Top 68 Spring Wind Quotes
#1. I brought you a feather with the spring wind in it, but since you were late ... ' she looked a me gravely, 'you get a coin instead.
Patrick Rothfuss
#2. One day it had rained before sunrise, and a soft spring wind had been blowing ever since, a soothing and persuading wind, that seemed to draw out the buds from the secret places of the dry twigs, and whisper to the roots of the rose-trees that their flowers would be wanted by and by.
George MacDonald
#3. I dreamed today of bone-white horses, stamping and nuzzling in the bright sunshine, and of orange poppies which swayed and danced in the spring wind.
(Do not look back.)
Neil Gaiman
#4. From some home a jade flute sends dark notes drifting,
Scattering on the spring wind that fills Lo-yang.
Tonight, if we should hear the willow-breaking song,
Who could help but long for the gardens of home?
Li Bai
#5. Spring still makes spring in the mind
When sixty years are told:
Love wakes anew this throbbing heart,
And we are never old
Over the winter glaciers
I see the summer glow
And through the wind-piled snowdrift
The warm rosebuds below.
Ralph Waldo Emerson
#6. In spite of unseasonable wind, snow and unexpected weather of all sorts - a gardener still plants. And tends what they have planted ... believing that Spring will come.
Mary Anne Radmacher
#7. Move with a spring & vegetable swiftness,
Seed-case & burr & tremulous grasses, a grove - vocal in the
wind -
Ronald Johnson
#8. The heaven and earth afford me no shelter at all; I'm glad, unreal are body and soul. Welcome thy weapon, O warrior of Yuen! Thy trusty steel, That flashes lightning, cuts the wind of Spring, I feel.
Alan W. Watts
#9. Like the generations of leaves, the lives of mortal men. Now the wind scatters the old leaves across the earth, now the living timber bursts with the new buds and spring comes round again. And so with men: as one generation comes to life, another dies away.
Homer
#10. Noboru Wataya,
Where are you?
Did the wind-up bird
Forget to wind your spring?
Haruki Murakami
#11. The peach-bud glows, the wild bee hums, and wind-flowers wave in graceful gladness.
Lucy Larcom
#12. Her laughter sounded like April showers, like whispered secrets, like glass wind-chimes.
Rebecca McNutt
#13. It is spring, and the night wind
is moist with the smell of turned loam
and the early flowers;
the moon pours out its beauty
which you see as beauty finally,
warm and offering everything.
You have only to take.
Margaret Atwood
#14. What child has a heart to sing in this capricious clime of ours, when spring comes sailing in from the sea, with wet and heavy cloud-sails and the misty pennon of the east-wind nailed to the mast.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
#15. On a warm spring day, a galloping horse was only too clearly a sweating animal of flesh and blood. But a horse racing through a snowstorm became one with the very elements; wrapped in the whirling blast of the north wind, the beast embodied the icy breath of winter.
Yukio Mishima
#16. As a snow-drift is formed where there is a lull in the wind, so, one would say, where there is a lull of truth, an institution springs up.
Henry David Thoreau
#17. Love is the colour of spring sunshine muted through old windows. Love has a taste, a texture - dark chocolate with pistachios; a sound - wind chimes echoing from a distant hill; a rhythm - the tango, obviously.
Chloe Thurlow
#18. 'Tis spring; come out to ramble
The hilly brakes around,
For under thorn and bramble
About the hollow ground
The primroses are found.
And there's the windflower chilly
With all the winds at play,
And there's the Lenten lily
That has not long to stay
And dies on Easter day.
A.E. Housman
#19. These are the forgeries of jealousy; And never, since the middle summer's spring, Met we on hill, in dale, forest, or mead, By paved fountain or by rushy brook, Or in the beached margent of the sea, To dance our ringlets to the whistling wind, But with thy brawls thou hast disturbed our sport.
William Shakespeare
#20. January brings the snow / Makes your feet and fingers glow / February's ice and sleet / Freeze the toes right off your feet / Welcome March with wintry wind / Would thou wer't not so unkind / April brings the sweet spring showers / On and on for hours and hours ...
Michael Flanders
#21. The golden west between its softly dark shores. The sea moaned eerily on the sand-bar, sorrowful even in spring, but a sly, jovial wind
L.M. Montgomery
#22. The hardest part for us was watching them harvest our Shamouti oranges.Those were our favourites, thick skinned, seedless and juicy.When the wind was strong, the scent of their blossoms in the spring and their fruit in the summer still reached us.
