And still the mad magnificent herald Spring assembles beauty from forgetfulness with the wild trump of April:witchery of sound and odour drives the wingless thing man forth in the bright air.

For, as when the red-cheeked, dancing girls, April and May, trip home to the wintry, misanthropic woods; even the barest, ruggedest, most thunder-cloven old oak will at least send forth some few green sprouts, to welcome such glad-hearted visitants . . .