Quotes About Summer

Whenever summer rolls around I begin to realize that I'm a complete and utter book snob. In relation to reading, I have absolutely no guilty pleasures at all. No graphic novels. No murder mysteries. My summer read is really no different from my winter read. I know many bookshops and magazines would have me believe that our summer forays are different, but literature is literature, and unfortunately snobbery is snobbery.

We always spend the summer together. My wife and kids, we always go back to Massachusetts and spend the summer there near where my wife and I both grew up. I wasn't willing to sacrifice the summer to go elsewhere.

I'm definitely hesitant wearing shorts during the summer. Like for a pale person, you know, summer - everyone in the world is so excited for summer, but pale people, we're just like, oh no.

Summer is the worst time of all to be alone. The earth is warm and lovely, free to go about in; and always somewhere in the distance there is a place where two people might be happy if only they were together. It is in the spring that one dreams of such places; one thinks of the summer which is coming, and the heart dreams of its friend.

When I remember that dizzy summer, that dull, stupid, lovely, dire summer, it seems that in those days I ate my lunches, smelled another's skin, noticed a shade of yellow, even simply sat, with greater lust and hopefulness - and that I lusted with greater faith, hoped with greater abandon. The people I loved were celebrities, surrounded by rumor and fanfare; the places I sat with them, movie lots and monuments. No doubt all of this is not true remembrance but the ruinous work of nostalgia, which obliterates the past, and no doubt, as usual, I have exaggerated everything.

I was lucky enough not to face any required summer reading lists until I went to college. So I still think of summer as the best time to read for fun.

Serene was a word you could put to Brooklyn New York. Especially in the summer of 1912. Somber as a word was better. But it did not apply to Williamsburg Brooklyn. Prairie was lovely and Shenandoah had a beautiful sound but you couldn't fit those words into Brooklyn. Serene was the only word for it especially on a Saturday afternoon in summer.

This summer is going to be a different summer for a lot of people. Everyone is going to take care of their own business and everyone is going to do what's best for them, including me.

We can't possibly have a summer love. So many people have tried that the name's become proverbial. Summer is only the unfulfilled promise of spring, a charlatan in place of the warm balmy nights I dream of in April. It's a sad season of life without growth...It has no day.

For me, the summer will be pure gray - mother-of-pearl gray, very pale gray. To me, this is the big statement for summer. Then we have light blue, light turquoise, lots of pink.

I have been to Turkey almost every summer holiday of my life and pretty much only on summer holidays, which makes me a very shallow Turk indeed.

Any rainy summer morning, of course, has the seeds of gloomy alienation sown in. But a rainy summer morning far from home - when your personal clouds don't move but hang - can easily produce the feeling of the world as seen from the grave. This I know.

I'm a big fan of London in the summertime. English people are dependent on weather to change our attitudes, and, provided it's a decent summer, everyone's spirits are uplifted and the whole place is in bloom. It's a magical transformation. London in the summer, going to see bands play outside, watching football.

Spring, if it lingers more than a week beyond its span, starts to hunger for summer to end the days of perpetual promise. Summer in its turn soon begins to sweat for something to quench its heat, and the mellowest of autumns will tire of gentility at last, and ache for a quick sharp frost to kill its fruitfulness. Even winter — the hardest season, the most implacable — dreams, as February creeps on, of the flame that will presently melt it away. Everything tires with time, and starts to seek some opposition, to save it from itself.

We know that in September, we will wander through the warm winds of summer's wreckage. We will welcome summer's ghost.

I believe that summer is our time, a time for the people, and that no politician should be allowed to speak to us during the summer. They can start talking again after Labor Day.

I'm stoned on my music. I'm intoxicated by my joyful calendar between the tours, and the hunting, and the charity work, and the family time, and just my lifestyle living on a ranch in Texas and back when I lived on my ranch in Michigan. It's the epitome of individual independence, self-sufficiency, hands-on, earthly celebration and we tour every summer like complete animals.

Conceive a jelly-fish such as sails in our summer seas, bell-shaped and of enormous size - far larger, I should judge, than the dome of St. Paul's. It was of a light pink colour veined with a delicate green, but the whole huge fabric so tenuous that it was but a fairy outline against the dark blue sky. It pulsated with a delicate and regular rhythm. From it there depended two long drooping, green tentacles, which swayed slowly backwards and forwards. This gorgeous vision passed gently with noiseless dignity over my head, as light and fragile as a soap-bubble, and drifted upon its stately way.

Youth, art, love, dreams, true-heartedness - why must they go out of the summer world into darkness?

I can tell that sometimes I live a very good moment and I'm very joy- ful and optimistic, so I can see more bright colors in my collection. [laughs] Other times I feel so depressed and so sad and I see a lot of darkness. So it really depends. Of course, there are certain rules you have to operate by in terms of markets, and for summer and for winter. But at the end of the day, you are a person and you put a lot of yourself into the clothes. You know, I can never decide what I am going to wear on the day of the show. It depends a lot on which mood I wake up in that day, so I never know.

