48329. “I looked at sky this morning and realized summer is almost gone which really made me sad because it doesn’t seem as though its been here at all.” ― Beatrice Sparks, Go Ask Alice July 7, 2022
48328. “We read the pagan sacred books with profit and delight. With myth and fable we are ever charmed, and find a pleasure in the endless repetition of the beautiful, poetic, and absurd. We find, in all these records of the past, philosophies and dreams, and efforts stained with tears, of great and tender souls who tried to pierce the mystery of life and death, to answer the eternal questions of the Whence and Whither, and vainly sought to make, with bits of shattered glass, a mirror that would, in very truth, reflect the face and form of Nature’s perfect self. These myths were born of hopes, and fears, and tears, and smiles, and they were touched and colored by all there is of joy and grief between the rosy dawn of birth, and death’s sad night. They clothed even the stars with passion, and gave to gods the faults and frailties of the sons of men. In them, the winds and waves were music, and all the lakes, and streams, and springs,—the mountains, woods and perfumed dells were haunted by a thousand fairy forms. They thrilled the veins of Spring with tremulous desire; made tawny Summer’s billowed breast the throne and home of love; filled Autumns arms with sun-kissed grapes, and gathered sheaves; and pictured Winter as a weak old king who felt, like Lear upon his withered face, Cordelia’s tears. These myths, though false, are beautiful, and have for many ages and in countless ways, enriched the heart and kindled thought. But if the world were taught that all these things are true and all inspired of God, and that eternal punishment will be the lot of him who dares deny or doubt, the sweetest myth of all the Fable World would lose its beauty, and become a scorned and hateful thing to every brave and thoughtful man.” ― Robert G. Ingersoll, Some Mistakes of Moses July 7, 2022
48327. “Nothing comes as an accomplishment instantly. Success does not come overnight. Patience is the key! Grow up and be the tree; but remember it takes dry and wet seasons to become a fruit bearer, achiever and impact maker!” ― Israelmore Ayivor, The Great Hand Book of Quotes July 7, 2022
48326. “The sidewalks were haunted by dust ghosts all night as the furnace wind summoned them up, swung them about, and gentled them down in a warm spice on the lawns. Trees, shaken by the footsteps of late-night strol- lers, sifted avalanches of dust. From midnight on, it seemed a volcano beyond the town was showering red-hot ashes every- where, crusting slumberless night watchmen and irritable dogs. Each house was a yellow attic smoldering with spon- taneous combustion at three in the morning. Dawn, then, was a time where things changed element for element. Air ran like hot spring waters nowhere, with no sound. The lake was a quantity of steam very still and deep over valleys of fish and sand held baking under its serene vapors. Tar was poured licorice in the streets, red bricks were brass and gold, roof tops were paved with bronze. The high- tension wires were lightning held forever, blazing, a threat above the unslept houses. The cicadas sang louder and yet louder. The sun did not rise, it overflowed.” ― Ray Bradbury, Dandelion Wine July 7, 2022
48325. “End of the Summer It was end of the summer And my heart was broken but i was smiling, laughing, making jokes Like there was nothing bleeding inside As always.” ― Arzum Uzun July 7, 2022
48324. “However, although you might think this is the time of year to take some time off, you must never transgress one of the allotment rules: ‘Thou shan’t go on holiday in summer!” ― Mitchell Beazley July 7, 2022
48323. “Summer is a period of luxurious growth. To be in harmony with the atmosphere of summer, awaken early in the morning and reach to the sun for nourishment to flourish as the gardens do. Work, play, travel, be joyful, and grow into selfless service. The bounty of the outside world enters and enlivens us.” ― Paul Pitchford, Healing With Whole Foods: Asian Traditions and Modern Nutrition July 7, 2022
48322. “For historical currents do not irresistibly propel themselves and everyone in their path. No matter what their broader structural or ideological roots, they both carry along and are carried along by people, who are not merely passengers of history, but pilots as well.” ― Doug McAdam, Freedom Summer July 7, 2022
48321. “Summer has weeks left, but once the calendar displays the word “September,” you’d think it was Latin for “evacuate.” I pity them for missing the best weather and the most energized time of year…It’s an extremely impressive display of life at the apogee of summer, the year’s productivity mounded and piled past the angle of repose. It is a world lush with the living, a world that-despite the problems- still has what it takes to really produce.” ― Carl Safina, The View from Lazy Point: A Natural Year in an Unnatural World July 7, 2022
