April ... hath put a spirit of youth in everything.
Spring has returned. The Earth is like a child that knows poems.
Spring is nature's way of saying, 'Let's party!'
Spring is when you feel like whistling even with a shoe full of slush.
April is a promise that May is bound to keep.
No winter lasts forever; no spring skips its turn.
In the spring, at the end of the day, you should smell like dirt.
The sun was warm but the wind was chill. You know how it is with an April day.
The first day of spring is one thing, and the first spring day is another. The difference between them is sometimes as great as a month.
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!
Every spring is the only spring, a perpetual astonishment.
I love spring anywhere, but if I could choose I would always greet in a garden.
April prepares her green traffic light and the world thinks Go.
You can cut all the flowers but you cannot keep spring from coming.
Everything is blooming most recklessly; if it were voices instead of colors, there would be an unbelievable shrieking into the heart of the night.
Sweet April showers do spring May flowers.
Science has never drummed up quite as effective a tranquilizing agent as a sunny spring day.
April is the cruelest month, breeding lilacs out of the dead land, mixing memory and desire, stirring dull roots with spring rain.
And Spring arose on the garden fair,
Like the Spirit of Love felt everywhere;
And each flower and herb on Earth's dark breast
rose from the dreams of its wintry rest.
The day the Lord created hope was probably the same day he created Spring.