Spring is about to spring. Persephone is coming back and the ice is groaning, about to break with the exquisite deafening roar. It's a time for madness; a time for our fangs to come down and our eyes to glaze over so that the beast in us can sing w
Spring is about to spring. Persephone is coming back and the ice is groaning, about to break with the exquisite deafening roar. Itâs a time for madness; a time for our fangs to come down and our eyes to glaze over so that the beast in us can sing with unmitigated joy. Oh yes, ecstasy, I welcome thee.
 âDavid Assael
Spring is natureâs way of saying, âLetâs party!â
 âRobin Williams
The highlight of my career? In â67 with St Louis, I walked with the bases loaded to drive in the winning run in an intersquad came in spring training.
âBob Uecker
All through the long winter, I dream of my garden. On the first day of spring, I dig my fingers deep into the soft earth. I can feel its energy and my spirits soar.
âHelen Hayes
In the spring, at the end of the day, you should smell like dirt.
 âMargaret Atwood
Spring is when you feel like whistling even with a shoe full of slush.
 âDoug Larson
in Justâ / spring when the world is mud â / luscious the little / lame balloonman / whistle far and wee.
 âe.e. cummings
If spring came but once a century instead of once a year, or burst forth with the sound of an earthquake and not in silence, what wonder and expectation there would be in all hearts to behold the miraculous change.
 âHenry Wadsworth Longfellow
Every spring is the only spring, a perpetual astonishment.
 âEllis Peters
To be interested in the changing seasons is a happier state of mind than to be hopelessly in love with spring.
 âGeorge Santayana
In the spring, I have counted 136 different kinds of weather inside of 24 hours.
 âMark Twain
Spring has returned. The earth is like a child that knows poems.
 âRainer Maria Rilke
The sun was warm but the wind was chill. / You know how it is with an April day/ When the sun is out and the wind is still, / Youâre one month on in the middle of May. / But if you so much as dare to speak, / A cloud comes over the sunlit arch, / A wind comes off a frozen peak, / And youâre two months back in the middle of March.
â Robert Frost