Quotes About Summer

May was like the Friday night of summer: all the good times lying ahead of you, bright and shiny and waiting to be lived.

Waves of heat shimmy off the tarmac, and the air is stiflingly hot, with humidity that's even worse

It seemed like a garden where no frost could wither or rough wind blow--a garden remembering a hundred vanished summers." ? L.M. Montgomery, Emily of New Moon

All I have are fragmented dreams that drive me fucking crazy. Whatever we started eight years ago, we'll finish this summer. One way or the other." Nothing on earth could convince him to let her out of his sight now. Possessiveness, desire, and emotions he hadn't felt in so many years he barely remembered them rose to the surface of his consciousness.

And you and I shall in a garden meet again upon an afternoon in summer when the sun stands midway between zenith and the sea, where we met oft before. For Fate and Chance play but one game together with every move the same, and they play it oft to while eternity away.

She was wearing an old summer dress as a nightgown, but in the mornings it could work as a dress again, if you just tossed a cardigan over it and put on shoes. In this risky manner, she knew, insanity could encroach.

That was also back in the days when I thought the ice-cream man lived in his truck

Then a wayward glance from a lass, a moment of red, bursting fury from a stranger, a blow given and a blow returned, and all that might have been my life vanished like a fog upon the fens beneath a summer sun.

You see, she learned to love him one summer (...) so she put her love away in a corner of her heart, and tried to forget it, hoping it would either die, or have a right to live.

During the summer months, he could send oil by water, greatly enhancing his bargaining power with the railroads.

Of course, who can forget that first love, or first sex, or first drink - especially if they all occur together. I also remember how, after Ligeia had left our lives, I'd worried for months that she might reappear and tell Bill what I'd never confessed to him. But after a while nostalgia supplanted guilt and our summer at Panther Creek became more a tender coming-of-age story, a summer of love complete with bucolic setting.

HE felt so tired that he felt almost like lying down there where he was in the warm sunshine just waiting until someone showed up but then he thought he did not know long a day was a summer day in England and how soon afternoon and evening would arrive and he didn't want to find himself on the street when it got dark.

A thin grey fog hung over the city, and the streets were very cold; for summer was in England.

One day, a high summer flood washed him out of the burrow where he lived with his father and mother, and carried him, kicking and clucking, down a roadside ditch. He found a

One day, a high summer flood washed him out of the burrow where he lived with his father and mother, and carried him, kicking and clucking, down a roadside ditch.

You mustn't swim till you're six weeks old, Or your head will be sunk by your heels; And summer gales and Killer Whales Are bad for baby seals. Are bad for baby seals, dear rat, As bad as bad can be; But splash and grow strong, And you can't be wrong. Child of the Open Sea!

Everything seemed to grow blacker as I sat there, except for the fireflies whose tiny pulsing lights drew arcs through the dark summer air. On off . . . on off . . . on off . . . on off. The longer I stared, the dizzier I got, until I felt as if the world was tipping and pitching me forward down the mountainside into the long throat of the night.

Back for the summer, eh?" he inquired. "Say, you certainly look awful. What are those big circles under your eyes?" "Glasses," I said evenly. "What the hell do you think they are?

One stifling summer afternoon last August, in the attic of a tiny stone house in Pennsylvania, I made a most interesting discovery: the shortest, cheapest method of inducing a nervous breakdown ever perfected. In this technique..., the subject is placed in a sharply sloping attic heated to 340 F and given a mothproof closet known as the Jiffy-Cloz to assemble.

those who remain in Paris in July must be true Parisians.

Always keep mint on your windowsill in August, to ensure that buzzing flies will stay outside, where they belong. Don't think the summer is over, even when roses droop and turn brown and the stars shift position in the sky. Never presume August is a safe or reliable time of the year.

the summer of the gypsy moths when all the trees in their yard were bare, the leaves chewed by caterpillars. You could hear crunching in the night. You could see silvery cocoon webbing in porch rafter and strung across stop signs.

The season I haunted Dreamland was the same summer I borrowed Maureen's copy of Jane Eyre. I wanted to read it for myself so that I might understand the depth of Mr. Morris's passion for this tale. Maureen said I could only have access to the volume when I was with her, for she was so protective of the book she kept it wrapped in brown paper to shield its cover.

Snow in April means a hot summer to come.