You might think that after thousands of years of coming up too soon and getting frozen, the crocus family would have had… — Robert Benchley Copy Share Image
We get richer and richer in filthier and filthier communities until we reach a final state of affluent misery - crocus on… — John W. Gardner Copy Share Image
The bed of flowers Loosens amain, The beauteous snowdrops Droop o'er the plain. The crocus opens Its glowing bud, Like emeralds others,… — Johann Wolfgang von Goethe Copy Share Image
Late February, and the air's so balmy snowdrops and crocuses might be fooled into early blooming. Then, the inevitable blizzard will come,… — Gail Mazur Copy Share Image
Nature is none other than God in all things. Animals and plants are living effects of Nature; Whence all of God is… — Giordano Bruno Copy Share Image
Flower god, god of the spring, beautiful, bountiful, Cold-dyed shield in the sky, lover of versicles, Here I wander in April Cold,… — Robert Louis Stevenson Copy Share Image
I don't suppose a writing man ever really gets rid of his old crocus-yellow neckties. Sooner or later, I think, they show… — J. D. Salinger Copy Share Image
I wonder if the sap is stirring yet, If wintry birds are dreaming of a mate, If frozen snowdrops feel as yet… — Christina Rossetti Copy Share Image
Nature is none other than God in things... Animals and plants are living effects of Nature; Whence all of God is in… — Giordano Bruno Copy Share Image
A flower is a daisy chain, a graduation, a valentine; a flower is New Year's Eve and an orchid in your hair;… — Jean Hersey Copy Share Image
So Spring comes merry towards me here, but earns No answering smile from me, whose life is twin'd With the dead boughs… — Dante Gabriel Rossetti Copy Share Image
A single crocus blossom ought to be enough to convince our heart that springtime, no matter how predictable, is somehow a gift,… — David Steindl-Rast Copy Share Image
During the winter, you head out into the darkness for a run. When spring comes, and the first crocus pokes up its… — Nina Kuscsik Copy Share Image
The true harbinger of spring is not crocuses or swallows returning to Capistrano, but the sound of the bat on the ball. — Bill Veeck Copy Share Image
Please let him come, and give me the resilience & guts to make him respect me, be interested, and not to throw… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share Image
Iris all hues, roses, and jessamine Reared high their flourished heads between, and wrought Mosaic; underfoot the violet, Crocus, and hyacinth with… — John Milton Copy Share Image
Spring TO what purpose, April, do you return again? Beauty is not enough. You can no longer quiet me with the redness… — Edna St. Vincent Millay Copy Share Image
Spring slattern of seasons you have soggy legs and a muddy petticoat drowsy is your hair your eyes are sticky with dream… — e. e. cummings Copy Share Image
And all the woods are alive with the murmur and sound of Spring, And the rose-bud breaks into pink on the climbing… — Oscar Wilde Copy Share Image
