Quotes About Summer

A phone beeped quietly and she woke. It was morning. Friday the 30th of April. One day before May 1st, and Greta Dapple's birthday, and the Summer of Light, when the world would tear itself apart. What a cheery, happy thought to wake up to.

Crossfire Hurricane was a counterintelligence operation—to find out what Russia was doing, not to find out what the Trump campaign was doing. In other words, in the summer of 2016, the FBI was investigating Russian efforts to manipulate individuals within the Trump campaign, but not the Trump campaign itself.

Over the summer we chatted one night while Angie stripped a bed, changed wet sheets, comforted and repajamaed a toddler, and chased down a car of speeding teenagers while shaking a brick at them, never once interrupting the conversation or setting down her margarita. The only reason this woman isn't president of General Motors is because she's chosen not to be.

From this vantage point in the summer, the countryside below is a dreaming checkerboard over which it seems that one could, with a running start, spread one's arms and fly.

The air smelled of sweet ocean, a special thing. As a little girl she'd identified a half dozen ways the sea could smell, briny or fishy or sandy or green. A few times each summer, for reasons she couldn't explain, the breeze smelled of molasses, dark and sweet. ….

I turned my water gun on Nash right as she creamed him with a water balloon.

I say, "I love you." She says, "I love you too." And then she laughs. "It's kind of crazy. I mean you ." "I know. What the hell?" She covers her mouth with one hand, but her eyes are shining. I'm thinking about a field of grass on a summer day. I'm thinking about the sun and being warmed from the inside and warmed from the outside. I take her hand under the gray-blue sky and I'm home.

But I can tell you what Libby's eyes look like. They are like lying in the grass under the sky on a summer day. You're blinded by the sun, but you can feel the ground beneath you, so as much as you think you could go flying off, you know you won't. You're warmed from the inside and from the outside, and you can still feel that warmth on your skin when you walk away.

And then … she had hardly looked beyond, but there was a great, summer-scented breeze blowing through her spirit, telling her she was young and fair, and wealthy into the bargain

sultry breeze (24)

Gimmerton chapel bells were still ringing and the full, mellow flow of the beck in the valley came soothingly on the ear. It was a sweet substitute for the yet absent murmur of the summer foliage, which drowned that music about the Grange when the trees were in leaf.

In winter nothing more dreary, in summer nothing more divine, than those glens shut in by hills, and those bluff, bold swells of heath.

Enough of thought, philosopher! Too long hast thou been dreaming Unlightened, in this chamber drear, While summer's sun is beaming! Space-sweeping soul, what sad refrain Concludes thy musings once again?

How spring can bring thee glory, yet, And summer win thee to forget

Paled, at length, the sweet sun setting; Sunk to peace the twilight breeze: Summer dews fell softly, wetting Glen, and glade, and silent trees.

Me thinks this heart should rest awhile... / Those flowers were formed to feel the breeze / Wave their light leaves in summer's glow... / And I lament because I know / That cold departure pictures mine.

A soft Sea washed around the House A Sea of Summer Air And rose and fell the magic Planks That sailed without a care — For Captain was the Butterfly For Helmsman was the Bee And an entire universe For the delighted crew.

Inebriate of Air — am I — And Debauchee of Dew — Reeling — thro endless summer days — From Inns of Molten Blue —

This quiet Dust was Gentlemen and Ladies, And Lads and Girls; Was laughter and ability and sighing, And frocks and curls. This passive place a Summer's nimble mansion, Where Bloom and Bees Fulfilled their Oriental Circuit, Then ceased like these.

Summer-we all have seen- A few of us-believed- A few the more aspiring Unquestionably loves... .

Our summer made her light escape into the beautiful.

Reeling, through endless summer days, From inns of molten blue.

These are the days when skies put on The old, old sophistries of June, — A blue and gold mistake. Oh, fraud that cannot cheat the bee

Throw in the intensity of emotions that come with that bittersweet summer sandwiched between high school graduation and the rest of your life...