August rain: the best of the summer gone, and the new fall not yet born. The odd uneven time.
A life without love is like a year without summer.
Deep summer is when laziness finds respectability.
In early June the world of leaf and blade and flowers explode, and every sunset is different.
I wonder what it would be like to live in a world where it was always June.
Summer afternoon—summer afternoon; to me those have always been the two most beautiful words in the English language.
The summer night is like a perfection of thought.
Everything good, everything magical happens between the months of June and August.
To plant a garden is to believe in tomorrow.
Let us dance in the sun, wearing wildflowers in our hair...
Summertime is always the best of what might be.
Summer has filled her veins with light and her heart is washed with noon.
Summer has a flavor like no other. Always fresh and full of adventure.
One must maintain a little bit of summer, even in the middle of winter.
Live in the sunshine, swim the sea, drink the wild air.