Seasons Quotes
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Life had its seasons, and the season of letting go would always come, but there was something very beautiful in that, in the letting go. Leaves were always graceful as they floated away from the tree.
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Agriculture probably required a far greater discipline than did any form of food collecting. Seeds had to be planted at certain seasons, some protection had to be given to the growing plants and animals, harvests had to be reaped, stored and divided. Thus, we might argue that it was neither leisure time nor a sedentary existence but the more rigorous demands associated with an agricultural way of life that led to great cultural changes.
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You see if you tell yourself the same tale over and over again enough times then the tellings become separate stories and you will generally fool yourself into forgetting you started with one solitary season out of your life.
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I look upon the judgment of right and wrong as the serpentine dance of a dragon, and the rise and fall of beliefs as but traces left by the four seasons.
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I didn't expect myself to be perfect my first season because no one ever pulled me aside and said "This is how you walk."
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To venerate the simple days Which lead the seasons by, Needs but to remember That from you or I They may take the trifle Termed mortality!
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I don't want last season to be as good as I get.
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The gardens I love best are those that are still affectionately tended by the people who own them and who made them – who planned and planted and replanned and replanted them, who dug in the dirt and moved hoses and watched the gardens change with the cycle of the seasons and over the passage of years.
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Memory, faith, and the natural world as both witness to the cycle of human life and healer to a questioning heart are at the core of this lovely and lyrical collection of poems. The weather changes, people come and go from cities and towns, babies are born, grow up and depart from their parents’ arms, but still, the countryside and its rituals sustain the people and creatures who know how to read the signs of the seasons. In these pages, Laura Grace Weldon shares those signs with us; her poems are the fruit of a wonderful harvest.
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I've closed my heart down, so many seasons. I didn't want to hurt again, I didn't want to try, so I turned myself to ice and stone, said I don't need anyone, and nobody else would ever make me cry.
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Michael Owen will get double figures this season - or at least 10, possibly more.
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I could go to L.A. for limited amounts of time, but I like New York too much. I like seasons. I like fall.
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But so far I have the feeling that the chances are there to repeat last year's season.
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That's one of the benefits of having many seasons behind you, is you have this wealth of characters that you can reintroduce, and that have a history with your current regulars, so you don't have to start from scratch.
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When I got Trophy Wife, the first fear is, This could go away; the second is, Its here and I love it; I hope it gets a second season.
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Springtime is a season we tend to forget as we grow older, and yet far back in our memories, like the landscape of a country visited long ago, it's always there.
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There are having flowers in Spring, breezes in Summer, moon in Autumn, snows in Winter. If there is nothing worrying over you, it will be the best seasons at all times.
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Through each passage and each season, may you trust the goodness f life.
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During my 18 years I came to bat almost 10,000 times. I struck out about 1,700 times and walked maybe 1,800 times. You figure a ballplayer will average about 500 at-bats a season. That means I played 7 years without ever hitting the ball.
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I used to get 15-20 bunt hits a season. Now, I'm down to five or six. Infielders still play me in, but I'm always looking if the opportunity is there.
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Spring comes with flowers, autumn with the moon, summer with the breeze, winter with snow. When idle concerns don't fill your thoughts, that's your best season.
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Seasons may change winter to spring, but I love you until the end of time Come what may, come what may, I will love you until my dying day Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place Suddenly it moves with such a perfect grace Suddenly my life doesn’t seem such a waste, it all revolves around you. And there’s no mountain too high no river too wide Sing out this song and I’ll be there by your side Storm clouds may gather and stars may collide But I love you until the end of time.
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This is Christmas – the season of perpetual hope.
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Of the nine red cards this season we probably deserved half of them.
