“I dig old books.” ™
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.
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
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
I am a little fellow,
Though I'm always up to date.
The days I hold within my hand are only twenty-eight;
But I just save my moments up,
And count them o'er and o'er,
Till in four years I've saved enough to make up one day more.
But little folks that kindly are, and pleasant in their play,
May save enough in far less time to make a happy day.
~Pauline Frances Camp, "February," in St. Nicholas, February 1906
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