"In the spring, at the end of the day, you should smell like dirt."
— Margaret Atwood

"Every year, back comes Spring, with nasty little birds yapping their fool heads off and the ground all mucked up with plants."
— Dorothy Parker

"Aprils have never meant much to me, autumns seem that season of beginning, spring."
— Truman Capote (Breakfast at Tiffany's)

"Those you’ve known
And lost, still walk behind you
All alone
They linger till they find you

Without them
The world grows dark around you
And nothing is the same until you know that they have found you"
— Moritz Stiefel, Spring Awakening

""You can cut all the flowers but you cannot keep Spring from coming.""
— Pablo Neruda

"An Irish wedding is a tame thing to an Irish funeral."
— Mary Deasy (The Hour of Spring)

"Cause you know,
I don't do sadness
Not even a little bit.
Just don't need it in my life
Don't want any part of it.
I don't do sadness,
Hey, I've done my time
Looking back on it all
Man, it blows my mind,
I don't do sadness
So been there.
Don't do sadness
Just don't care."
— Moritz Stiefel- Spring Awakening

"Spring is the time of plans and projects."
— Leo Tolstoy (Anna Karenina)

"People talk about the beauty of the spring, but I can't see it. The trees are brown and bare, slimy with rain. Some are crawling with new purple hairs. And the buds are bulging like tumorous acne, and I can tell that something wet, and soft, and cold, and misshapen is about to be born.

And I am turning into a vampire."
— M.T. Anderson (Thirsty)

"The Irish are never at peace but when they're fighting."
— Mary Deasy

"When the groundhog casts his shadow
And the small birds sing
And the pussywillows happen
And the sun shines warm
And when the peepers peep
Then it is Spring"
— Margaret Wise Brown

"It was in the spring that Josephine and I had first loved each other, or, at least, had first come into the full knowledge that we loved. I think that we must have loved each other all our lives, and that each succeeding spring was a word in the revelation of that love, not to be understood until, in the fullness of time, the whole sentence was written out in that most beautiful of all beautiful springs."
— L.M. Montgomery (Further Chronicles of Avonlea)

"The obligation to endure gives us the right to know."
— Jean Rostand

"It had been in a Paris house, with many people around, and my dear friend Jules Darboux, wishing to do me a refined aesthetic favor, had touched my sleeve and said, "I want you to meet-" and led me to Nina, who sat in the corner of a couch, her body folded Z-wise, with an ashtray at her heel, and she took a long turquoise cigarette holder from her lips and joyfully, slowly exclaimed, "Well, of all people-" and then all evening my heart felt like breaking, as I passed from group to group with a sticky glass in my fist, now and then looking at her from a distance (she did not look...), and listening to scraps of conversation, and overheard one man saying to another, "Funny, how they all smell alike, burnt leaf through whatever perfume they use, those angular dark-haired girls," and as it often happens, a trivial remark related to some unknown topic coiled and clung to one's own intimate recollection, a parasite of its sadness."
— Vladimir Nabokov (The Portable Nabokov)

"At the beginning of the day, when you're doing a show like this, you want to entertain and you want people to have a really fun time...but at the end of the day you want them to walk out feeling changed and taking something more away from it...and it's really kind of rare that you get to do that all in the same night."
— John Gallagher Jr.

"Look at us, said the violets blooming at her feet, all last winter we slept in the seeming death but at the right time God awakened us, and here we are to comfort you."
— Edward Payson Roe

"I glanced out the window at the signs of spring. The sky was almost blue, the trees were almost budding, the sun was almost bright."
— Millard Kaufman (Bowl of Cherries)

"I suppose the best kind of spring morning is the best weather God has to offer."
— Dodie Smith (I Capture the Castle)

"Someone knocked me down; I pushed Brinker over a small slope; someone was trying to tackle me from behind. Everywhere there was the smell of vitality in clothes, the vital something in wool and flannel and corduroy which spring releases. I had forgotten that this existed, this smell which instead of the first robin, or the first bud or leaf, means to me that spring has come. I had always welcomed vitality and energy and warmth radiating from thick and sturdy winter clothes. It made me happy, but I kept wondering about next spring, about whether khaki, or suntans or whatever the uniform of the season was, had this aura of promise in it. I felt fairly sure it didn't."
— John Knowles

