Springtime Quotes

Quotes tagged as "springtime" Showing 1-30 of 71
Mark Twain
“It's spring fever. That is what the name of it is. And when you've got it, you want—oh, you don't quite know what it is you do want, but it just fairly makes your heart ache, you want it so!”
Mark Twain

Then came the healing time, hearts started to shine, soul felt so fine, oh what
“Then came the healing time, hearts started to shine, soul felt so fine, oh what a freeing time it was.”
Aberjhani, Songs from the Black Skylark zPed Music Player

Roman Payne
“Did I live the spring I’d sought?
It’s true in joy, I walked along,
took part in dance,
and sang the song.
and never tried to bind an hour
to my borrowed garden bower;
nor did I once entreat
a day to slumber at my feet.

Yet days aren’t lulled by lyric song,
like morning birds they pass along,
o’er crests of trees, to none belong;
o’er crests of trees of drying dew,
their larking flight, my hands, eschew
Thus I’ll say it once and true…

From all that I saw,
and everywhere I wandered,
I learned that time cannot be spent,
It only can be squandered.”
Roman Payne, Rooftop Soliloquy

Mary Oliver
In Our Woods, Sometimes a Rare Music
Every spring
I hear the thrush singing
in the glowing woods
he is only passing through.
His voice is deep,
then he lifts it until it seems
to fall from the sky.
I am thrilled.
I am grateful.

Then, by the end of morning,
he's gone, nothing but silence
out of the tree
where he rested for a night.
And this I find acceptable.
Not enough is a poor life.
But too much is, well, too much.
Imagine Verdi or Mahler
every day, all day.
It would exhaust anyone.”
Mary Oliver, A Thousand Mornings

Richelle E. Goodrich
“Easter is…
Joining in a birdsong,
Eying an early sunrise,
Smelling yellow daffodils,
Unbolting windows and doors,
Skipping through meadows,
Cuddling newborns,
Hoping, believing,
Reviving spent life,
Inhaling fresh air,
Sprinkling seeds along furrows,
Tracking in the mud.
Easter is the soul’s first taste of spring.”
Richelle E. Goodrich, Making Wishes

Anton Chekhov
“The snow has not yet left the earth, but spring is already asking to enter your heart. If you have ever recovered from a serious illness, you will be familiar with the blessed state when you are in a delicious state of anticipation, and are liable to smile without any obvious reason. Evidently that is what nature is experiencing just now. The ground is cold, mud and snow squelches under foot, but how cheerful, gentle and inviting everything is! The air is so clear and transparent that if you were to climb to the top of the pigeon loft or the bell tower, you feel you might actually see the whole universe from end to end. The sun is shining brightly, and its playful, beaming rays are bathing in the puddles along with the sparrows. The river is swelling and darkening; it has already woken up and very soon will begin to roar. The trees are bare, but they are already living and breathing.”
Anton Chekhov, The Exclamation Mark

Vivian Swift
“POOR MARCH
It is the HOMELIEST month of the year. Most of it is MUD, Every Imaginable Form of MUD, and what isn't MUD in March is ugly late-season SNOW falling onto the ground in filthy muddy heaps that look like PILES of DIRTY LAUNDRY.”
Vivian Swift, When Wanderers Cease to Roam: A Traveler's Journal of Staying Put

“And the birds sang their songs of love. And the flowers serenaded with their sublime fragrances. And the whole world fell in love in spring!”
Avijeet Das

Munia Khan
“Spring is the fountain of love for thirsty winter”
Munia Khan

Pliny the Elder
“From the end spring new beginnings.”
Pliny the Elder

Richelle E. Goodrich
“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

Matt Goulding
“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

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

“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

Mehmet Murat ildan
“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

Rosanna Chiofalo
“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

Sarah Ruhl
“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

Laura   Thomas
“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

Paula Brackston
“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

Andrew Sean Greer
“In the suburbs of Delaware, spring meant not young love and damp flowers but an ugly divorce from winter and a second marriage to buxom summer.”
Andrew Sean Greer, Less

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

Chantel Acevedo
“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

Lily Prior
“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

Jennie Shortridge
“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

Leen Lefebre
“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)

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

Alex Bledsoe
“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

Joanne Harris
“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 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!, 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!, Vol. 2

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