Summer afternoon, summer afternoon; to me those have always been the two most beautiful words in the English language.
One must maintain a little bittle of summer, even in the middle of winter.
The summer night is like a perfection of thought.
A perfect summer day is when the sun is shining, the breeze is blowing and mojito in your hand.
Sometimes I wonder what I'm a-gonna do 'Cause there ain't no cure for the summertime blues.
There's no such thing as bad weather, just soft people.
In the depths of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer.
People don't notice whether it's winter or summer when they're happy.
Summer is a promissory note signed in June, its long days spent and gone before you know it, and due to be repaid next January.
I love summertime more than anything else in the world. That is the only thing that gets me through the winter, knowing that summer is going to be there.
A man says a lot of things in summer he doesn't mean in winter.
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.
Do what we can, summer will have its flies.
If it could only be like this always - always summer, always alone, the fruit always ripe and Aloysius in a good temper.
A life without love is like a year without spring.
Summer has set in with its usual severity.
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.
I'm a big fan of London in the summertime. English people are dependent on weather to change our attitudes, and, provided it's a decent summer, everyone's spirits are uplifted and the whole place is in bloom. It's a magical transformation. London in the summer, going to see bands play outside, watching football.
Oh, the summer night, Has a smile of light, And she sits on a sapphire throne.
In winter I get up at night And dress by yellow candle-light. In summer quite the other way I have to go to bed by day.
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.
Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass under trees on a summer's day, listening to the murmur of the water, or watching the clouds float across the sky, is by no means a waste of time.
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.
It was June, and the world smelled of roses. The sunshine was like powdered gold over the grassy hillside.
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