In summer, the song sings itself. – William Carlos Williams

Summer is the time when one sheds one’s tensions with one’s clothes, and the right kind of day is jeweled balm for the battered spirit. A few of those days and you can become drunk with the belief that all’s right with the world. – Ada Louise Huxtable

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