Summer Sun Quotes

A life without love is like a year without spring.

Summer’s lease hath all too short a date.

Warm summer sun, shine kindly here. Warm southern wind, blow softly here. Green sod above, lie light, lie light. Good night, dear Heart, Good night, good night.

Vitamin D from mushrooms is not only vegan and vegetarian friendly, but you can prepare your own by exposing mushrooms to the summer sun.

Breathless, we flung us on a windy hill, Laughed in the sun, and kissed the lovely grass.

The end-of-summer winds make people restless.

If it could only be like this always – always summer, always alone, the fruit always ripe and Aloysius in a good temper.

It was June, and the world smelled of roses. The sunshine was like powdered gold over the grassy hillside.

I tried on the farmer’s hat, Didn’t fit. . . A little too small – just a bit Too floppy. . . . . I tried on the summer sun, Felt good. Nice and warm – knew it would. Tried the grass beneath bare feet, Felt neat. Finally, finally felt well dressed, Nature’s clothes fit me best.

Warm summer sun, shine kindly here.

If a June night could talk, it would probably boast it invented romance.

It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold: when it is summer in the light, and winter in the shade.

A perfect summer day is when the sun is shining, the breeze is blowing and mojito in your hand.

What is life, when wanting love?
Night without a morning;
Love’s the cloudless summer sun,
Nature gay adorning.

This was one of those perfect New England days in late summer where the spirit of autumn takes a first stealing flight, like a spy, through the ripening country-side, and, with feigned sympathy for those who droop with August heat, puts her cool cloak of bracing air about leaf and flower and human shoulders.

A man says a lot of things in summer he doesn’t mean in winter.

In the depths of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer.

Summer-induced stupidity. That was the diagnosis.

Love is to the heart what the summer is to the farmer’s year. It brings to harvest all the loveliest flowers of the soul.

Summer afternoon, summer afternoon; to me those have always been the two most beautiful words in the English language.

O lovely eyes of azure, Clear as the waters of a brook that run Limpid and laughing in the summer sun!

A tale begun in other days, When summer suns were glowing – A simple chime, that served to time The rhythm of your rowing – Whose echoes live in memory yet, Though envious years would say ‘forget.

That familiar conviction that life was beginning over again with the summer.

To him, who still would gaze upon the glory of the summer sun, there comes, when that sun will from him part, a sullen hopelessness of heart.

The first week of August hangs at the very top of summer, the top of the live-long year, like the highest seat of a Ferris wheel when it pauses in its turning.

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.

Where today are the Pequot? Where are the Narragansett, the Mohican, the Pcanet, and other powerful tribes of our people? They have vanished before the avarice and oppression of the white man, as snow before the summer sun.

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.

I almost wish we were butterflies and liv’d but three summer days – three such days with you I could fill with more delight than fifty common years could ever contain.

The summer sun was not meant for boys like me. Boys like me belonged to the rain.

Any one thinking of the Holy Child as born in December would mean by it exactly what we mean by it; that Christ is not merely a summer sun of the prosperous but a winter fire for the unfortunate.

Cricket to us was more than play, it was a worship in the summer sun.

Let us dance in the sun, wearing wild flowers in our hair.

I think if we all gardened more, they and all of the other birds that fly in the air above and light in my garden below would be better off. I know that God values them no less than I do. So when I plant in spring I also hope to taste of God in fruit of summer sun and sight of feathered friends.