48320. “And who thought it was a good idea to rent bicycles to Italian adolescent language students? If hell did exist, which Jackson was sure it did, it would be governed by a committee of fifteen-year-old Italian boys on bikes.” ― Kate Atkinson, Case Histories July 7, 2022
48319. “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.” ― Erynn Mangum, Sketchy Behavior July 7, 2022
48318. “The morning heat had already soaked through the walls, rising up from the floor like a ghost of summers past.” ― Erik Tomblin, Riverside Blues July 7, 2022
48317. “The morning heat had already soaked through the walls, rising up from the floor like a ghost of summers past.” ― Erik Tomblin, Riverside Blues July 7, 2022
48316. “Life is not divided into semesters. You don’t get summers off and very few employers are interested in helping you find yourself. Do that on your own time.” ― Charles J. Sykes July 7, 2022
48315. “It was a heavenly summer, the summer in which France fell and the British Expeditionary Force was evacuated from Dunkirk. Leaves were never such an intense and iridescent green; sunlight glinted on flower-studded meadows as the Germans encircled the Maginot Line and overran not only France but Belgium and Holland. Birdsong filled the air in the lull between bursts of gunfire and accompanied the fleeing refugees who blocked the roads. It was as though the weather was preparing a glorious requiem for the death of Europe.” ― Eva Ibbotson, A Song for Summer July 7, 2022
48314. “The days draw out, the weather gets warmer, and it’s what we call summer, with a bitter laugh when we’ve said it.” ― Stan Barstow, A Kind of Loving July 7, 2022
48313. “Though it was mid-July, the morning was brisk, the sky a gray cotton of clouds, and Puget Sound a steely, cold blue. Most of Seattle grumbled, worn with winterish weather, impatient for the elusive summer sun. With umbrellas tucked away in the trunks of cars, sunglasses lost and separated from their original purchasers, the Pacific Northwest was a bastion of misty air and pale, complaining residents.” ― Courtney Kirchoff, Jaden Baker July 7, 2022
48312. “He knew he would always remember her, standing there with that expectant, forward-looking smile, enough to turn the future into summer.” ― Willa Cather, The Song of the Lark July 7, 2022
48311. “On days when it was too hot, they did not leave their room. The dazzling brilliance from outside plastered bars of light between the slats of the blinds. Not a sound in the village. Down below, on the sidewalk, no one. This spreading silence increased the tranquility of things. In the distance, the caulkers’ hammers tamped the hulls, and a heavy breeze brought the smell of tar.” ― Gustave Flaubert, A Simple Heart July 7, 2022
48310. “Take off that darn fur coat!…Or maybe you’d like to have us open all the windows.” ― F. Scott Fitzgerald, Gatsby Girls July 7, 2022
48309. “The day was so wonderful that Bonaventure thought it would taste like cherry pie if he took a bite of it.” ― Rita Leganski, The Silence of Bonaventure Arrow July 7, 2022
48308. “I felt drunk on Chase and high on summertime. Why did that sound just like a country song?” ― J.L. Weil, Saving Angel July 7, 2022
48307. “The smell of her hair lingered just out of reach of his memory and left him with a nervous hum resonating throughout his body like a child forced to sit in church while the sun was shining outside on a perfectly good summer’s day.” ― Erik Tomblin, The Space Between July 7, 2022
48306. “On Saturday afternoons I used to go for a walk with my mother. From the dusk of the hallway, we stepped at once into the brightness of the day. The passerby, bathed in melting gold, had their eyes half-closed against the glare, as if they were drenched with honey, upper lips were drawn back, exposing the teeth. Everyone in this golden day wore that grimace of heat–as if the sun had forced his worshippers to wear identical masks of gold. The old and the young, women and children, greeted each other with these masks, painted on their faces with thick gold paint; they smiled at each other’s pagan faces–the barbaric smiles of Bacchus.” ― Bruno Schulz, The Street of Crocodiles July 7, 2022
48305. “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 dead over us.” ― Elizabeth Spencer, Fire in the Morning July 7, 2022