Michelle Cohen Corasanti
#23. A good quote is a beautiful inspirational spring branch in the reader's mind; it is a powerful propulsive force too, just like a wind! All men need winds!
Mehmet Murat Ildan
#24. Winter teetered on the verge of succumbing to the returning sun, but today the breeze still preferred the touch of snowflakes
Rue
#25. If rackabones eat up the sky, if words spring out of rock, my soul will wind down and life run out the clock.
Andre Alexis
#26. in the heart's rain
in the eye's fog
in the winter's smoky snow
in whirling snow
in storms
wind which wants to tear my coat off
legends stories
the blood red dawn of the mind
the warm spring between your thighs
the only haven
Nils-Aslak Valkeapaa
#27. A generation of men is like a generation of leaves; the wind scatters some leaves upon the ground, while others the burgeoning wood brings forth - and the season of spring comes on. So of men one generation springs forth and another ceases.
Homer
#28. I slumbered spring's morning and missed the dawn from everywhere, I heard the cry of birds. That night the sound of wind and rain came. Who knows how many petals had fallen?
Meng Haoran
#29. The sidewalk was completely empty. It was Sunday, early April. An icy wind teetered trash cans and turned my cheeks to marble. In Vietnam we had no weather like that. Here in Cleveland people call it spring.
Paul Fleischman
#30. Poetry is a theorem of a yellow-silk handkerchief knotted with riddles, sealed in a balloon tied to the tail of a kite flying in a white wind against a blue sky in spring.
Carl Sandburg
#31. Dip your fingers n the spring stream or lift your face to the summer rains. Listen for me in the winter wind I'll come back for you.
Evangeline Denmark
#32. The wind is tossing the lilacs,
The new leaves laugh in the sun,
And the petals fall on the orchard wall,
But for me the spring is done.
Beneath the apple blossoms
I go a wintry way,
For love that smiled in April
Is false to me in May.
Sara Teasdale
#33. The wind blows out, the bubble dies; The spring entomb'd in autumn lies; The dew dries up; the star is shot; The flight is past, and man forgot.
Oliver Wendell Holmes Jr.
#34. It's because of you when I'm in bed in the morning that I can wind my spring and tell myself I have to live another good day.
Haruki Murakami
#35. The blue of winter, the brown of spring, the red of summer, and the fall of green. I seek the place of treasures past. I seek the truth of sand and glass. I call to the wind of seasons past. I bring with me the best of summer. I am the one with whom you bask. Deliver me and complete your task.
H.D. Smith
#36. The cool wind blew in my face and all at once I felt as if I had shed dullness from myself. Before me lay a long gray line with a black mark down the center. The birds were singing. It was spring.
Burl Ives
#37. The bitter winds in February were sometimes called the First East Winds, but the longing for spring somehow made them seem more piercing.
Eiji Yoshikawa
#38. Here, also, the future was cried aloud by the wind through the rocks, so that all those who heard would shiver, and then the liquid spring song of the thrush would make all the beauty of moonlight and sunlight blend together, making it true, so true, that happiness must come again
Elyne Mitchell
#39. When the April wind wakes the call for the soil, I hold the plough as my only hold upon the earth, and, as I follow through the fresh and fragrant furrow, I am planted with every foot-step, growing, budding, blooming into a spirit of spring.
Dallas Lore Sharp
#40. I'm a one-hundred-percent, made-in-Florida, dope-smugglin', time-sharin', spring-breakin', log-flumin', double-occupancy discount vacation. I'm a tall glass of orange juice and a day without sunshine. I'm the wind in your sails, the sun on your burn and the moon over Miami. I am the native.
Tim Dorsey
#41. Now the noisy winds are still; April's coming up the hill! All the spring is in her train, Led by shining ranks of rain; Pit, pat, patter, clatter, Sudden sun and clatter patter! ... All things ready with a will, April's coming up the hill!
Mary Mapes Dodge
#42. I am never at my best in the early morning, especially a cold morning in the Yorkshire spring with a piercing March wind sweeping down from the fells, finding its way inside my clothing, nipping at my nose and ears.
James Herriot
#43. Fate. As a child, that word was often my only companion. It whispered to me from dark corners during lonely nights. It was the song of the birds in spring and the call of the wind through bare branches on a cold winter afternoon. Fate. Both my anguish and my solace. My escort and my cage.
