Adelaide Anne Procter Quotes

When the leaves of the strongest tree fall, spring is here.

She turned to the sunlight And shook her yellow head, And whispered to her neighbor: "Winter is dead.

Poor, dear, silly Spring, preparing her annual surprise!

Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower.

I love better to count time from spring to spring; it seems to me far more cheerful to reckon the year by blossoms than by blight.

The madness of spring is so enticing. I love it when things are opening up and emerging from the ground. I also love the middle of summer when fruit is bursting forth, but I even love the garden in the winter when everything is resting.

Wag the world how it will, Leaves must be green in Spring.

The hopeless hope is one of the early harbingers of spring, bespeaking an innocent belief that the world might right its wrongs and reverse its curses simply because the trees are coming into leaf.

Never yet was a springtime, when the buds forgot to bloom.

They were pleasant spring days, in which the winter of man's discontent was thawing as well as the earth, and the life that had lain torpid began to stretch itself.

While we only look at Nature it is fair to say that Autumn is the end of the year; but it is still more true that Autumn is the beginning of the year.... Autumn is the time when in fact the leaves bud. Leaves wither because winter begins; but they also wither because spring is already beginning, because new buds are being made, as tiny as percussion caps out of which the spring will crack.... It is only an optical illusion that my flowers die in autumn; for in reality they are born.

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.

Every spring is the only spring, a perpetual astonishment.

Spring is a true reconstructionist.

Sweet April showers do spring May flowers.

I love feeling the crispness of fall and the sensuality of spring.

Spring beckons! All things to the call respond; the trees are leaving and cashiers abscond.

One swallow does not make a summer, but one skein of geese, cleaving the murk of March thaw, is the Spring.

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

Early spring is the time for vigorous change, a preparation for the heat-driven oppression that is to come.

Like the generations of leaves, the lives of mortal men. Now the wind scatters the old leaves across the earth, now the living timber bursts with the new buds and spring comes round again. And so with men: as one generation comes to life, another dies away.