48304. “Battery Park resonates with lust as the sun approaches its zenith. A primal impulse takes hold of the young couples strolling the gravel walkways, the newlyweds who have paused to admire DeModica’s bronze bull, the truant teens laid out on the cool grass. Maybe because all flesh tantalizes in the early summer, in the right light, or because, at this time of year, there is more flesh exposed, midriffs, cleavage, inner thighs, the park is suddenly transformed into a dynamo of panting and groping. This desire is not the tender affection of evening, the wistful intimacy of the twilight’s last gleam. It is raw, concupiscent hunger.” ― Jacob M. Appel, The Biology of Luck July 7, 2022
48303. “Her fragility makes her uncomfortable, but it has a familiarity, too, like the biting cold of winter that you only half forget during other seasons.” ― Meg Donohue, All the Summer Girls July 7, 2022
48302. “O! how shall summer’s honey breath hold out, / Against the wrackful siege of battering days?” ― William Shakespeare, Shakespeare’s Sonnets July 7, 2022
48301. “Here, Earth-born, over the lilt of the water, Lisping its music and bearing a burden of light, Bosoming day as a laughing and radiant daughter… Here we may whisper unheard, unafraid of the night. Walking alone…was it splendor, or what, we were bound with? Deep in the time when summer lets down her hair? Shadows we loved and the patterns they covered the ground with Tapestries, mystical, faint in the breathless air.” ― F. Scott Fitzgerald, This Side of Paradise July 7, 2022
48300. “August has passed, and yet summer continues by force to grow days. They sprout secretly between the chapters of the year, covertly included between its pages.” ― Jonathan Safran Foer, Tree of Codes July 7, 2022
48299. “The days were longer then (for time, like money, is measured by our needs), when summer afternoons were spacious, and the clock ticked slowly in the winter evenings.” ― George Eliot Middlemarch July 7, 2022
48298. “The castle grounds were gleaming in the sunlight as though freshly painted; the cloudless sky smiled at itself in the smoothly sparkling lake, the satin-green lawns rippled occasionally in a gentle breeze: June had arrived.” ― J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix July 7, 2022
48297. “In the morning light, I remembered how much I loved the sound of wind through the trees. I laid back and closed my eyes, and I was comforted by the sound of a million tiny leaves dancing on a summer morning.” ― Patrick Carman, The Tenth City July 7, 2022
48296. “Pain was as much a part of this life as the summer and the winter and the rain, and there was no greater asshole than the one who believed you can cure it.” ― Brian McGreevy, Hemlock Grove July 7, 2022
48295. “I wonder what it would be like to live in a world where it was always June.” ― L. M. Montgomery, Anne of the Island July 7, 2022
48293. “Winter was nothing but a season of snow; spring, allergies; and summer…It was the worst. That was swimsuit season.” ― Teresa Lo, Realities: a Collection of Short Stories July 7, 2022
48292. “Early Summer, loveliest season, The world is being colored in. While daylight lasts on the horizon, Sudden, throaty blackbirds sing. The dusty-colored cuckoo cuckoos. “Welcome, summer” is what he says. Winter’s unimaginable. The wood’s a wickerwork of boughs. Summer means the river’s shallow, Thirsty horses nose the pools. Long heather spreads out on bog pillows. White bog cotton droops in bloom. Swallows swerve and flicker up. Music starts behind the mountain. There’s moss and a lush growth underfoot. Spongy marshland glugs and stutters. Bog banks shine like ravens’ wings. The cuckoo keeps on calling welcome. The speckled fish jumps; and the strong Swift warrior is up and running. A little, jumpy, chirpy fellow Hits the highest note there is; The lark sings out his clear tidings. Summer, shimmer, perfect days.” ― Marie Heaney, The Names Upon the Harp: Irish Myth and Legend July 7, 2022
48291. “…TV was entertainment of the last resort. There was nothing on during the day in the summer other than game shows and soap operas. Besides, a TV-watching child was considered available for chores: take out the trash, clean your room, pick up that mess, fold those towels, mow the lawn… the list was endless. We all became adept at chore-avoidance. Staying out of sight was a reliable strategy. Drawing or painting was another: to my mother, making art trumped making beds. A third choir-avoidance technique was to read. A kid with his or her nose in a book is a kid who is not fighting, yelling, throwing, breaking things, bleeding, whining, or otherwise creating a Mom-size headache. Reading a book was almost like being invisible – a good thing for all concerned.” ― Pete Hautman, Libraries of Minnesota July 7, 2022
48289. “A broken heart, too much cold beer, ocean waves and a willing man were never a good combination, no matter what the country songs said.” ― Patti Callahan Henry, Driftwood Summer July 7, 2022
48288. “When you knock off work tonight, go looking for Toby, because, trust me, he will be looking for you.” ― C.J. Duggan, The Boys of Summer July 7, 2022