Leslye Walton
#44. The sound of the Gion Shoja temple bells echoes the impermanence of all things; the color of the sala flowers reveals the truth that to flourish is to fall. The proud do not endure, like a passing dream on a night in spring; the mighty fall at last, to be no more than dust before the wind.
Helen Craig McCullough
#45. Most of [her ashes] fell into the river in a long gray curtain. But some was caught by the wind and blown upward toward the blue spring sky where it swirled a moment in the air, before dissolving into sunlight.
Kimberly Cutter
#46. May is a pious fraud of the almanac A ghastly parody of real Spring Shaped out of snow and breathed with eastern wind.
James Russell Lowell
#47. They looked for all the world like miniaturized rose petals drained of their color. These pale petals were gathering in the wind like flocking birds - thousands of them, like a spring snowstorm.
John Green
#48. In the spring when the wind is in the new leaves the echo of her voice may still be heard by the fall that bear her name.
J.R.R. Tolkien
#49. There is another sort of day which needs celebrating in song
the day of days when spring at last holds up her face to be kissed, deliberate and unabashed. On that day no wind blows either in the hills or in the mind.
E.B. White
#51. The young world was without a spring: it knew nothing beyond rock and water. There was the colour of open skies and of sunrise and sunset. The only sounds came from the movement of water, whether of rain or streams or waves, from thunder, and from wind sweeping across rock.
Jacquetta Hawkes
#52. I would like to believe when I die that I have given myself away like a tree that sows seed every spring and never counts the loss, because it is not loss, it is adding to future life. It is the tree's way of being. Strongly rooted perhaps, but spilling out its treasure on the wind.
May Sarton
#53. This is a terrible hour, but it is often that darkest point which precedes the rise of day; that turn of the year when the icy January wind carries over the waste at once the dirge of departing winter, and the prophecy of coming spring.
Charlotte Bronte
#54. The generation of mankind is like the generation of leaves. The wind scatters the leaves on the ground, but the living tree burgeons with leaves again in the spring.
Homer
#55. But the southwest wind of Spring brings also remorse. We catch the vague spirit of unrest in the air and we regret our misspent youth.
P.G. Wodehouse
#56. Able closed his eyes. He was running. The grass was green with spring and fragrant, knee-high and cushioning his steps. And there was sun and a warm wind blew. Men called to him from the trees just atop the rise. He ran. He ran to them.
Lance Weller
#57. It was one of those winter days that suddenly dream of spring, when the sky is blue and soft and clear, and the wind has dropped its voice and whispers instead of screaming, and the sun is out and the trees look surprised, and over everything there is the faintest, palest tint of green.
Shirley Jackson
#58. Men in their generations are like the leaves of the trees. The wind blows and one year's leaves are scattered on the ground; but the trees burst into bud and put on fresh ones when the spring comes round.
Homer
#59. The opening of large tracts by the ice-cutters commonly causes a pond to break up earlier; for the water, agitated by the wind, even in cold weather, wears away the surrounding ice.
Henry David Thoreau
#60. When one has faith that the spring thaw will arrive, the winter winds seem to lose some of their punch.
Robert Veninga
#61. Very like leaves upon this earth are the generations of men - old leaves, cast on the ground by wind, young leaves the greening forest bears when spring comes in. So mortals pass; one generation flowers even as another dies away.
Homer
#62. O the wind is a faun in the spring time
When the ways are green for the tread of the May!
List! hark his lay!
Whist! mark his play!
T-r-r-r-l!
Hear how gay!
Clinton Scollard
#63. A ward, and still in bonds, one day
I stole abroad;
It was high spring, and all the way
Primrosed and hung with shade;
Yet was it frost within,
And surly winds
Blasted my infant buds, and sin
Like clouds eclipsed my mind.
Henry Vaughan
#64. Love is like a cherry blossoms ... they bloom at the first promise of the spring, they beautify even and the most grey landscape, they scatter at the first gust of the wind ...
But as they hold, when you look at them, you steal a little vew of paradise ...
Georgia Kakalopoulou
#65. Indoors or out, no one relaxes in March, that month of wind and taxes, the wind will presently disappear, the taxes last us all the year.
Ogden Nash
#66. For us, there is no spring. Just the wind that smells fresh before the storm.
John Milius
#67. The human body is a machine that winds up its own springs: it is a living image of the perpetual motion.
Julien Offray De La Mettrie
#68. Daffodils,
That come before the swallow dares, and take
The winds of March with beauty.
William Shakespeare