"The time of dangling insects arrived. White houses with caterpillars dangling from the eaves. White stones in the driveways. You can walk at night down the middle of the street and hear women talking on the telephone. Warmer weather produces voices in the dark. They are talking about their adolescent sons. The sons are almost frightening. The quantities they eat. They way they loom in doorways. These are the days that are full of wormy bugs. They are in the grass, stuck to the siding, hanging in the air, hanging from the trees and eaves, stuck to the window screens. The women talk long-distance to the grandparents of the growing boys. They share the Trimline phone, beamish old folks in hand-knit sweaters on fixed incomes."
— Don DeLillo (White Noise)

"For our part, when we feel, we
evaporate; ah, we breathe
ourselves out and away; with each new
heartfire
we give off a fainter scent. True,
someone may tell us:
you're in my blood, this room, Spring
itself
is filled with you . . . To what end?
He can't hold us,
we vanish within him and around him."
— Rainer Maria Rilke (Duino Elegies)

"When icicles hang by the wall,
And Dick the shepherd blows his nail,
And Tom bears logs into the hall,
And milk comes frozen home in pail,
When blood is nipp'd, and ways be foul,
Then nightly sings the staring owl,
To-whit! To-who!—a merry note,
While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.

When all aloud the wind doe blow,
And coughing drowns the parson's saw,
And birds sit brooding in the snow,
And Marian's nose looks red and raw,
When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl,
Then nightly sings the staring owl,
To-whit! To-who!—a merry note,
While greasy Joan doth keel the pot."
— William Shakespeare (Love's Labour's Lost)

"The world is exploding in emerald, sage, and lusty chartreuse - neon green with so much yellow in it. It is an explosive green that, if one could watch it moment by moment throughout the day, would grow in every dimension."
— Amy Seidl (Early Spring: An Ecologist and Her Children Wake to a Warming World)

"I enjoy the spring more than the autumn now. One does, I think, as one gets older."
— Virginia Woolf (Jacob's Room)

"You may have noticed there are three things an Irishman always puts his soul in: his religion, his sports, and his politics. If you ever find an Irishman who is wishy-washy on any one of those, you can make up your mind to it he is not the true article at all."
— Mary Deasy (The Hour of Spring)

"Honest Winter, snow-clad, and with the frosted beard, I can welcome not uncordially; But that long deferment of the calendar's promise, that weeping gloom of March and April, that bitter blast outraging the honour of May how often has it robbed me of heart and hope?"
— George Gissing

""Being a man, I may fall passionately in love with a woman someday, but I positively assert that if I had to get involved in a rivalry as intense as the love itself in order to win the object of love, I would sooner give her up by standing aloof with my hands in my pockets, no matter what pain or sacrifice I might have to endure. Others may criticize me as unmanly, cowardly, weak-willed, or whatever. But if the woman is one so wavering between her suitors that she can only be won through that kind of painful competition, I can't regard her as worth the bitter rivalry. It's far more satisfying to my conscience to have the manliness to allow my rival free play in the field of love and for me to gaze in loneliness at the scars of love than to have the pleasure of embracing by force a woman who would not willingly give me her heart."

- NATSUME Soseki, translation by Kingo Ochiai & Sanford Goldstein"
— Natsume Soseki

"postremo pereunt imbres, ubi eos pater aether
in gremium matris terrai praecipitavit;
at nitidae surgunt fruges ramique virescunt
arboribus, crescunt ipsae fetuque gravantur.
hinc alitur porro nostrum genus atque ferarum,
hinc laetas urbes pueris florere videmus
frondiferasque novis avibus canere undique silvas,
hinc fessae pecudes pinguis per pabula laeta
corpora deponunt et candens lacteus umor
uberibus manat distentis, hinc nova proles
artubus infirmis teneras lasciva per herbas
ludit lacte mero mentes perculsa novellas.
haud igitur penitus pereunt quaecumque videntur,
quando alit ex alio reficit natura nec ullam
rem gigni patitur nisi morte adiuta aliena."
— Titus Lucretius Carus (De Rerum Natura: Bks. 1-6)