It was just a terribly stressful situation and dreary. A few months after [Eva Braun] suicide attempt, [Adolf] Hitler moved us both to the apartment, it was in the summer.

Whether the type of old sea captain that I have portrayed in my stories is gone forever, is a question. Certainly each summer I find that the ranks have perceptibly thinned. The longshore captain is still there, many of the men who are not any older than myself, but their viewpoint is not that of a man who sailed his square rigged ship out one morning with China as his destination.

I'll remember the view out this window [from Oval Cabinet], because this is where we had our - the playground that we put in when Malia and Sasha came in. Being able every once in awhile to look out the window and see your daughters during the summer, swinging on that swing set, that made the presidency a little bit sweeter.

There was only so much space between us, not even a real distance if measured in miles or feet or even inches, all the things that told you how far you'd come or had left to go. But it was a big space, if only for me. And as I moved forward to him covering it, he waited there on the other side. It was only the last little bit I has to go, but in the end, I knew it would be all I would truly remember. So as I kissed him, bringing this summer and everything else full circle, I let myself fall, and was not scared of the ground I knew would rise up to meet me.

We all get the same amount of ice. The rich get it in the summer. The poor get it in the winter.

Let now the chimneys blaze And cups o’erflow with wine... The summer hath his joys, And winter his delights; Though love and all his pleasures are but toys, They shorten tedious nights.

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

Our children were mostly brought up and educated in the Churchill suburb east of Pittsburgh. Each summer, we took them back to England for an extended period.

I dwell in a lonely house I know That vanished many a summer ago.

I like acting for now. But after seeing Apollo 13, what I really want to do is to be an astronaut. I'm dying to go to a space camp next summer!

(Bill) Terry, you can ask for more money in the winter and do less in the summer than any ballplayer I know.

Intel is down but not out. We have a very nervous market and it's the dog days of summer, ... We are short-term overbought so we're giving some of it back with the excuse being Intel.

If any of you have ever lived down south of the Mason-Dixon line, you know that late September still means summer heat.

When Spring unlocks the flowers To paint the laughing soil; When summer's balmy breezes Refresh the mower's toil; When winter holds in frosty chains The fallow and the flood; In God the earth rejoices still, And owns her Maker good.

There is no part of the country where in the summer you cannot get a sufficient supply of the best specimens. Teach your children to bring them in for themselves. Take your text from the brooks, not from the booksellers.

Think about how you are going to feel if you eat the healthy food, how you are going to look in a bikini next summer or in skinny jeans. Think about feeling strong, healthy, confident. You'll be more confident in the bedroom, more confident at the office.

What is Music? How do you define it? Music is a calm moonlit night, the rustle of leaves in Summer. Music is the far off peal of bells at dusk! Music comes straight from the heart and talks only to the heart: it is Love! Music is the Sister of Poetry and her Mother is sorrow!

They held hands and knew that only the coffin would lie in the earth; the bubbly laughter and the press of fingers in the palm would stay aboveground forever. At first, as they stood there, their hands were clenched together. They relaxed slowly until during the walk back home their fingers were laced in as gentle a clasp as that of any two young girlfriends trotting up the road on a summer day wondering what happened to butterflies in the winter.

I talked about the summer of 1985, when I worked at an amusement park on Long Island, the kind of place where someone would pull a knife on you if they wanted a better prize than you were giving them. You found a lot of used needles beside the cotton-candy cart at the end of the night. It was a pretty white-trash, scary place. It was one in a series of terrible jobs I've had, coming from not much money and having no particularly resourceful skills. And at one point one of my friends, a writer on the show, Jenny Konner, said, "You should write about that."

I'd finished the first two [books] and they were going to to be published, and [editor] said, "We need you to write a summary that will drive people to these books." And it took forever. I couldn't think of a thing to say. I looked at the back of other children's books that were full of giddy praise and corny rhetorical questions, you know, "Will she have a better time at summer camp than she thinks?" "How will she escape from the troll's dungeon?" All these terrible, terrible summaries of books, and I just couldn't.

June is the gateway to summer.

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?

After a disappointing summer, Humpty Dumpty has a great fall.

Solitary converse with nature; for thence are ejaculated sweet and dreadful words never uttered in libraries. Ah! the spring days, the summer dawns, and October woods!

Only in Heaven will everything be as beautiful as spring, as pleasant as autumn, and as full of love as summer.

And tar is washing up onto the beaches - big globs of tar. And people are saying, 'Is that going to ruin our summer at the beach?' No, of course not. You take the big blobs of tar and you use them to hold down your blanket.

Remember: life is a rhythm between day and night, summer and winter. It is a continuous rhythm. Never stop anywhere! Be moving! And the bigger the swing, the deeper your experience will be.

I went to England when I was 13-years=old and then I went again when I was 14. When I went for the second time I felt like the first summer I was there it was a waste because I didn't exist yet.