Springtime Quotes

“Everything is made new in the spring. Springs themselves are always so new, too. No spring is ever just like any other spring. It always has something of its own to be its peculiar sweetness.”
― L.M. Montgomery, Anne of the Island

“Spring comes into Massachusetts with her famous flame. God’s breath warming the winter out of things”
― Sebastian Barry, Days Without End

“Lavender lilies all dotted with spots.
Sun-yellow daffodils clustered in pots.
Blue morning-glories climb trellises high.
Powder-white asters like stars in the sky.
Thick, pink peonies unfold in the sun.
Winter adieu now that spring has begun.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, Being Bold: Quotes, Poetry, & Motivations for Every Day of the Year

“Every moment the patches of green grew bigger and the patches of snow grew smaller. Every moment more and more of the trees shook off their robes of snow. Soon, wherever you looked, instead of white shapes you saw the dark green of firs or the black prickly branches of bare oaks and beeches and elms. Then the mist turned from white to gold and presently cleared away altogether. Shafts of delicious sunlight struck down on to the forest floor and overhead you could see a blue sky between the tree tops.
Soon there were more wonderful things happening. Coming suddenly round a corner into a glade of silver birch trees Edmund saw the ground covered in all directions with little yellow flowers- celandines. The noise of water grew louder. Presently they actually crossed a stream. Beyond it they found snowdrops growing.”
― C.S. Lewis, The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe

“Only five minutes later he noticed a dozen crocuses growing round the foot of an old tree- gold and purple and white. Then came a sound even more delicious than the sound of water. Close beside the path they were following, a bird suddenly chirped from the branch of a tree. It was answered by the chuckle of another bird a little further off. And then, as if that had been a signal, there was chattering and chirruping in every direction, and then a moment of full song, and within five minutes the whole wood was ringing with birds' music, and wherever Edmund's eyes turned he saw birds alighting on branches, or sailing overhead or chasing one another or having their little quarrels or tidying up their feathers with their beaks.
"Faster! Faster!" said the Witch.
There was no trace of the fog now. The sky became bluer and bluer, and now there were white clouds hurrying across it from time to time. In the wide glades there were primroses. A light breeze sprang up which scattered drops of moisture from the swaying branches and carried cool, delicious scents against the faces of the travelers. The trees began to come fully alive. The larches and birches were covered with green, the laburnums with gold. Soon the beech trees had put forth their delicate, transparent leaves. As the travelers walked under them the light also became green. A bee buzzed crossed their path.”
― C.S. Lewis, The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe

“It was an overcast day, but the cloudy weather did not detract from the signs of spring that were evident all around them. It was the second week in March, and the official start of the season was just a couple of weeks away. The magnolia trees had already bloomed, and tulips, daffodils, and wildflowers were shooting up all around the convent's gardens.”
― Rosanna Chiofalo, Rosalia's Bittersweet Pastry Shop

“Like any great and good country, Japan has a culture of gathering- weddings, holidays, seasonal celebrations- with food at the core. In the fall, harvest celebrations mark the changing of the guard with roasted chestnuts, sweet potatoes, and skewers of grilled gingko nuts. As the cherry blossoms bloom, festive picnics called hanami usher in the spring with elaborate spreads of miso salmon, mountain vegetables, colorful bento, and fresh mochi turned pink with sakura petals.”
― Matt Goulding, Rice, Noodle, Fish: Deep Travels Through Japan's Food Culture

“Spring is the best life coach: It gives you all the energy you want, all the positive thoughts you wish and all the boldness you need!”
― Mehmet Murat ildan

“If winter was not exist, the spring would not be so pleasant”
― Davan Yahya Khalil

“There’s a word in Japanese for being sad in the springtime – a whole word for just being sad – about how pretty the flowers are and how soon they’re going to die.”
― Sarah Ruhl, Melancholy Play

“Spring has come with little prelude, like turning a rocky corner into a valley, and gardens and borders have blossomed suddenly lush with daffodils, irises, tulips. Even the derelict houses of Les Marauds are touched with color, but here the ordered gardens have run to rampant eccentricity; a flowering elder growing from the balcony of a house overlooking the water, a roof carpeted with dandelions, violets poking out of a crumbling facade. Once-cultivated plants have reverted to their wild state, small leggy geraniums thrusting between hemlock-umbels, self-seeded poppies scattered at random and bastardized from their original red to orange to palest mauve. A few days' sunshine is enough to coax them from sleep; after the rain they stretch and raise their heads toward the light. Pull out a handful of these supposed weeds, and there are sages and irises, pinks and lavenders, under the docks and ragwort.”
― Joanne Harris, Chocolat

“I sit by the window— the spring breeze fills my room with the smell of orange blossoms.”
― Meeta Ahluwalia

“Frühling ist, wenn du Sonne in dein Herz lässt.”
― Nina Hrusa

“The first World War had finally come to a close and it all seemed like springtime. I've learned since that it is in those moments, when one is lulled into hopefulness, that the sword drops onto one's head.”
― Chantel Acevedo, The Distant Marvels

“There’s a word in Japanese for being sad in the springtime — a whole word for just being sad — about how pretty the flowers are and how soon they’re going to die.”
― — Sarah Ruhl, Melancholy Play

