Bette Midler Quotes

When we feel weak, all we have to do is wait a little while. The spring returns and the winter snows melt and fill us with new energy.

Like the seeds dreaming beneath the snow your heart dreams of spring.

A hush is over everything, Silent as women wait for love; The world is waiting for the spring.

All flowers in time bend towards the sun, I know you say there's no one for you, But here is one.

Love is a springtime plant that perfumes everything with its hope, even the ruins to which it clings.

Sweet April showers do spring May flowers.

The beautiful spring came; and when Nature resumes her loveliness, the human soul is apt to revive also.

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.

Only with winter-patience can we bring the deep-desired, long-awaited Spring.

Where I lived - winter and hard earth.I sat in my cold stone roomchoosing tough words, granite, flint,to break the ice. My broken heart -I tried that, but it skimmed,flat, over the frozen lake.She came from a long, long way,but I saw her at last, walking,my daughter, my girl, across the fields,In bare feet, bringing all spring's flowersto her mother's house. I swearthe air softened and warmed as she moved,the blue sky smiling, none too soon,with the small shy mouth of a new moon.

Spring drew on... and a greenness grew over those brown beds, which, freshening daily, suggested the thought that hope traversed them at night and left each morning brighter traces of her steps.

Maybe love is like rain. Sometimes gentle, sometimes torrential, flooding, eroding, joyful, steady, filling the earth, collecting in underground springs. When it rains, when we love, life grows.

Where flowers bloom so does hope.

Our destiny often looks like a fruit-tree in winter. Who would think from its pitiable aspect that those rigid boughs, those rough twigs could next spring again be green, bloom, and even bear fruit? Yet we hope it, we know it.

Each of us is a seed, a silent promise, and it is always Spring.

In the autumn I gathered all my sorrows and buried them in my garden. And when April returned and spring came to wed the earth, there grew in my garden beautiful flowers unlike all other flowers. And my neighbors came to behold them, and they all said to me, "When autumn comes again, at seeding time, will you not give us of the seeds of these flowers that we may have them in our gardens?"

In my own life, as winters turn into spring, I find it not only hard to cope with mud but also hard to credit the small harbingers of larger life to come, hard to hope until the outcome is secure. Spring teaches me to look more carefully for the green stems of possibility; for the intuitive hunch that may turn into a larger insight, for the glance or touch that may thaw a frozen relationship, for the stranger's act of kindness that makes the world seem hospitable again.

When the measured dance of the hours brings back the happy smile of spring, the buried dead is born again in the life-glance of the sun. The germs which perished to the eye within the cold breast of the earth spring up with joy in the bright realm of day.

When snow melts, what does it become?' It becomes water, of course' Wrong! It becomes spring!

In every winter's heart there is a quivering spring, and behind the veil of each night there is a shining dawn.