| "The tendinous part of the mind, so to speak, is more developed in winter the fleshy, in summer. I should say winter had given the bone and sinew to literature, summer the tissues and the blood." »John Burroughs |
| "summer afternoon - summer afternoon... the two most beautiful words in the English language." »Henry James |
| "Love rules the court, the camp, the grove, And men below, and saints above For love is heaven, and heaven is love." »Sir Walter Scott |
| "In summer, the song sings itself." »William Carlos Williams |
| "One swallow does not make a summer." »Aristotle |
| "September tries its best to have us forget summer." »Bern Williams |
| "There comes a time when summer asks what you have been doing all winter." »Unknown |
| "The summer night is like a perfection of thought." »Wallace Stevens |
| "There shall be eternal summer in the grateful heart." »Celia Thaxter |
| "In the depths of winter I finally learned there was in me an invincible summer." »Albert Camus |
| "Every man, wherever he goes, is encompassed by a cloud of comforting convictions, which move with him like flies on a summer day." »Bertrand Russell |
| "This quote reminds me to enjoy each moment of the summer Steep thyself in a bowl of summertime." »Virgil |
| "Long stormy spring-time, wet contentious April, winter chilling the lap of very May but at length the season of summer does come." »Thomas Carlyle |
| "It's designed to break your heart. The game begins in the spring, when everything is new again, and it blossoms in the summer, filling the afternoons and evenings, and then as soon as the chill rains comes, it stops, and leaves you to face the fall alone." »A Bartlett Giamatti |
| "Our fear of death is like our fear that summer will be short, but when we have had our swing of pleasure, our fill of fruit, and our swelter of heat, we say we have had our day." »John Donne |
| "If winter is slumber and spring is birth, and summer is life, then autumn rounds out to be reflection. It's a time of year when the leaves are down and the harvest is in and the perennials are gone. Mother Earth just closed up the drapes on another year and it's time to reflect on what's come before." »Mitchell Burgess |
| "Where today are the Pequot Where are the Narragansett, the Mohican, the Pokanoket, and many other once powerful tribes of our people They have vanished before the avarice and the oppression of the White Man, as snow before a summer sun. Will we let ourselves be destroyed in our turn without a struggle, give up our homes, our country bequeathed to us by the Great Spirit, the graves of our dead and everything that is dear to us I know you will cry with me, NEVER NEVER." »Tecumseh |
| "When I was a small boy growing up in Kansas, a friend of mine and I went fishing and as we sat there in the warmth of a summer afternoon on a riverbank we talked about what we wanted to do when we grew up. I told him that I wanted to be a real major-league baseball player, a genuine professional like Honus Wagner. My friend said that he'd like to be President of the United States. Neither of us got our wish." »Dwight D Eisenhower |
| "George So in the end, was it worth it Jesus Christ. How irreparably changed my life has become. It's always the last days of summer and I've been left out in the cold with no door to get back in. I'll grant you I've had more than my share of poignant moments. Life passes most people by when they're busy making grand plans for it. Throughout my lifetime I've left pieces of my heart here and there. And now, there's almost barely enough to stay alive. But I force a smile, knowing that my ambition far exceeded my talent. There are no more white horses or pretty ladies at my door." »Blow |
| "Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this sun of York, And all the clouds that loured upon our house In the deep bosom of the ocean buried. Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths, Our bruised arms hung up for monuments, Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings, Our dreadful marches to delightful measures. Grim-visaged war hath smoothed his wrinkled front And now, instead of mounting barbed steeds To fright the souls of fearful adversaries, He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber To the lascivious pleasing of a lute. But I, that am not shaped for sportive tricks, Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass I, that am rudely stamped, and want love's majesty To strut before a wanton ambling nymph I, that am curtailed of this fair proportion, Cheated of feature by dissembling nature, Deformed, unfinished, sent before my time Into this breathing world, scarce half made up, And that so lamely and unfashionable That dogs bark at me as I halt by them,-- Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace, Have no delight to pass away the time, Unless to spy my shadow in the sun." »William Shakespeare |
| BTW, Why won't you become an editor? |
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