Sing a song of seasons! Something bright in all! Flowers in the Summer, Fires in the Fall.

A hush is over everything- Silent as women wait for love, The world is waiting for the spring.

Spring is come home with her world-wandering feet, And all things are made young with young desires.

In a pleasant spring morning all men's sins are forgiven.

He had heard an inarticulate promise: he had been pierced by Spring, that sharp knife.

All things on earth point home in old October: sailors to sea, travellers to walls and fences, hunters to field and hollow and the long voice of the hounds, the lover to the love he has forsaken.

To be interested in the changing seasons is a happier state of mind than to be always in love with spring.

The trees are coming into leaf like something almost being said.

It's a sign of summer if the chair gets up when you do.

Regarding winter: there is a privacy about it which no other season gives you ... In spring, summer and fall people sort of have an open season on each other; only in the winter, in the country, can you have longer, quiet stretches when you can savour belonging to yourself.