Best 81 quotes in «april quotes» category

Oh, to be in England Now that April's there, And whoever wakes in England Sees, some morning, unaware.

One of the reasons I was so proud to be born on April 3, is because I am such a big fan of yours.

Oh, to be in England now that April's there.

One of the great mistakes is to judge policies and programs by their intentions rather than their results.

Plunge into the deep without fear, with the gladness of April in your heart.

One swallow does not make a spring, nor does one fine day.

On the approach of spring, I withdraw without reluctance from the noisy and extensive scene of crowds without company, and dissipation without pleasure.

Our wisdom comes from our experience, and our experience comes from our foolishness.

Peace is joy at rest. Joy is peace on its feet. quoting her pastor in Salon, April 25, 2003

Poor, dear, silly Spring, preparing her annual surprise!

Snow in April is abominable," said Anne. "Like a slap in the face when you expect a kiss.

So sweet love seemed that April morn, when first we kissed beside the thorn, so strangely sweet, it was not strange we thought that love could never change.

Spring is the Period Express from God. Among the other seasons Himself abide, But during March and April None stir abroad Without a cordial interview With God.

Spring in the world! And all things are made new!

Spring makes everything look filthy.

That God once loved a garden we learn in Holy writ. And seeing gardens in the Spring I well can credit it.

The flowers anew, returning seasons bring; but beauty faded has no second spring.

The Mets just had their first .500-or-better April since July of 1992.

Our opponents see an America in which every day is April 15, tax day. Well, we see an America in which every day is the Fourth of July.

Thanks be to God, the air is soft as in April in Seville, and it is a pleasure to be in it, so fragrant it is.

The aim of a joke is not to degrade the human being, but to remind him that he is already degraded.

The longer I live and the more I read, the more certain I become that the real poems about spring aren't written on paper. They are written in the back pasture and the near meadow, and they are issued in a new revised edition every April.

Well, let it pass, he thought; April is over, April is over. There are all kinds of love in the world, but never the same love twice. --The Sensible Thing

The older I get, the faster I was.

We need spring. We need it desperately, and, usually, we need it before God is willing to give it to us.

What's good about March? Well, for one thing, it keeps February and April apart.

Well-apparel'd April on the heel Of limping Winter treads.

Why should I deem myself to be a chisel, when I could be the artist?

April was just beginning, and after the warm spring day it turned cooler, slightly frosty, and a breath of spring could be felt in the soft, cold air. The road from the convent to town was sandy, they had to go at a walking pace; and on both sides of the carriage, in the bright, still moonlight, pilgrims trudged over the sand. And everyone was silent, deep in thought, everything around was welcoming, young, so near— the trees, the sky, even the moon—and one wanted to think it would always be so.

Yup, believe it: I was born on March 28, yet my name is April.

He faced Doug. His eyes were wet. "I am not one of your tricks, Douglas." "Of course, you're not." "That's what I feel like tonight, seeing you in there with all those bodies. One of a thousand nights. One of a thousand fucks. And fuck you for making me feel this way. And fuck you again for making me say fuck in this beautiful place.

But after it's all said and done, don't you want to grow old with your best friend? At the end of the day, that's who you want to share your life and laughter with. Someone who will be there in hard times to hold you tight. Someone who will fight for your honor and support your decisions. Someone who will encourage your dreams and help you to fulfill them.

But it is a sort of April-weather life that we lead in this world. A little sunshine is generally the prelude to a storm.

Coincidences undeniably imply meaning. I am rereading Hart Crane. I notice the date On which he stepped off that boat Was April 26. Tomorrow is April 26. The year of his suicide was 1932. I was four. I am now fifty-one. One undeniable implication in this case then Is that the year, today, Is 1979. Afterward, Crane’s mother scrubbed floors. Eventually, I may or may not Jump overboard. Are there questions?

Did you see the look on that guy's face when he hit the ground? He was all like "Come here, defenceless little girl,' and then you were like 'BAM! Take that, suck-face! I've got superpowers!

Each October I walk into the woods looking for bones: rabbit skulls, a grackle spine, the pelvis of a deer with the blood bleached out. What died in the lush of roses and mint shines out from the tangle of twigs that bind it to the place of its last leaping. The living lack that kind of clarity. In late April, when the water spreads out and out till everything is lilies and seepage, there is only the mystery of tracks, a rustle receding in the many reeds. And so the bones accumulate across my windowsill: the flightless wings and exaggerated grins, the silent unmoving reminders of where the glories of April lead.

Her laughter sounded like April showers, like whispered secrets, like glass wind-chimes.

It was April in Minneapolis and snowing, the flakes coming down in thick swirls enchanting the city

... mixing Memory and desire

Meanwhile 1st April to lie as if they were honest throughout the year.

Putting my hands on. What April couldn't fix Wasn't worth the time: Egg shell & dried placenta Light as memory. Patches of fur, feathers, & bits of skin. A nest Of small deaths among anemone. A canopy edged over, shadowplaying The struggle underneath As if it never happened

October knew, of course, that the action of turning a page, of ending a chapter or shutting a book, did not end the tale. Having admitted that, he would also avow that happy endings were never difficult to find: "It is simply a matter," he explained to April, "of finding a sunny place in a garden, where the light is golden and the grass is soft; somewhere to rest, to stop reading, and to be content.

Some people can't be fooled on April Fool's Day because they were fooled too many times during their entire lifetime.

The seasonal urge is strong in poets. Milton wrote chiefly in winter. Keats looked for spring to wake him up (as it did in the miraculous months of April and May, 1819). Burns chose autumn. Longfellow liked the month of September. Shelley flourished in the hot months. Some poets, like Wordsworth, have gone outdoors to work. Others, like Auden, keep to the curtained room. Schiller needed the smell of rotten apples about him to make a poem. Tennyson and Walter de la Mare had to smoke. Auden drinks lots of tea, Spender coffee; Hart Crane drank alcohol. Pope, Byron, and William Morris were creative late at night. And so it goes.

Okay, don't get mad." She pulled out my stake --- or at least something that looked like my stake,only the hilt of it was now covered in bright blue crystals and diamond-like gems. "You Bedazzled my stake?" "Um ... Surprise," April said, "Just because you're hunting nasty stuff doesn't mean you can't do it in style.

The longest piece of literature I've read lately was a tattoo on this biker I picked up last night. It said, If you're this close, you've gotta suck it.

You spend so much time hating the fact that April behaves more like a mother than a sister, but you're the one who's holding onto the apron strings every time she tries to cut them.

You were right when you said I was holding onto April's apron strings even though she was trying to cut them. I've spent so long relying on her that it's sort of become a habit. It's time I relied on myself for a bit and took control of my life.

Acting is an empty and useless profession.

The weather wouldn't settle down. It would rain cats and dogs, then stop, then drip awhile, then stop while it made up its mind what to do next.