Natsuki Takaya Quotes

Spring is a true reconstructionist.

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

The spring is already here with her hands full of flowers.

Oh, Spring is surely coming, Her couriers fill the air; Each morn are new arrivals, Each night her ways prepare; I scent her fragrant garments, Her foot is on the stair.

You’re my change of skin / my summer-winter-fall / I spring to follow you / this loss is beautiful.

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.

It seemed to happen in springs, the revealing of things.

Statistics vary, but in less than seven years there won't be a single cell left in any of our bodies that's the same as it is today. This means that any human being who 'wants' to change is like a mountain river wanting to reach the valley floor. It's a done deal; that's what mountain rivers do, and 'changing' should be our first nature.

Anytime new insight replaces an old assumption or a fossilized perception is the spring. New understandings sprout, new tolerances appear, and new curiosity draws you to previously dark places. Just as the sun shines earlier and longer in the spring, changes that seemed impossible appear to be possible with each new insight into your own health.

Each child is an adventure into a better life - an opportunity to change the old pattern and make it new.

You'll drift apart, it's true, but you'll be out in the open, part of everything alive again.

I know there will be spring, as surely as the birds know it when they see above the snow two tiny, quivering green leaves. Spring cannot fail us.

Don't hold together what must fall apart. The familiar life crumbles so the new life can begin.

Death is the dropping of the flower, that the fruit may swell.

With rushing winds and gloomy skies The dark and stubborn Winter dies: Far-off, unseen, Spring faintly cries, Bidding her earliest child arise; March!

The snow has at last melted, the fields regain their herbage, and the trees their leaves.

In April the sweet showers fall And pierce the drought of March to the root, and all The veins are bathed in liquor of such power As brings about the engendering of the flower.

When we’ve ceased hearing or changing, we need a new environment.