April is the cruelest month, breeding lilacs out of the dead land,

April is the cruelest month, breeding lilacs out of the dead land, mixing memory and desire, stirring dull roots with spring rain. – TS (Thomas Stearns) Eliot

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My sorrow, when shes here with me, thinks these dark days of autumn rain are beautiful as days can be; she loves the bare, the withered tree; she walks the sodden pasture lane. – Robert Frost

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The sun shines different ways in winter and summer. We shine different ways in the seasons of our lives. – Terri Guillemets

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January, month of empty pockets! Let us endure this evil month, anxious as a theatrical producers forehead. – Sidonie Gabrielle Colette

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When chill Novembers surly blast make fields and forest bare. – Robert Burns

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