A man has every season while a woman only has the right to spring.

A man has every season while a woman only has the right to spring.

April is the cruelest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
read more

April is the cruelest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.

The sun was warm but the wind was chill.
You know how it is with an April day
read more

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,
You're 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 you're two months back in the middle of March.

No kind action ever stops with itself. One kind action leads to another. Good example is followed. A single act read more

No kind action ever stops with itself. One kind action leads to another. Good example is followed. A single act of kindness throws out roots in all directions, and the roots spring up and make new trees. The greatest work that kindness does to others is that it makes them kind themselves.

As quickly as the ice vanishes when the Father unlooses the frost
fetters and unwounds the icy ropes of read more

As quickly as the ice vanishes when the Father unlooses the frost
fetters and unwounds the icy ropes of the torrent.

The splendor of the rose and the whitness of the lily do not rob the little violet of it’s scent read more

The splendor of the rose and the whitness of the lily do not rob the little violet of it’s scent nor the daisy of its simple charm. If every tiny flower wanted to be a rose, spring would lose its lovliness.

The day the Lord created hope was probably the same day he created spring.

The day the Lord created hope was probably the same day he created spring.

Now Nature hangs her mantle green
On every blooming tree,
And spreads her sheets o' daisies white
read more

Now Nature hangs her mantle green
On every blooming tree,
And spreads her sheets o' daisies white
Out o'er the grassy lea.

For surely in the blind deep-buried roots
Of all men's souls to-day
A secret quiver shoots.

For surely in the blind deep-buried roots
Of all men's souls to-day
A secret quiver shoots.