“She gazed out at the seductive vista. The countryside was dressed in its prettiest May garb- everything budding or blooming or bursting out in the exuberance of late spring. For Laura, the landscape at thirteen hundred feet up a Welsh mountain was the perfect mix of reassuringly tamed and excitingly wild. In front of the house were lush, high meadows filled with sheep, the lambs plump from their mother's grass-rich milk. Their creamy little shapes bright and clean against the background of pea green. A stream tumbled down the hillside, disappearing into the dense oak woods at the far end of the fields, the ocher trunks fuzzy with moss. On either side of the narrow valley, the land rose steeply to meet the open mountain on the other side of the fence. Here young bracken was springing up sharp and tough to claim the hills for another season. Beyond, in the distance, more mountains rose and fell as far as the eye could see. Laura undid the latch and pushed open the window. She closed her eyes. A warm sigh of the wind carried the scent of hawthorn blossom from the hedgerow.”
― Paula Brackston, Lamp Black, Wolf Grey

“Just as my body suddenly yearns for long walks in the warm sunshine, so, too, my soul yearns to be stretched and watered after a somewhat stagnant season of comfortable coziness.”
― Laura Thomas

“Spring was coming. Lara could feel it hovering at the edges of the frigid air. The world was holding its breath. She loved to think of the smallest flowers making their way up through the frozen earth. Pale yellow celandines, pink-tipped daisies, the little white stars of the chamomile, the bright yellow faces of the dandelions.”
― Ella Griffin, The Flower Arrangement

“They basked in the sweet-scented breeze, and felt the sunshine warming their bare heads. Petals drifted from the gnarled apple and cherry trees, creating a pretty storm, like confetti. They lay together in the grass, watching a beetle trundling through the blades, its clumsy movements reminiscent of the soldiers' giant transport trucks. Birdsong filled the air, horse buses clopped through the street, and somewhere along the city docks, a ship's whistle blew. When it was time to go home, they packed everything into the basket and walked together, their clasped hands swinging between them. Annalise loved these perfect days with her mother, when the air was warm and the tulips and daffodils were coming up.”
― Susan Wiggs, The Apple Orchard

“Winter passed, and the world around began to wake. The birds returned to the kingdom and set about readying their nests, deer could be seen once more grazing where the fields met the woods, and buds burst forth upon the branches of the kingdom's trees.”
― Kate Morton, The Forgotten Garden

“No one on this earth simply succeeded in stopping feelings from running wild, and surely not because his or her thoughts wanted it badly.”
― Leen Lefebre, Ebba, the first Easter Hare (SPRING)

“The only ones who count are the living.”
― Karl Ove Knausgard, Spring

“As the umbrellas went up in a sudden flowering, the sun came out, and we were glad. The pigeons flapped and scratched and cooed; there were shiny puddles on the sidewalk; dogs sniffed the freshly washed scents. Pink powder puffs hung from the trees; wind blew.
Poor bedraggled Rosa. The umbrella always seemed blow itself inside out. It was difficult to carry the packages from the market and the umbrella at the same time. I kept juggling. I wouldn't allow myself to drop the fresh eggs, no. Or the green cauliflower, ripe yet firm. The delicate rose-colored tuna wrapped in paper; silky skin, so tender to the touch.
It was essential to get to market early, before work, while everything was fresh, before it had been picked over and pawed by housewives. I loved my daily visits to the market, seeing all of nature's bounty beautifully arranged for me to choose from. The aroma of the fresh peas, mint, and basil mingled with the smell of raw meat hanging at the butcher's and reminded me of my early life on the farm.”
― Lily Prior, La Cucina

“Plumes of white, pink, and purple blossoms offset the one hundred shades of green our little city is known for this time of year: lime, celery, and avocado, butter lettuce and kale, Granny Smith apple and broccoli and sage.”
― Jennie Shortridge, Eating Heaven

“In the spring; Love blossoms,
eternal red, from the dreams of innocent roses.”
― Sir Kristian Goldmund Aumann

“Spring came down hard that year. And I do mean hard, like the fist of some drunken pike poker with too much fury and not enough ale, whose wife just left him for some wandering minstrel and whose commanding officer absconded with his pay.”
― Alex Bledsoe, The Sword-Edged Blonde

“I never expected he'd use a French cooking technique on common rice balls.
He's completely unconfined by country or style.
What an amazing freestyle cooking!
Not only that, Poêle is a technique made for cooking ingredients with thicker skins and rinds.
Both seer fish and salmon have good, thick skins, making them the perfect fish to use!
Soma realized that immediately...
... and then adjusted his dish to accommodate.
The pure white rice looks almost like little, gleaming flakes of snow.
The dark seer fish pushes its way up proudly through all that white...
... like the vitality of spring itself!
With this one simple dish...
... he has portrayed the moment of spring's beginning.”
― Yuto Tsukuda, Food Wars!: Shokugeki no Soma, Vol. 2

“ The fish is grilled to delicate, flaky perfection...
The cabbage puree is an unusual choice...
... but its smooth texture and mild, sweet flavor compliment the seer fish beautifully.
In combination, the seer fish- in season in the spring- and the spring cabbage each magnify the deliciousness of the other.
It's a dish as gorgeous as a fresh spring day! ”
― Yuto Tsukuda, Food Wars!: Shokugeki no Soma, Vol. 2

“Quiet is the color
of midnight, juxtaposing
with the silence of an
unfolding spring’s mood.”
― Carolyn Riker, My Dear, Love Hasn't Forgotten You

“By the time COVID-19 reached Tucson, Arizona, USA, it was springtime flowering season with 74 degrees warm and sunny days.”
― Steven Magee