Quotes About Summer

Summer had come to sit on New York's face.

I have only to break into the tightness of a strawberry, and I see summer – its dust and lowering skies.

Then summer came. A summer limp with the weight of blossomed things. Heavy sunflowers weeping over fences; iris curling and browning at the edges far away from their purple hearts; ears of corn letting their auburn hair wind down to their stalks. AND THE BOYS. The beautiful, beautiful boys who dotted the landscape like jewels, split the air with their shouts in the field, and thickened the river with their shining wet backs. EVEN THEIR FOOTSTEPS LEFT A SMELL OF SMOKE BEHIND!

You don't know what heat is until you cross the border from Texas to Louisiana in the summer. You can't come up with words that catch it. Trees give up. Turtles cook in their shells. Describe that if you know how.

Qua nesquik mosquitos.

I first saw Lucas at the end of July last summer. Of course, I didn't know who he was then... in fact, come to think of it, I didn't even know what he was. All I could see from the backseat of the car was a green-clad creature padding along the Stand in a shimmering haze of heat; a slight and ragged figure with a mop of straw-blond hair and a way of walking - I smile when I think of it - a way of walking that whispered secrets to the air.

I wondered if this was a sign that, whatever happened this summer, I'd be the one with a scar.

I don't know if that's love, to need the sensations produced by the body more than the body itself. Not the kiss, but the taste of celery that came after. Not his hands, but the sound of his hands making art. Not the fact that he was here only for this summer, but the fact that I might find reminders of him in surprising places for the rest of my life.

And I know, in that moment, that my life is real, because there's a line from this moment all the way back to that summer, when I was sixteen, when the whole world opened up and I walked through it.

I wondered if this was a sign that, whatever happened this summer, I'd be the one with a scar.

On the beach, they took turns burying one another up to their necks in the sand and then chased each other with jellyfish hanging on the ends of sticks. They stood in the ocean as waves gently broke across their legs while they ate cotton candy that held the slight tang of salt water. If told this kind of happiness was something that could be attained by everyone, the Fangs would not have believed it.

When in the garden enjoy every moment, Every moment of every day. Spring passes into summer, summer into autumn, And the flowers of henna Shall wither away.

We lose June. We lose July. In August we look in mirrors and want to die.

a stop to her musings. She turned, a sheepish smile tugging at her cheeks. "Of course not. I was just—" "Thinking." He sent her a broad grin. "Always you are thinking. What is it now that makes your forehead wrinkle like a sand plum left in the sun?" Summer laughed as she closed the door, sealing out the cold. The things this man said! But she enjoyed their easy camaraderie. She would miss that as much as the boy when she moved into

Summer night-- even the stars are whispering to each other.

Llegaba a mi casa, de la que ninguna invitación a un veraneo maravilloso me iba a salvar, de vuelta de mi primer baile en el que no había bailado.

Keeping track of Oren had once been the schoolgirl hobby of summer vacations.

Me and Duncan are going down to the beach to skate. I think I'm late." "Ducan and I," she said. Leonardo rolled his eyes. "What. Ever.

Coconut shies and

This lawn hasn't been mowed all summer, and it's August

Okay, little car, you are protesting roads. They are death traps for animals. They are environmentally unsound impervious surfaces that cause runoff. I understand this. But could we protest in the summer?

If you walk along the main street on an August afternoon there is nothing whatsoever to do.

As he passed through the dining room, he stopped and took a white daisy from the bouqet his housekeeper had placed in the middle of the table..and put the daisy in the buttonhole of his summer jacket. Then he opened the front door and walked down the steps to Prinsegade, filled with the blind triumph that people sometimes experience when they've conquered their own better judgment.

I loved a maid fair as summer, with sunlight in her hair.