Pride must be a summer thing, because it “comes before the fall.

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.

The summer,’ Randy explained. ‘I’m going to appreciate it. I’m going to walk in the woods noticing everything, and ride my bike on all the roads I never explored. I’m going to fill a pillow...

One benefit of Summer was that each day we had more light to read by.

But here I am in July, and why am I thinking about Christmas pudding? Probably because we always pine for what we do not have. The winter seems cozy and romantic in the hell of...

He sighed, then said, “So basically, you’re stalking her.””I am NOT stalking her.” I insisted.”That’s where you come in. If I followed her by myself, someone who did not understand the situation and did not...

The price of imported oil in the US doubled between summer 2003 and summer 2005, reducing consumers’ purchasing power by more than 1 per cent of gross domestic product.

Since then I have held many jobs at museums in Colorado and Wyoming. I have also taught summer courses at the University of Colorado.

The summer in youcalms the winter in me.

The light of an early Summer afternoon as it slips toward dusk has so many good things wrapped up in it..

Make him earn it.

I sat down at the table, took a deep breath, smiled at Detective Masterson, and nodded at Deputy Slalom. It was going to be a great summer. Normal.

It’s December in Florida, and there are still a few leaves clinging on the branches for dear summer.

Love is like a beautiful summer day in the middle of winter. I’ve got shorts on, so it seems like a good time to invade Russia.

Weeping willows remind me of summer. And sadness. I wonder if tissues are made out of their trunks.

Some of the best memories are made in flip flops.

Prove to me that you deserved it.

Eso es algo que tu no logras entender, tu eres un simple chico común que viene de una familia un poco privilegiada, y yo soy Katherine Heddleson, la reina, a mí nadie me utiliza, yo...

Ô, Sunlight! The most precious gold to be found on Earth.

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

Spring passes and one remembers one’s innocence.Summer passes and one remembers one’s exuberance.Autumn passes and one remembers one’s reverence.Winter passes and one remembers one’s perseverance.

Summertime is always the best of what might be.

I like you, Tess.

. . .and he has nevergiven up his conviction that if you just try all the doors one of them is bound to be the Door intoSummer. You know, I think he is right.

There have been times I have thought some dreams should never be dreamt, but I would hate a world where that was true.

Summer will end soon enough, and childhood as well.

We thread our way through a moving forest of ice-cream cones and crimson thighs.

Rejoice as summer should…chase away sorrows by living.

Your confidence in me is heartwarming.Makes me want to return all the money I stole from the little old ladies and kick the heroin.

…summer softens lines that winter cruelly shows…

I propose a toast to mirth; be merry! Let us complete our course of law by folly and eating! Indigestion and the digest. let Justinian be the male, and Feasting, the female! Joy the depths!...

some winterswill never meltsome summerswe’ll never freezeand some things will only… live in poems.

Imagine a delicious glass of summer iced tea.Take a long cool sip. Listen to the ice crackle and clink.Is the glass part full or part empty?Take another sip.And now?

Now the windows, blinded by the glare of the empty square, had fallen asleep. The balconies declared their emptiness to heaven; the open doorways smelt of coolness and wine.

Oh, the summer night / HAS A SMILE OF LIGHT / And she sits on a sapphire throne.

Early summer days are a jubilee time for birds. In the fields, around the house, in the barn, in the woods, in the swamp – everywhere love and songs and nests and eggs.

… on the lawn one late summer day, her pale hair tangled because she’d cry if anyone tried to brush it, spinning around and around until she got so dizzy she fell in a pile...

Life and summer are fleeting,’ sang the bird. ‘Snow and dark, and the winter comes. Nothing remains the same.

Summer was over in twenty minutes that day. Finished. At four o’clock in the afternoon the roses were quiet on their stems, full-blown, fulfilled; the water in the pool was warm; the leaves on the...

This summer temperatures will soar high and may kill many birds due to lack of water. PLEASE KEEP A BOWL OF WATER IN YOUR BALCONY, WINDOW OR IN OPEN PLACES and save their lives, instead...

Sweet, sweet burn of sun and summer wind, and you my friend, my new fun thing, my summer fling.

Stubble or what?” Eyes still closed he chuckled. “I’m not shaving until our parents let us date again.” He kissed my cheek. “What if it takes… a… while?” I asked struggling to talk. He’d made...

Do you remember the Shire, Mr. Frodo? It’ll be spring soon. And the orchards will be in blossom. And the birds will be nesting in the hazel thicket. And they’ll be sowing the summer barley...

Press close, bare-bosomed Night! Press close, magnetic, nourishing Night!Night of south winds! Night of the large, few stars!Still, nodding Night! Mad, naked, Summer Night!

New York is strange in the summer. Life goes on as usual but it’s not, it’s like everyone is just pretending, as if everyone has been cast as the star in a movie about their...

The rhythm of a New York summer is passionate and powerful, evoking a rapid calypso, with July being the musical climax.

Can we get out of here?””Your chariot awaits.””In the form of a blue Ford ute?” I curved my brow.”But of course,” he said in an over-the-top French accent.”Sacre blur, bad accent alert!””Wow,” he said, “Le...

August in Mississippi is different from July. As to heat, it is not a question of degree but of kind. July heat is furious, but in August the heat has killed even itself and lies...

Every summer there are a number of nights, not many, but a number, when everything is perfect. The light, the warmth, the smells, the mist, the birdsong – the moths. Who can sleep? Who wants...

A tree has leaves like man has hair. Some men go winter in the summer, and other men, like me, like skiing on skin.