Home / Quotes / Quote by Katharine Whitehorn

Quote by Katharine Whitehorn

“Spring makes everything look filthy.”

Author

Katharine Whitehorn is an accomplished journalist, born in 1928. She has had a rich career in the media, known for her unique perspective and insightful commentary. more

“If your purse no longer bulges and you've lost your golden treasure, If times you think you're lonely and have hungry grown for pleasure, Don't sit by your hearth and grumble, don't let mind and spirit harden. If it's thrills of joy you wish for get to work and plant a garden! If it's drama that you sigh for, plant a garden and you'll get it You will know the thrill of battle fighting foes that will beset it If you long for entertainment and for pageantry most glowing, Plant a garden and this summer spend your time with green things growing.”

Source: A Heap O' Livin' Along Life's Highway

“Flower god, god of the spring, beautiful, bountiful, Cold-dyed shield in the sky, lover of versicles, Here I wander in April Cold, grey-headed; and still to my Heart, Spring comes with a bound, Spring the deliverer, Spring, song-leader in woods, chorally resonant; Spring, flower-planter in meadows, Child-conductor in willowy Fields deep dotted with bloom, daisies and crocuses: Here that child from his heart drinks of eternity: O child, happy are children!”

Source: New Poems and Variant Readings

“Man is what he believes.”

Men Inspirational Believe Character Motivational Belief Personality Addiction Insightful Famous Basketball

Book:The Life and Genius of Anton Chekhov: Letters, Diary, Reminiscences and Biography: Assorted Collection of Autobiographical Writings of the Renowned Russian Author and Playwright of Uncle Vanya, The Cherry Orchard, The Three Sisters and The Seagull

Source: The Life and Genius of Anton Chekhov: Letters, Diary, Reminiscences and Biography: Assorted Collection of Autobiographical Writings of the Renowned Russian Author and Playwright of Uncle Vanya, The Cherry Orchard, The Three Sisters and The Seagull

“So Spring comes merry towards me here, but earns No answering smile from me, whose life is twin'd With the dead boughs that winter still must bind, And whom today the Spring no more concerns. Behold, this crocus is a withering flame; This snowdrop, snow; this apple-blossom's part To breed the fruit that breeds the serpent's art. Nay, for these Spring-flowers, turn thy face from them, Nor stay till on the year's last lily-stem The white cup shrivels round the golden heart.”