4827. “I love you, Tess McGee. I don’t do big funny or heartfelt speeches in front of people at birthday parties, but I’m excellent in private alcoves in beer gardens.” He paused. “Okay, that sounded really bad, what I mean is …” I kissed him into silence. I pressed my forehead against his with a sigh. “I love you, too, Toby. In fact, that’s what I was going to tell you before we walked into the beer garden. Right before the really bad singing started.” Toby chuckled. He let out a sigh of relief. “Ready to reminisce?” I whispered my final word before he closed the distance. “Always.” ― C.J. Duggan, The Boys of Summer July 7, 2022
48286. “Or maybe watching you enjoy a carefree summer while you fell in love was what kept me out of the hospital in the first place.” ― Nicholas Sparks, The Last Song July 7, 2022
48285. “Just be careful, hon,” Rosanna said. “Oh, are the plates hot?” I flinched back just before my hands made contact. Rosanna laughed. “No, but hot boys can burn you just as easily.” ― C.J. Duggan, The Boys of Summer July 7, 2022
48284. “He looked at me now. “Remember I said, ‘what if I didn’t want to fix your bike?'” I remembered. “Yes…” “I didn’t want to fix it, because I liked driving you places.” ― C.J. Duggan, The Boys of Summer July 7, 2022
48282. “That’s the thing. I’ve never met anyone like you, Tess. You think you’re a no one? You’re so wrong. So wrong. You stand in a room with all the Angelas, even the Ellies. None of them can compare to you. I remember when you started working at the Onslow, I couldn’t keep my eyes off you. You were so terrified. You weren’t full of yourself like other girls. Every time you walked into the bar, you were like a breath of fresh air. Even when Angela was a bitch to you, you rose above it. You made me see the difference in people. You’re not a nobody, Tess, you’re a somebody.” ― C.J. Duggan, The Boys of Summer July 7, 2022
48281. “So if I was to choose? Then I choose complicated,” I said, with a nod of finality. I met his eyes again in a silent challenge. “I choose you.” ― C.J. Duggan, The Boys of Summer July 7, 2022
48280. “I may have been buzzed last night, but I remember everything. I can’t promise you that I won’t want to drive you home, or kiss you like crazy again. Because I will. I do.” ― C.J. Duggan, The Boys of Summer July 7, 2022
48279. “He slid over to me and grabbed me closer to him. My smile fell from my face with the unexpectedness of it. His hands cupped my face, his lips hovering above mine. “You seriously want to know, Tess?” He closed the space and claimed my mouth with an urgent, hot, delving kiss. He smiled. “You are sexy, in your own goofball way, you’re sweet and beautiful and smart and funny and, although you kiss to the point where I feel like I want to go back for seconds, you’re my best friend, and that’s why I don’t want to tap that.” ― C.J. Duggan, The Boys of Summer July 7, 2022
48278. “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 rude?” “Le sorry?” “Le hurt.” Toby clutched his heart. “What can I do to soothe your shattered ego?” Toby drummed his chin thoughtfully, pacing around me. He stopped just near enough to whisper in my ear. “Le kiss?” ― C.J. Duggan, The Boys of Summer July 7, 2022
48277. “If there is one thing worse than self-pity, it was other people’s pity.” ― C.J. Duggan, The Boys of Summer July 7, 2022
48276.“Do you want some words of advice, Tess?” I glanced at Adam’s profile as he sipped. “Don’t give your heart away too easily.” He turned to me. “Make him earn it.” ― C.J. Duggan, The Boys of Summer July 7, 2022
48275. “Summer ends, and Autumn comes, and he who would have it otherwise would have high tide always and a full moon every night.” ― Hal Borland July 7, 2022
48274. “So, when we finally reach that final stretch, may the promises made on our ever-hopeful lips be kept, and the summers we wish for be granted to us.” ― Moses Yuriyvich Mikheyev, This Time Next Summer July 6, 2022
48273. “When I think back those tides were like women with different scents and different demands. Low tide was fruity and cool. It took a while to get to her edge. Low tide held back. The onus was on you to go on over to her. High tide smelled of heat that built up. It was Chanel No. 5 to her drugstore opposite. She went after you in no uncertain terms.” ― Georgia Scott, American Girl: Memories That Made Me July 6, 2022
48272. “This morning, the sun endures past dawn. I realise that it is August: the summer’s last stand.” ― Sara Baume, A Line Made by Walking July 4, 2022
48271. “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 tree house; summer was everything good to eat; it was a thousand colors in a parched landscape; but most of all, summer was Dill.” ― Harper Lee, To Kill a Mockingbird July 4, 2022
48270. “One minute it was Ohio winter, with doors closed, windows locked, the panes blind with frost, icicles fringing every roof, children skiing on slopes, housewives lumbering like great black bears in their furs along the icy streets. And then a long wave of warmth crossed the small town. A flooding sea of hot air; it seemed as if someone had left a bakery door open. The heat pulsed among the cottages and bushes and children. The icicles dropped, shattering, to melt. The doors flew open. The windows flew up. The children worked off their wool clothes. The housewives shed their bear disguises. The snow dissolved and showed last summer’s ancient green lawns. Rocket summer. The words passed among the people in the open, airing houses. Rocket summer. The warm desert air changing the frost patterns on the windows, erasing the art work. The skis and sleds suddenly useless. The snow, falling from the cold sky upon the town, turned to a hot rain before it touched the ground. Rocket summer. People leaned from their dripping porches and watched the reddening sky. The rocket lay on the launching field, blowing out pink clouds of fire and oven heat. The rocket stood in the cold winter morning, making summer with every breath of its mighty exhausts. The rocket made climates, and summer lay for a brief moment upon the land….” ― Ray Bradbury, The Martian Chronicles July 4, 2022
48268. “Just to love! She did not ask to be loved. It was rapture enough just to sit there beside him in silence, alone in the summer night in the white splendor of moonshine, with the wind blowing down on them out of the pine woods.” ― Lucy Maud Montgomery, The Blue Castle July 4, 2022
48267. “Sweet, sweet burn of sun and summer wind, and you my friend, my new fun thing, my summer fling.” ― k.d. lang July 4, 2022
48266. “I could taste the salt on her lips, each kiss like a summer wave breaking on an empty beach.” ― Michael Faudet July 4, 2022
48265. “After all, we were young. We were fourteen and fifteen, scornful of childhood, remote from the world of stern and ludicrous adults. We were bored, we were restless, we longed to be seized by any whim or passion and follow it to the farthest reaches of our natures. We wanted to live – to die – to burst into flame – to be transformed into angels or explosions. Only the mundane offended us, as if we secretly feared it was our destiny . By late afternoon our muscles ached, our eyelids grew heavy with obscure desires. And so we dreamed and did nothing, for what was there to do, played ping-pong and went to the beach, loafed in backyards, slept late into the morning – and always we craved adventures so extreme we could never imagine them. In the long dusks of summer we walked the suburban streets through scents of maple and cut grass, waiting for something to happen.” ― Steven Millhauser, Dangerous Laughter July 4, 2022
48264. “It is easy to forget now, how effervescent and free we all felt that summer.” ― Anna Godbersen, Bright Young Things July 4, 2022
48263. “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 life, so they’re one step removed from it. And then in September it all gets normal again.” ― Peter Cameron, Someday This Pain Will Be Useful to You July 4, 2022
48262. “The first week of August hangs at the very top of the 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. There is no thunder, no relieving rain. These are strange and breathless days, the dog days, when people are led to do things they are sure to be sorry for after.” ― Natalie Babbitt, Tuck Everlasting July 4, 2022
48261. “Dandelion wine. The words were summer on the tongue. The wine was summer caught and stoppered…sealed away for opening on a January day with snow falling fast and the sun unseen for weeks…” ― Ray Bradbury July 4, 2022
48260. “I have only to break into the tightness of a strawberry, and I see summer – its dust and lowering skies.” ― Toni Morrison, The Bluest Eye July 4, 2022
48259. “…and so many colors I will have seen… the menacing greys and pine greens the soft pink and purples of spring and summer blue and so many others without you.” ― Sanober Khan, A touch, a tear, a tempest July 4, 2022
48258. “There was nothing like a Saturday – unless it was the Saturday leading up to the last week of school and into summer vacation. That of course was all the Saturdays of your life rolled into one big shiny ball.” ― Nora Roberts, Rising Tides July 4, 2022
48257. “some winters will never melt some summers will never freeze and some things will only … live in poems.” ― Sanober Khan, Turquoise Silence July 4, 2022
48256. “A breeze, a forgotten summer, a smile, all can fit into a storefront window.” ― Dejan Stojanovic, The Sun Watches the Sun July 4, 2022
48255. “The library in summer is the most wonderful thing because there you get books on any subject and read them each for only as long as they hold your interest, abandoning any that don’t, halfway or a quarter of the way through if you like, and store up all that knowledge in the happy corners of your mind for your own self and not to show off how much you know or spit it back at your teacher on a test paper.” ― Polly Horvath, My One Hundred Adventures July 4, 2022
48254. “The crickets felt it was their duty to warn everybody that summertime cannot last for ever. Even on the most beautiful days in the whole year – the days when summer is changing into autumn – the crickets spread the rumour of sadness and change.” ― E.B. White, Charlotte’s Web July 4, 2022
48253. “Maycomb was a tired old town, even in 1932 when I first knew it. Somehow, it was hotter then. 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 frosting from sweating and sweet talcum. The day was twenty-four hours long, but it seemed longer. There’s no hurry, for there’s nowhere to go and nothing to buy…and no money to buy it with.” ― Harper Lee, To Kill a Mockingbird July 4, 2022
48252. “Summer bachelors like summer breezes, are never as cool as they pretend to be.” ― Nora Ephron July 4, 2022
48251. “December’s wintery breath is already clouding the pond, frosting the pane, obscuring summer’s memory…” ― John Geddes A Familiar Rain July 4, 2022
48250. “Ô, Wanderess, Wanderess When did you feel your most euphoric kiss? Was I the source of your greatest bliss?” ― Roman Payne July 4, 2022
48249. “I was surrounded by friends, my work was immense, and pleasures were abundant. Life, now, was unfolding before me, constantly and visibly, like the flowers of summer that drop fanlike petals on eternal soil. Overall, I was happiest to be alone; for it was then I was most aware of what I possessed. Free to look out over the rooftops of the city. Happy to be alone in the company of friends, the company of lovers and strangers. Everything, I decided, in this life, was pure pleasure.” ― Roman Payne, Rooftop Soliloquy July 4, 2022
48248. “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.” ― F. Scott Fitzgerald, This Side of Paradise July 4, 2022
48247. “Au milieu de l’hiver, j’apprenais enfin qu’il y avait en moi un été invincible.” ― Albert Camus, Noces / L’été July 4, 2022
48246. “A song she heard Of cold that gathers Like winter’s tongue Among the shadows It rose like blackness In the sky That on volcano’s Vomit rise A Stone of ruin From burn to chill Like black moonrise Her voice fell still…” ― Robert Fanney July 4, 2022
48243. “[T]hat old September feeling, left over from school days, of summer passing, vacation nearly done, obligations gathering, books and football in the air … Another fall, another turned page: there was something of jubilee in that annual autumnal beginning, as if last year’s mistakes had been wiped clean by summer.” ― Wallace Stegner, Angle of Repose July 4, 2022
48242. “One benefit of Summer was that each day we had more light to read by.” ― Jeannette Walls, The Glass Castle July 4, 2022
48241. “Summer was here again. Summer, summer, summer. I loved and hated summers. Summers had a logic all their own and they always brought something out in me. Summer was supposed to be about freedom and youth and no school and possibilities and adventure and exploration. Summer was a book of hope. That’s why I loved and hated summers. Because they made me want to believe.” ― Benjamin Alire Sáenz, Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe July 4, 2022
48240. “If it could only be like this always – always summer, always alone, the fruit always ripe and Aloysius in a good temper…” ― Evelyn Waugh, Brideshead Revisited July 4, 2022
48239. “Even so, there were times I saw freshness and beauty. I could smell the air, and I really loved rock ‘n’ roll. Tears were warm, and girls were beautiful, like dreams. I liked movie theaters, the darkness and intimacy, and I liked the deep, sad summer nights.” ― Haruki Murakami, Dance Dance Dance July 4, 2022
48238. “Come with me,’ Mom says. To the library. Books and summertime go together.” ― Lisa Schroeder, I Heart You, You Haunt Me July 4, 2022
48237. “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.” ― Natalie Babbitt, Tuck Everlasting July 4, 2022
48236. “Why is summer mist romantic and autumn mist just sad?” ― Dodie Smith, I Capture the Castle July 4, 2022
48235. “August rain: the best of the summer gone, and the new fall not yet born. The odd uneven time.” ― Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath July 4, 2022
48234. “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 July 4, 2022
48233. “The island is ours. Here, in some way, we are young forever.” ― E. Lockhart, We Were Liars July 4, 2022
48231. “it’s a smile, it’s a kiss, it’s a sip of wine … it’s summertime!” ― Kenny Chesney July 4, 2022
48230. “A man says a lot of things in summer he doesn’t mean in winter.” ― Patricia Briggs, Dragon Blood July 4, 2022