Science has never drummed up quite as effective a tranquilizing agent as a sunny spring day.
Every tear is answered by a blossom, Every sigh with songs and laughter blent, April-blooms upon the breezes toss them. April knows her own, and is content.
Autumn arrives in early morning, but spring at the close of a winter day.
The first of April is the day we remember what we are the other 364 days of the year.
I want to do to you what spring does with the cherry trees.
Sweet April-time - O cruel April-time! Year after year returning, with a brow Of promise, and red lips with longing paled, And backward-hidden hands that clutch the joys Of vanished springs, like flowers.
Every April God rewrites the book of Genesis.
Spring, the sweet Spring, is the year's pleasant king
All things seem possible in May.
Oh, to be in England now that April's there.
April comes like an idiot, babbling and strewing flowers.
The sun was warm but the wind was chill. You know how it is with an April day. When the sun is out and the wind is still, You're one month on in the middle of May. But if you so much as dare to speak, a cloud come over the sunlit arch, And wind comes off a frozen peak, And you're two months back in the middle of March.
I sing of brooks, of blossoms, birds, and bowers: Of April, May, or June, and July flowers. I sing of Maypoles, Hock-carts, wassails, wakes, Of bridegrooms, brides, and of the bridal cakes.
Spring passes and one remembers one's innocence.
In June as many as a dozen species may burst their buds on a single day. No man can heed all of these anniversaries; no man can ignore all of them.
The world's favorite season is the spring. All things seem possible in May.
Nothing is so beautiful as spring - when weeds, in wheels, shoot long and lovely and lush; Thrush's eggs look little low heavens, and thrush through the echoing timber does so rinse and wring the ear, it strikes like lightning to hear him sing.
Sweet spring, full of sweet days and roses, a box where sweets compacted lie.
Loveliest of trees, the cherry now Is hung with bloom along the bough.
Spring is God's way of saying, 'One more time!'
It is only the farmer who faithfully plants seeds in the Spring, who reaps a harvest in the Autumn.
I stuck my head out the window this morning and spring kissed me bang in the face.
There is no season such delight can bring, as summer, autumn, winter and the spring.
The month of May was come, when every lusty heart beginneth to blossom, and to bring forth fruit.
April, April Laugh thy girlish laughter; Then, the moment after, Weep thy girlish tears.
Follow AzQuotes on Facebook, Twitter and Google+. Every day we present the best quotes! Improve yourself, find your inspiration, share with friends
or simply: