All things seem possible in May.
Winter is on my head, but eternal spring is in my heart.
Spring is when life's alive in everything.
Every spring is the only spring, a perpetual astonishment.
You can cut all the flowers but you cannot keep spring from coming.
Spring has returned. The Earth is like a child that knows poems.
Life stands before me like an eternal spring with new and brilliant clothes.
Sitting quietly, doing nothing, Spring comes, and the grass grows, by itself.
I stare out the window and wait for spring.
In the Spring, I have counted 136 different kinds of weather inside of 24 hours.
No winter lasts forever; no spring skips its turn.
No spring nor summer beauty hath such grace as I have seen in one autumnal face.
Spring comes: the flowers learn their colored shapes.
The Spring I seek is in a new face only.
The month of May was come, when every lusty heart beginneth to blossom, and to bring forth fruit.
Oh, give us pleasure in the orch-ard white, Like nothing else by day, like ghosts by night.
Spring is beautiful, and smells sweet. Spring is when you shake the curtains, and pound on the rugs, and take off your long underwear, and wash in all the corners.
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.
April is the cruelest month, breeding lilacs out of the dead land, mixing memory and desire, stirring dull roots with spring rain.
From the end spring new beginnings.
Hee that is in a towne in May loseth his spring.
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.
I wandered lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills When all at once I saw a crowd A host of golden daffodils Beside the lake beneath the trees Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
May is a pious fraud of the almanac.
May and June. Soft syllables, gentle names for the two best months in the garden year: cool, misty mornings gently burned away with a warming spring sun, followed by breezy afternoons and chilly nights. The discussion of philosophy is over; it's time for work to begin.
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