I walk without flinching through the burning cathedral of the summer. My bank of wild grass is majestic and full of music. It is a fire that solitude presses against my lips. – Violette Leduc, Mad in Pursuit
Ah, summer, what power you have to make us suffer and like it. – Russel Baker
If a June night could talk, it would probably boast it invented romance. – Bern Williams
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. – Gertrude Jekyll
It’s a cruel season that makes you get ready for bed while it’s light out. – Bill Watterson
In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer. – Albert Camus
There shall be eternal summer in the grateful heart. – Celia Thaxter
The summer night is like a perfection of thought. – Wallace Stevens
In summer, the song sings itself. – William Carlos Williams
Deep summer is when laziness finds respectability. – Sam Keen
Summer has set in with its usual severity. – Samuel Taylor Coleridge
A life without love is like a year without summer. – Swedish Proverb
What good is the warmth of summer, without the cold of winter to give it sweetness. – John Steinbeck
Do what we can, summer will have its flies. – Ralph Waldo Emerson
And so with the sunshine and the great bursts of leaves growing on the trees, just as things grow in fast movies, I had that familiar conviction that life was beginning over again with the summer. – F. Scott Fitzgerald
One benefit of summer was that each day we had more light to read by. – Jeannette Walls, The Glass Castle
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. – Sydney Smith, Lady Holland’s Memoir
Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass under the trees on a summer’s day, listening to the murmur of water, or watching the clouds float across the blue sky, is by no means waste of time. – John Lubbock, “Recreation,” The Use of Life, 1894
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, 1941
Summer afternoon—summer afternoon; to me those have always been the two most beautiful words in the English language. – Henry James
