I know I am but summer to your heart, and not the full four seasons of the year.
Tears of joy are like the summer rain drops pierced by sunbeams.
Spring passes and one remembers one's innocence.
Behold, my friends, the spring is come; the earth has gladly received the embraces of the sun, and we shall soon see the results of their love!
You can cut all the flowers but you cannot keep spring from coming.
It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold: when it is summer in the light, and winter in the shade.
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.
No spring nor summer beauty hath such grace as I have seen in one autumnal face.
Summer's lease hath all too short a date.
There is no season such delight can bring, as summer, autumn, winter and the spring.
In June as many as a dozen species may burst their buds on a single day. No man can heed all of these anniversaries; no man can ignore all of them.
A life without love is like a year without spring.
Long stormy spring-time, wet contentious April, winter chilling the lap of very May; but at length the season of summer does come.
There ought to be gardens for all months in the year, in which, severally, things of beauty may be then in season.
The Indian Summer of life should be a little sunny and a little sad, like the season, and infinite in wealth and depth of tone, but never hustled.
One swallow does not make a summer, but one skein of geese, cleaving the murk of March thaw, is the Spring.
What is one to say about June, the time of perfect young summer, the fulfillment of the promise of the earlier months, and with as yet no sign to remind one that its fresh young beauty will ever fade.
He sometimes felt that life was something that had already risen, and all of this, the Jackson Pollack of spring, summer, and fall, the vague refrigeration and tinfoiled sky of wintertime, was just a falling, really, originward, in a kind of correction, as if by spritual gravity, towards the wiser consciousness--or consciousnessless, maybe; could gravity trick itself like that?--of death. It was a kind of movement both very slow and very fast; there was both too much and not enough time to think.
From dawn to dusk, winter to spring, summer & autumn; the contrasts of nature refresh the mind & renew our sense of balance
Spring, summer, and fall fill us with hope; winter alone reminds us of the human condition.
The spring, summer, is quite a hectic time for people in their lives, but then it comes to autumn, and to winter, and you can't but help think back to the year that was, and then hopefully looking forward to the year that is approaching.
I own A LOT of shoes; I am not sure how many. My three favorite pairs would have to be a black pair of Christian Louboutins; they were the first pair I ever bought and still wear them! A pair of cream YSL pumps that are great for spring/summer and a pair of YSL wedges that I wear with everything.
There are four seasons in a year: Winter, Spring, Summer and Colour!
anyone lived in a pretty how town (with up so floating many bells down) spring summer autumn winter he sang his didn't he danced his did.
Los Angeles has no seasons, so it's kind of hard to keep track of time here. The lines between spring, summer, fall, and winter all blur like my vision. I get stuck on repeat for different measures of eternity.
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