Summer Quotes

“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.”

“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.”

“The summer in youcalms the winter in me.”

“...some student asked if he [Larry Summers] didn’t have essentially the same relationship with Bob Rubin. Wasn’t Summer’s opposition to capital controls just a sop to Wall Street banks, which wanted to recoup their risky investments regardless of how doing so affected the country in which they had invested? “Summers just lost it,” said one audience member, a business school student. “he looked at the person and said, “you don’t know what you’re talking about and how dare you ask this question of the president of Harvard?”

“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.”

“Thinking these things made space and time around her, the way saying 'only June' had when she was a child hoarding summer.”

“I fell for her in summer, my lovely summer girlFrom summer she is made my lovely summer girlI'd love to spend a winter with my lovely summer girlBut I'm never warm enough for my lovely summer girlIt's summer when she smiles, I'm laughing like a childIt's the summer of our lives; we'll contain it for a whileShe holds the heat, the breeze of summer in the circle of her handI'd be happy with this summer if it's all we ever had.”

“Every summer there are a number of nights, not many, but a number, when everything is perfect. The light, the warmth, the smells, the mist, the birdsong – the moths. Who can sleep? Who wants to?”

“Beacon, beacon, lonesome on a hill—Waves run aground, pound ‘round, what a thrill!Water water everywhere crashes,Shore’s not lazy for it mashes, bashes…..Summer’s when tourists traipse o’er to see you,Offering to wipe-wash your dust and mildew;Summer painters place you with dinghy and gull,Historians have you as subject o’er which to mull.When feline Fog drifts gently or is heavy, Your bright light’s followed by boat bevy;And during those calm, clear days and nightsYou’re that upright nautical dream exciting tiny tykes.”

“I fell for her in summer, my lovely summer girl,From summer she is made, my lovely summer girl,I’d love to spend a winter with my lovely summer girl,But I’m never warm enough for my lovely summer girl,It’s summer when she smiles, I’m laughing like a child,It’s the summer of our lives; we’ll contain it for a whileShe holds the heat, the breeze of summer in the circle of her handI’d be happy with this summer if it’s all we ever had.”

“Traigh came to help her dismount, a broad smile making creases around his eyes. “I fear ye missed our summer, Joie.” Her brow drew in with confusion. “But it is summer, Traigh,” she told him. “Aye, it might well be summer elsewhere in the world, but here, it only last three days. We had our summer last week.”