"January gray is here, like a sexton by her grave; February bears the bier, march with grief doth howl and rave, and April weeps -- but, O ye hours! Follow with May's fairest flowers."

Previous Quote

April is the two-week-old kitten, the month-old lamb, the six-month-old heifer, the two-year-old girl. Too young to know it has either past or future, it wears the ribbon of the fleeting present as part of itself.

— Gladys Hasty Carroll