Spring Quotes - Page 93

All green and fair the summer lies, Just budded from the bud of spring, With tender blue of wistful skies, And winds that softly sing.

A spring of love gush'd from my heart, And I bless'd them unaware.

The fountain of contentment must spring up in the mind.

Spring is the season of gaiety, and winter of terror; in spring the heart of tranquility dances to the melody of the groves, and the eye of benevolence sparkles at the sight of happiness and plenty: in winter, compassion melts at universal calamity, and the tear of softness starts at the wailing of hunger and the cries of the creation in distress

I still smile it's not worth the trouble any more for a long time now it's not been worth the trouble the tongue spring goes into the mud I stay like this not thirsty any more the tongue goes back into the mouth it closes it has to make a straight line now it's done I've made the image.

In my day, if a guy came to spring training 20 pounds heavier than what he left, he was considered out of shape and was probably in trouble.

I never forgot the four years I spent with the Phillies, my September call-ups and my big league Spring Trainings. I never forgot that.

As winter weather settles in around the country, millions of American families are facing skyrocketing home heating prices with even greater impact if cold temperatures persist into the spring.

I can tell any liberal why he or she thinks what they think. I can predict to them what their reaction to any event or person is going to be, because I know them, because I have taken the time because I'm curious to study it. I know what liberalism is. I know from where it springs and derives, and I know the vast majority of people who are liberals, what they are going to do, say, and think about.

Every fragile beauty, every perfect forgotten sentence, you grieve their going away, but that is not how it is. Where they come from never goes dry. It is an always flowing spring.

I like to express certain things that happen in my life, the joy of spring, the birds singing and young babies coming into the world. You know, the whole thing as well as the part I'm not happy with, the sad part.

I feel as good now as I have any other spring training.

The last start of spring training, my (cut fastball) was okay. It just wasn't what I wanted it to be. I tried to work on making it cut more and do more. I think that set (the forearm) off ... trying to make it move a lot, cut a lot. I'm just going to back off and trust it a little bit more and not try and push that.

No other woman had that air of spring in January, that ever-bubbling fount of love and hope.

Thanksgiving is every day because in this physical body you can spring into eternal paradise.

Dig deeply into the spring of love and partake of it. The supply is infinite.

When you think about great teams, The Beatles and the Pythons immediately spring to mind. The Pythons were as much a part of their time as The Beatles.

When you spring to an idea, and decide it is truth, without evidence, you blind yourself to other possibilities.

When one has faith that the spring thaw will arrive, the winter winds seem to lose some of their punch.

In America they have to know just what you are-- novelist, poet, playwright... Well, I've been all of them... I think poems and novels and stories spring from the same seed. It's not like, say, playing polo and knitting.

Say, care-worn man, Whom Duty chains within the city walls, Amid the toiling crowd, how grateful plays The fresh wind o’er thy sickly brow, when free To tread the springy turf,— to hear the trees Communing with the gales,—to catch the voice Of waters, gushing from their rocky womb, And singing as they wander... Spring-hours will come again, and feelings rise With dewy freshness o’er thy wither’d heart.

Welcome, maids of honor, You doe bring In the spring, And wait upon her.

Feed him ye must, whose food fills you. And that this pleasure is like raine, Not sent ye for to drowne your paine, But for to make it spring againe.

Talent has the four seasons: spring, that is to say, the sowing of the seeds; summer, growth; autumn, the harvest; winter, intellectual death. But there is now and then a genius who has no winter, and, no matter how many years he may live, on the blossom of his thought no snow falls. Genius has the climate of perpetual growth.

In spring more mortal singers than belong To any one place cover us with song. Thrush, bluebird, blackbird, sparrow, and robin throng.