Quotes About Summer

summer was our best season: it was sleeping on the back screeneed porch in cots, or trying to sleep in the treehouse; summer was everything good to eat;it was a thousand colors in a parched landscape.

Somehow, it was hotter then: a black dog suffered on a summer's day; bony mules hitched to Hoover carts flicked flies in the sweltering shade of the live oaks on the square. Men's stiff collars wilted by nine in the morning. Ladies bathed before noon, after their three o'clock naps, and by nightfall were like soft teacakes with frostings of sweat and sweet talcum.

I had never thought about it, but summer was Dill by the fishpool smoking string, Dill's eyes alive with complicated plans to make Boo Radley emerge; summer was the swiftness with which Dill would reach up and kiss me when Jem was not looking, the longings we sometimes felt each other feel. With him, life was routine; without him, life was unbearable

Summer was our best season - everything good to eat, a thousand colors in a parched landscape.

Thereafter the summer passed in routine contentment. Routine contentment was: improving our treehouse that rested between giant twin chinaberry trees in the back yard, fussing, running through our list of dramas based on the works of Oliver Optic, Victor Appleton, and Edgar Rice Burroughs. (...) Thus we came to know Dill as a pocket Merlin, whose head teemed with eccentric plans, strange longings, and quaint fancies.

What made you think of Dill?" she asked. "I don't know. Just thought of him." "You never liked him, did you?" Henry smiled. "I was jealous of him. He had you and Jem to himself all summer long, while I had to go home the day school was out. There was nobody at home to fool around with.

Summer, and he watched his children's heart break.

L'estate significava per me Dill accanto alla vasca dei pesci che fumava sigarette di canapa; significava gli occhi di Dill che brillavano mentre almanaccava complicati progetti per stanare Boo Radley; l'estate significava Dill che mi baciava, rapido, quando Jem non ci guardava, significava le nostalgie che ciascuno di noi provava e che l'altro intuiva: con lui la vita era normale; senza di lui, insopportabile.

He had asked me earlier in the summer to marry him, then he promptly forgot about it. He staked me out, marked as his property, said I was the only girl he would ever love, then he neglected me. I beat him up twice but it did no good, he only grew closer to Jem.

summer was the swiftness with which Dill would reach up and kiss me when Jem was not looking, the longing we sometimes felt each other feel. With him life was routine; without him life was unbearable.

Summer was on the way; Jem and I awaited it with impatience. Summer was our best season: it was sleeping on the back screened porch in cots, or trying to sleep in the treehouse; summer was everything good to eat; it was a thousand colors in a parched landscape; but most of all, summer was Dill.

Dill was from Meridian, Mississippi, was spending the summer with his aunt, Miss Rachel, and would be spending every summer in Maycomb from now on. His family was from Maycomb County originally, his mother worked for a photographer in Meridian, had entered his picture in a Beautiful Child contest and won five dollars.

She was silent. Time stopped, shifted, and went lazily in reverse. Somehow, then, it was always summer.

Ben neredeyse alt? ya??ma, Jem de yakla??k on ya??na geldiÄŸinde, yazlar? özgürlük alan?m?z?n s?n?rlar? (Calpurnia'n?n sesinin duyulma mesafesine göre) çizilmiÅŸti.

A medida que avanzaba el verano nuestro juego progresaba. Añadimos diálogos y perfeccionamos la trama hasta que compusimos una pequeña obra teatral en la que introducíamos cambios todos los días. (...) Habíamos compuesto una obra breve y triste, tejida con trozos y retales de habladurías y leyendas de la vecindad.

Summer was our best season: it was sleeping on the back screened porch in in cots, or trying to sleep in the tree-house; summer was everything good to eat; it was a thousand colours in a parched landscape ; but most of all, summer was Dill.

Looks like another scorcher today

I guess I felt attached to my weakness. My pain and suffering too. Summer light, the smell of a breeze, the sound of cicadas - if I like these things, why should I apologize?

And when you come back to Japan next summer, let's have that date or whatever you want to call it. We can go to the zoo or the botanical garden or the aquarium, and then we'll have the most politically correct and scrumptious omelets we can find.

That's good. I was worried. Of course, I do have a few things wrong with me, but those are strictly problems I keep inside. I'd hate to think they were obvious to anybody else. Especially at the swimming pool in the summer.

It had been a long time since I felt the fragrance of summer: the scent of the ocean, a distant train whistle, the touch of a girl's skin, the lemony perfume of her hair, the evening wind, faint glimmers of hope, summer dreams. But none of these were the way they once had been; they were all somehow off, as if copied with tracing paper that kept slipping out of place. -from Hear the Wind Sing

It was far too hot to think about complicated matters.

Buch Der Lieder: Lyrisches Intermezzo: 'Es liegt der heisse Sommer' There lies the heat of summer On your cheek's lovely art: There lies the cold of winter Within your little heart. That will change, beloved, The end not as the start! Winter on your cheek then, Summer in your heart.

By all these lovely tokens September days are here, With summer's best of weather And autumn's best of cheer.