“I dig old books.”
Quotations about Summer
I walk without flinching through the burning cathedral of the summer. My bank of wild grass is majestic and full of music. It is a fire that solitude presses against my lips. ~Violette Leduc, Mad in Pursuit
Summer has set in with its usual severity. ~Samuel Taylor Coleridge
People don’t notice whether it’s winter or summer when they’re happy. ~Anton Chekhov
A life without love is like a year without summer. ~Swedish Proverb
Press close, bare-bosomed Night! Press close, magnetic,
Night of south winds! Night of the large, few stars!
Still, nodding Night! Mad, naked, Summer Night!
What good is the warmth of summer, without the cold of winter to give it sweetness. ~John Steinbeck
Being a child at home alone in the summer is a high-risk occupation. If you call your mother at work thirteen times an hour, she can hurt you. ~Erma Bombeck
The coldest winter I ever spent was a summer in San Francisco. ~Author unknown, commonly misattributed to Mark Twain
Do what we can, summer will have its flies. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson
And so with the sunshine and the great bursts of leaves growing on the trees, just as things grow in fast movies, I had that familiar conviction that life was beginning over again with the summer. ~F. Scott Fitzgerald
One benefit of summer was that each day we had more light to read by. ~Jeannette Walls, The Glass Castle
Green was the silence, wet was the light,
the month of June trembled like a butterfly....
Heat, ma’am! it was so dreadful here, that I found there was nothing left for it but to take off my flesh and sit in my bones. ~Sydney Smith, Lady Holland’s Memoir
Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass under the trees on a summer’s day, listening to the murmur of water, or watching the clouds float across the blue sky, is by no means waste of time. ~John Lubbock, "Recreation," The Use of Life, 1894
Each fairy breath of summer, as it blows with loveliness, inspires the blushing rose. ~Author Unknown
There is no price set on the lavish summer,
And June may be had by the poorest comer.
~James Russell Lowell, The Vision of Sir Launfal
It was June, and the world smelled of roses. The sunshine was like powdered gold over the grassy hillside. ~Maud Hart Lovelace, Betsy-Tacy and Tib, 1941
Summer afternoon—summer afternoon; to me those have always been the two most beautiful words in the English language. ~Henry James
The luxury of all summer's sweet sensation is to be found when one lies at length in the warm, fragrant grass, soaked with sunshine, aware of regions of blossoming clover and of a high heaven filled with the hum of innumerous bees. ~Harriet E. Prescott, The Atlantic Monthly, August 1865
[W]oods are filled with the music of birds, and all nature is laughing under the glorious influence of Summer. ~Charles Lanman, "The Dying Year," 1840
Hey! It’s summer! Be free and happy and danceful and uninhibited and now-y! ~Terri Guillemets
O for a summer noon, when light and breeze
Sport on the grass, like ripples o’er a lake
Alive with freshness! when the full round Sun,
With the Creator’s smile upon his face,
Walks like a prince of glory through the path
Of Heaven!—Thou vast, and ever-glorious sky,
Mantling the earth with thy majestic robe...
~Robert Montgomery, "Beautiful Influences," A Universal Prayer; Death; A Vision of Heaven; and A Vision of Hell; &c. &c., 1829
I am Summer, come to lure you away from your computer... come dance on my fresh grass, dig your toes into my beaches. ~Oriana Green, @NatureSpirits
Love is to the heart what the summer is to the farmer’s year — it brings to harvest all the loveliest flowers of the soul. ~Author Unknown
Then followed that beautiful season... Summer....
Filled was the air with a dreamy and magical light; and the landscape
Lay as if new created in all the freshness of childhood.
~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Now the heart is so full that a drop overfills it,
We are happy now because God so wills it;
No matter how barren the past may have been,
’T is enough for us now that the leaves are green;
We sit in the warm shade and feel right well
How the sap creeps up and the blossoms swell...
The breeze comes whispering in our ear,
That dandelions are blossoming near...
Every thing is upward striving;
’T is as easy now for the heart to be true
As for grass to be green or skies to be blue, —
’T is the natural way of living...
~James Russell Lowell, The Vision of Sir Launfal
I drifted into a summer-nap under the hot shade of July, serenaded by a cicadae lullaby, to drowsy-warm dreams of distant thunder. ~Terri Guillemets
In our methodical American life, we still recognize some magic in summer. Most persons at least resign themselves to being decently happy in June. They accept June. They compliment its weather. They complain of the earlier months as cold, and so spend them in the city; and they complain of the later months as hot, and so refrigerate themselves on some barren sea-coast. God offers us yearly a necklace of twelve pearls; most men choose the fairest, label it June, and cast the rest away. ~Thomas Wentworth Higginson, "April Days," 1861 [This attribution isn't perfectly accurate. The piece was published in 1861 in The Atlantic Monthly, but the wording here is from Higginson's collected Procession of the Flowers and Kindred Papers from 1897. In the original version, "American" is "New England" as well as a couple of other minor changes in wording.
At last [Spring] comes where the Summer stands
Girt around with his fiery bands;
Who steppeth forth as he sees her come,
And opens his arms for a welcome home;
Then towards her, coming, he steps apace,
And folds her into his close embrace.
~J.J. Britton (1832–1913), "Epithalamium"
I almost wish we were butterflies and liv’d but three summer days — three such days with you I could fill with more delight than fifty common years could ever contain. ~John Keats
Summer is the time when one sheds one’s tensions with one’s clothes, and the right kind of day is jeweled balm for the battered spirit. A few of those days and you can become drunk with the belief that all’s right with the world. ~Ada Louise Huxtable
The sun tires of summer and sighs itself into autumn. ~Terri Guillemets
Summer-induced stupidity. That was the diagnosis, I decided as I made my way up the dirt path in the pouring rain. ~Aimee Friedman, Sea Change
Spring flew swiftly by, and summer came; and if the village had been beautiful at first, it was now in the full glow and luxuriance of its richness. The great trees, which had looked shrunken and bare in the earlier months, had now burst into strong life and health; and stretching forth their green arms over the thirsty ground, converted open and naked spots into choice nooks, where was a deep and pleasant shade from which to look upon the wide prospect, steeped in sunshine, which lay stretched out beyond. The earth had donned her mantle of brightest green; and shed her richest perfumes abroad. It was the prime and vigour of the year; all things were glad and flourishing. ~Charles Dickens, Oliver Twist
If it could only be like this always — always summer, always alone, the fruit always ripe... ~Evelyn Waugh
A man says a lot of things in summer he doesn’t mean in winter. ~Patricia Briggs
June, thy beauty is a snare,
To waste time in visions rare;
Of vain dreaming, oh, beware!
~Caroline May, 1887
The first week of August hangs at the very top of summer, the top of the live-long year, like the highest seat of a Ferris wheel when it pauses in its turning. The weeks that come before are only a climb from balmy spring, and those that follow a drop to the chill of autumn, but the first week of August is motionless, and hot. It is curiously silent, too, with blank white dawns and glaring noons, and sunsets smeared with too much color. Often at night there is lightning, but it quivers all alone. ~Natalie Babbitt, Tuck Everlasting
This was one of those perfect New England days in late summer where the spirit of autumn takes a first stealing flight, like a spy, through the ripening country-side, and, with feigned sympathy for those who droop with August heat, puts her cool cloak of bracing air about leaf and flower and human shoulders. ~Sarah Orne Jewett
The end-of-summer winds make people restless. ~Sebastian Faulks, Engleby
There is something deep within us that sobs at endings. Why, God, does everything have to end? Why does all nature grow old? Why do spring and summer have to go? ~ Joe Wheeler