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Quotations about February


Related Quotes      Winter      Weather      Valentines      Seasons      Spring


Welcome to my page of quotations about the month of February. Beginnings of springtime, valentine kisses, and yummy hot cocoa to fend off the evening chill! I've spent many, many hours over the years reading through old books and poetry to find these literary treasures, and I hope you enjoy them as much as I do. —tεᖇᖇ¡·g


Today is the first of February, snowy, brilliant, but dripping with the sound of spring wherever the sun lies warm, and calling with the heart of spring yonder where the crows are assembling. There is spring in the talk of the chickadees outside my window, and in the cheerful bluster of a red squirrel in the hickory. ~Dallas Lore Sharp, The Atlantic Monthly, February 1908


Without Valentine's Day, February would be... well, January. ~Jim Gaffigan


In the coldest February, as in every other month in every other year, the best thing to hold on to in this world is each other. ~Linda Ellerbee, Move On: Adventures in the Real World, 1991


The most serious charge which can be brought against New England is not Puritanism, but February.... Spring is too far away to comfort even by anticipation, and winter long ago lost the charm of novelty. This is the very three a.m. of the calendar. ~Joseph Wood Krutch


February brings the rain,
Thaws the frozen lake again.
~Sara Coleridge (1802–1852), "The Garden Year"


February is merely as long as is needed to pass the time until March. ~J.R. Stockton


Good morrow, Benedick. Why, what's the matter,
That you have such a February face,
So full of frost, of storm and cloudiness?
~William Shakespeare, Much Ado about Nothing (Act V, Scene 4, Don Pedro)


[I]n the gloomy month of February.... The Deserts of Arabia are not more dreary and inhospitable than the streets of London at such a time... ~Washington Irving, Oliver Goldsmith: A Biography, 1849


A small bird twitters on a leafless spray,
Across the snow-waste breaks a gleam of gold:
What token can I give my friend to-day
But February blossoms, pure and cold?
Frail gifts from Nature's half-reluctant hand...
I see the signs of spring about the land...
[T]hese chill snowdrops, fresh from wintry bowers,
Are the forerunners of a world of flowers.
~Sarah Doudney, "Snowdrops (Consolation)," c.1881


With the lengthening days which distinguish the third month of winter from its predecessor, come ardent desires for spring, and longings for the time of birds and flowers. An adventurous swallow too early flying from the south, a vision of snowdrops in the snow, a day of April warmth lit by a slant February sun, are all hailed with pleasure as harbingers of a more gracious season on its northland way. ~Oscar Fay Adams, January 1886


February, a form
Pale-vestured, wildly fair,—
One of the North Wind's daughters,
With icicles in her hair.
~Edgar Fawcett, "The Masque of Months," c.1878


Fair Maid of February! — drop of snow
Enchanted to a flower, and there within
A dream of April green, — who without sin
Conceived wast, but how no man may know...
~"A Flower," Fraser's Magazine, February 1879


I miss everything about Chicago, except January and February. ~Gary Cole (b.1956)


I thought the world was cold in death;
      The flowers, the birds, all life was gone,
      For January's bitter breath
      Had slain the bloom and hushed the song.
And still the earth is cold and white,
      And mead and forest yet are bare;
      But there's a something in the light
      That says the germ of life is there.
~Mrs. Jane [Goodwin] Austin, "February," c.1886


I know him, February's thrush,
And loud at eve he valentines
On sprays that paw the naked bush
Where soon will sprout the thorns and bines.
~George Meredith, "The Thrush in February," c.1885


 
 
The shortest day has passed, and whatever nastiness of weather we may look forward to in January and February, at least we notice that the days are getting longer. Minute by minute they lengthen out. It takes some weeks before we become aware of the change. It is imperceptible even as the growth of a child, as you watch it day by day, until the moment comes when with a start of delighted surprise we realize that we can stay out of doors in a twilight lasting for another quarter of a precious hour. ~V. Sackville-West, "Over winter's hump"


