“In November, at winter's gate, the stars are brittle. The sun is a sometime friend. And the world has tucked her children in, with a kiss on their heads, till spring.”
“Spring is the time of year when it is summer in the sun and winter in the shade.”
“and suddenly she began to sing. Keen, heart-piercing was her song as the song of the lark that rises from the gates of night and pours its voice among the dying stars, seeing the sun behind the walls of the world”
“Winter is on my head, but eternal spring is in my heart.”
“. . . the first spring in five free from the rumour of guns across the Channel, a spring anxious to make up for the cold winter, life bursting out after four years of death. All of England raised her face to the sun. . .”
“Stars burn clearall night till dawn.Do that yourself, and a spring will rise in the dark with water your deepest thirst is for.”