Margaret Wise Brown Quotes

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

Don't you like when the winter's gone, And all of a sudden it starts gettin' warm? The trees and the grass start lookin' fresh, And the sun and sky be lookin' their best.

I do hope that our spring will be starting shortly and we will all be able to enjoy some sunshine again.

Sweet April showers do spring May flowers.

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

The first sparrow of spring! The year beginning with younger hope than ever!... What at such a time are histories, chronologies, traditions, and all written revelations? The brooks sing carols and glees to the spring.

April comes like an idiot, babbling and strewing flowers.

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.

So then the year is repeating its old story again. We are come once more, thank God! to its most charming chapter. The violets and the Mayflowers are as its inscriptions or vignettes. It always makes a pleasant impression on us, when we open again at these pages of the book of life.

Almond blossom, sent to teach us That the spring days soon will reach us.

Spring: trees flying up to their birds

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.

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.

At the end of the season of sorrows comes the time of rejoicing. Spring, like a well-oiled clock, noiselessly indicates this time.

Spring is the time of plans and projects.

All things seem possible in May.

The first wild-flower of the year is like land after sea.

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.

The spring came suddenly, bursting upon the world as a child bursts into a room, with a laugh and a shout and hands full of flowers.

Hark! the hours are softly calling Bidding Spring arise To listen to the rain-drops falling From the cloudy skies To listen to Earth’s weary voices Louder every day Bidding her no longer linger On her charm’d way But hasten to her task of beauty Scarcely yet begun.