Like mimic meteors the snow
      In silence out of heaven sifts,
      And wanton winds that wake and blow
      Pile high their monumental drifts.
And looking through the window-panes
      I see, 'mid loops and angles crossed,
      The dainty geometric skeins
      Drawn by the fingers of the Frost.
'Tis here at dawn where comes his love,
      All eager and with smile benign,
      A golden Sunbeam from above,
      To read the Frost's gay valentine.
~Frank Dempster Sherman, "In February," c.1886


Wan, wind-wracked month, of all the months most bare
Of outward beauty or of inward grace...
~Mary Barker Dodge, "A String of Beads: The Year's Rosary, Second Bead: Valentine's Day — February," 1885


February is the border between winter and spring. ~Terri Guillemets, "Years," 2002


On the wind in February
Snowflakes float still,
Half inclined to turn to rain,
Nipping, dripping, chill.
~Christina Georgina Rossetti, "A Year's Windfalls," 1866


Even winter — the hardest season, the most implacable — dreams, as February creeps on, of the flame that will presently melt it away. Everything tires with time, and starts to seek some opposition, to save it from itself. ~Clive Barker, The Hellbound Heart, 1986


Cold and snowy February
Does seem slow and trying, very.
Still, a month made gay by Cupid
Never could be wholly stupid.
~Louise Bennett Weaver and Helen Cowles LeCron, "February," A Thousand Ways to Please a Husband with Bettina's Best Recipes, 1917


[T]he season of snow is past;
      The mild south wind is on high;
      And the scent of the spring is cast
      From his wing as he hurries by...
The little birds twitter and cheep
      To their loves on the leafless larch:
      But seven foot deep the snow-wreaths sleep,
      And the year hath not worn to March.
~John Addington Symonds, "In February," 1880


Late February, and the air's so balmy
snowdrops and crocuses might be fooled
into early blooming. Then, the inevitable blizzard
will come, blighting our harbingers of spring,
and the numbed yards will go back undercover.
~Gail Mazur, "The Idea of Florida During a Winter Thaw," The Common, 1995


The flowers of late winter and early spring occupy places in our hearts well out of proportion to their size. ~Gertrude Smith Wister (1905–1999)


Thick February mists cling heavily
To the dead earth and to each leafless tree,
And closer down upon the hilltops draw,
Dull forecasts there of bright, sure-coming spring;
Yet the heart gathers hope and strange delight
From this dear, unlovely, wished-for sight
Of leaden-misted twilights lengthening.
~Emma Lazarus, "Expectation," c.1872


Along about the beginning of February, when the days of winter seem endless and no amount of wistful recollecting can bring back any air of summer, I caught one of those colds which last for two days in the children and two weeks with me. ~Shirley Jackson, Raising Demons, 1957


[L]ike thee to those in sorrow,
Comes to bid a sweet good-morrow
To the rough year just awake
In its cradle on the brake.
The brightest hour of unborn Spring,
Through the winter wandering,
Found, it seems, the halcyon Morn
To hoar February born.
~Percy Bysshe Shelley


February...
Bending from Heaven, in azure mirth,
It kissed the forehead of the Earth,
And smiled upon the silent sea,
And bade the frozen streams be free,
And waked to music all their fountains,
And breathed upon the frozen mountains...
~Percy Bysshe Shelley


February makes a bridge and March breakes it. ~Witts Recreations, Selected from the Finest Fancies of Moderne Muses, with a Thousand Outlandish Proverbs (edited by George Herbert, 1593–1633)


Late February days; and now, at last,
Might you have thought that winter's woe was past;
So fair the sky was, and so soft the air.
~William Morris, "February: Bellerophon in Lycia," The Earthly Paradise: A Poem, 1870


It must be terrible to bury someone you love in early May... Or in September... Or at Christmas. It must be terrible at Christmas. February is a suitable month for dying. Everything around is dead, the trees black and frozen so that the appearance of green shoots two months hence seems preposterous, the ground hard and cold, the snow dirty, the winter hateful, hanging on too long. ~Anna Quindlen, One True Thing: A Novel, 1994


It is frequently asked, "Why must February have only 28 days? Why can't you borrow one day from the end of January and one day from the beginning of March and make all three months 30 days long?" The answer is that while you can end January on the 30th, you can't begin March on the 2nd. ~Robert Brault, rbrault.blogspot.com



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Last modified 2016 Oct 28 Fri 18:27 PDT


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