Summer Quotes - Page 28

• One can always tell it's summer when one sees school teachers hanging about the streets idly, looking like cannibals during a shortage of missionaries.

  Robertson Davies

  Teacher, School, Streets

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• Sometimes a lengthened period of prosperity melts away in a moment; just as the heat of summer flies before a day of tempest.

  Luc de Clapiers

  Heat, Sometimes, Prosperity

  Jean de La Bruyère, Luc de Clapiers marquis de Vauvenargues (1903). “La Bruyère and Vauvenargues: Selections from the Characters, Reflexions and Maxims”

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• I have an enormous family because I'm from Montreal and my family's Catholic, so my dad has eight siblings and they all have kids and we all grew up in the same property on weekends and summers.

  Jessica Pare

  Dad, Sibling, Kids

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• In summer, intolerable closeness; in winter, unendurable cold. All the floors were rotten. Filth on the floors an inch thick; one could slip and fall.

  Fyodor Dostoevsky

  Fall, Winter, Rotten

  Fyodor Dostoevsky (2014). “Crime and Punishment”, p.560, Penguin UK

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• 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

  Weather, Laughing, Bitter

  Stan Barstow (1981). “A Kind of Loving: The Vic Brown Trilogy”, Michael Joseph

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• 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

  Flower, Air, Europe

  "A Song for Summer".

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• 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

  August, Years, Pages

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• How often had that hydrant even been opened? Did you jet water through a car window, what, twice at best? Summer burned just a few afternoons long, in the end. As for flying, Dose never even glanced at the sky. Flying was a summer within a summer, a whim. So why think of it at all?

  Jonathan Lethem

  Thinking, Sky, Long

  Jonathan Lethem (2003). “The Fortress of Solitude”, Large Print Press

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• Peacefully
  The quiet stars came out, one after one;
  The holy twilight fell upon the sea,
  The summer day was done.

  Celia Thaxter

  Stars, Twilight, June

  Celia Thaxter (1872). “Poems”, p.51

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• Long about knee-deep in June,
  'Bout the time strewberries melts
  On the vine.

  James Whitcomb Riley

  June, Long, Vines

  James Whitcomb Riley, “Knee-Deep In June”

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• In these divine pleasures permitted to me of walks in the June night under moon and stars, I can put my life as a fact before me and stand aloof from its honor and shame.

  Ralph Waldo Emerson

  Stars, Moon, Night

  Ralph Waldo Emerson, Walt McLaughlin (2010). “The Laws of Nature: Excerpts from the Writings of Ralph Waldo Emerson”, p.32, North Atlantic Books

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• The end of spring- the poet is brooding about editors.

  Yosa Buson

  Spring, Editors, June

  Yosa Buson, “The End Of Spring”

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• Oh that it were with me
  As with the flower;
  Blooming on its own tree
  For butterfly and bee
  Its summer morns:
  That I might bloom mine hour
  A rose in spite of thorns.
  
  Oh that my work were done
  As birds' that soar
  Rejoicing in the sun:
  That when my time is run
  And daylight too,
  I so might rest once more
  Cool with refreshing dew.

  Christina Rossetti

  Running, Flower, Butterfly

  Christina Rossetti (2013). “Delphi Complete Works of Christina Rossetti (Illustrated)”, p.96, Delphi Classics

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• The sneer is gone from Casey's lip, his teeth are clenched in hate;
  He pounds with cruel violence his bat upon the plate.
  And now the pitcher holds the ball, and now he lets it go,
  And now the air is shattered by the force of Casey's blow.
  Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright;
  The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light,
  And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout;
  But there is no joy in Mudville, mighty Casey has struck out.

  Ernest Thayer

  Children, Hate, Heart

  Ernest Lawrence Thayer (2007). “Casey at the Bat: The Billion Dollar Contract”, p.4, Benchmark Education Company

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• The summer morn is bright and fresh, the birds are darting by. As if they loved to breast the breeze that sweeps the cool clear sky.

  William C. Bryant

  Sky, June, July

  William Cullen Bryant, “The Strange Lady”

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• For summer there, bear in mind, is a loitering gossip, that only begins to talk of leaving when September rises to go.

  George Washington Cable

  June, Gossip, Leaving

  George Washington Cable (1988). “The Grandissimes: A Story of Creole Life”, p.1, University of Georgia Press

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• A bird in the boughs sang "June,"
  And "June" hummed a bee
  In a Bacchic glee
  As he tumbled over and over
  Drunk with the honey-dew.

  Clinton Scollard

  June, Drunk, Bird

  CLINTON SCOLLARD (1888). “OLD AND NEW WORLD LYRICS”

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• Heed not the night;
  A summer lodge amid the wild is mine,
  'Tis shadowed by the tulip-tree,
  'Tis mantled by the vine.

  William C. Bryant

  Night, June, Tree

  William Cullen Bryant, “The Strange Lady”

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• It is a sultry day; the sun has drunk
  The dew that lay upon the morning grass;
  There is no rustling in the lofty elm
  That canopies my dwelling, and its shade
  Scarce cools me. All is silent, save the faint
  And interrupted murmur of the bee,
  Settling on the sick flowers,
  And then again Instantly on the wing.

  William C. Bryant

  Morning, Flower, Wings

  William Cullen Bryant, “Summer Wind”

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• Tell you what I like the best -
  'Long about knee-deep in June,
  'Bout the time strawberries melts
  On the vine, - some afternoon
  Like to jes' git out and rest,
  And not work at nothin' else!

  James Whitcomb Riley

  June, Long, Knees

  James Whitcomb Riley (1982). “The Best of James Whitcomb Riley”, p.121, Indiana University Press

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• Strawberries that in gardens grow
  Are plump and juicy fine,
  But sweeter far as wise men know
  Spring from the woodland vine.
  No need for bowl or silver spoon,
  Sugar or spice or cream,
  Has the wild berry plucked in June
  Beside the trickling stream.
  One such to melt at the tongue's root,
  Confounding taste with scent,
  Beats a full peck of garden fruit:
  Which points my argument.

  Robert Graves

  Wise, Spring, Men

  Robert Graves (1920). “Country Sentiment”

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• I pray that the life of this spring and summer may ever lie fair in my memory.

  Henry David Thoreau

  Memories, Lying, Spring

  Henry David Thoreau (2011). “The Journal of Henry David Thoreau, 1837-1861”, p.117, New York Review of Books

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• June is bustin' out all over.

  Oscar Hammerstein II

  June, Months

  "June Is Bustin' Out All Over" (song) (1945)

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• In a bowl to sea went wise men three,
  On a brilliant night of June:
  They carried a net, and their hearts were set
  On fishing up the moon.

  Thomas Love Peacock

  Wise, Heart, Night

  Thomas Love Peacock (1931). “The Works of Thomas Love Peacock: Poems and plays. 1931”

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• Long drawn, the cool, green shadows
  Steal o'er the lake's warm breast,
  And the ancient silence follows
  The burning sun to rest. The calm of a thousand summers,
  And dreams of countless Junes,
  Return when the lake-wind murmurs
  Through golden August noons.

  William Braithwaite

  Dream, August, Wind

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