Summer Sweet Quotes

Such a large sweet fruit is a complete marriage, that it needs a very long summer to ripen in and then a long winter to mellow and season it. ~ Theodore Parker

How sweet I roamed from field to field, And tasted all the summer's pride, Till I the prince of love beheld, Who in the sunny beams did glide! ~ William Blake

Oh, those warm days of stumbling words; blinded eyes, embracing in sweet slow dances and sipping courage from a bottle for sneaking kisses. ~ Kellie Elmore

Another way I like to barbecue king salmon is as a whole fish stuffed, literally to the gills, with sweet onions, sliced lemons, and summer sage. ~ Tom Douglas

Thus with the year
Seasons return, but not to me returns
Day, or the sweet approach of ev'n or morn,
Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose,
Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine. ~ John Milton

Halloween is an ancient druidic holiday, one the Celtic peoples have celebrated for millennia. It is the crack between the last golden rays of summer and the dark of winter; the delicately balanced tweak of the year before it is given over entirely to the dark; a time for the souls of the departed to squint, to peek and perhaps to travel through the gap. What could be more thrilling and worthy of celebration than that? It is a time to celebrate sweet bounty, as the harvest is brought in. It is a time of excitement and pleasure for children before the dark sets in. We should all celebrate that. ~ Jenny Colgan

The summer's flower is to the summer sweet
Though to itself it only live and die ~ William Shakespeare

Solitary converse with nature; for thence are ejaculated sweet and dreadful words never uttered in libraries. Ah! the spring days, the summer dawns, and October woods! ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

This summer-sweet night is only one minute upon one minute upon another
Beautiful cacophony, sugar upon lips, dancing to exhaustion
I thought of you, before this minute upon another minute upon another
Until, numb, my lips fell onto the mouth of another, and I was undone.

~from Golden Tongue: The Poems of Steven Slaughter which is a fictional book in
Ballad: A gathering of faerie ~ Maggie Stiefvater

Yet nor the lays of birds nor the sweet smell Of different flowers in odour and in hue Could make me any summer's story tell, Or from their proud lap pluck them where they grew; Nor did I wonder at the lily's white, Nor praise the deep vermilion in the rose; They were but sweet, but figures of delight, Drawn after you, you pattern of all those. ~ William Shakespeare

Thy tongue
Makes Welsh as sweet as ditties highly penn'd,
Sung by a fair queen in a summer's bower,
With ravishing division, to her lute. ~ William Shakespeare

Summer is the sweet spot of the movie-going season
and it's also peak season for Six Flags theme parks. ~ Mark Shapiro

In a drear-nighted December, Too happy, happy brook, Thy bubblings ne'er remember Apollo's summer look; But with a sweet forgetting, They stay their crystal fretting, Never, never petting About the frozen time. ~ John Keats

There is a beautiful spirit breathing now Its mellowed richness on the clustered trees, And, from a beaker full of richest dyes, Pouring new glory on the autumn woods, And dipping in warm light the pillared clouds. Morn on the mountain, like a summer bird, Lifts up her purple wing, and in the vales The gentle wind, a sweet and passionate wooer, Kisses the blushing leaf, and stirs up life Within the solemn woods of ash deep-crimsoned, And silver beech, and maple yellow-leaved, Where Autumn, like a faint old man, sits down By the wayside a-weary. ~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Tis moonlight, summer moonlight,
All soft and still and fair;
The solemn hour of midnight
Breathes sweet thoughts everywhere,
But most where trees are sending
Their breezy boughs on high,
Or stooping low are lending
A shelter from the sky.
And there in those wild bowers
A lovely form is laid;
Green grass and dew-steeped flowers
Wave gently round her head. ~ Emily Bronte

Once more their weird laughter of the loons comes to my ear, the distance lends it a musical, melancholy sound. For a dangerous ledge off the lighthouse island floats in on the still air the gentle trolling of a warning bell as it swings on the rocking buoy; it might be tolling for the passing of summer and sweet weather with that persistent, pensive chime. ~ Celia Thaxter

Did you come of age in those sweet summers of the early nineteen-sixties, when the airwaves were full of rock and roll's doo-wop promise of joy and the nation was full of J.F.K.'s eloquent promise of a New Frontier? I did. Life seemed to be laid out before us like a banquet; everything was for the taking, especially hearts. ~ John Lahr

I loved the you inside and out. You make the world better just by being in it. You make me better.", Loving Summer by Kailin Gow ~ Kailin Gow

The golden line is drawn between winter and summer. Behind all is blackness and darkness and dissolution. Before is hope, and soft airs, and the flowers, and the sweet season of hay; and people will cross the fields, reading or walking with one another; and instead of the rain that soaks death into the heart of green things, will be the rain which they drink with delight; and there will be sleep on the grass at midday, and early rising in the morning, and long moonlight evenings. ~ Leigh Hunt

My life's long radiant Summer halts at last, And lo! beside my path way I behold Pursuing Autumn glide: nor frost nor cold Has heralded her presence; but a vast Sweet calm that comes not till the year has passed Its fevered solstice, and a tinge of gold Subdues the vivid colouring of bold And passion-hued emotions. I will cast My August days behind me with my May, Nor strive to drag them into Autumn's place, Nor swear I hope when I do but remember. Now violet and rose have had their day, I'll pluck the soberer asters with good grace And call September nothing but September. ~ Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Some wise being organized my system, and gave me my capacity, put into my heart and brain something that delights, charms, and fills me with rapture at the sound of sweet music. ~ Brigham Young

This sounds really cheesy and weird, but the pitbull is a sweet animal that just wants love until it's provoked - that's kind of how I've lived my life, too. ~ Crystal Bowersox

I am attached to the west coast of Scotland - it's gorgeous to look at and challenging. You have to contend with the possibility of being blown away or rained on. And in the summer months you can be eaten alive by midges. ~ Clive Anderson

Fate looks at nothing. It has no discretion. He no longer considered it eminently desirable all round to establish publicly the identity of the man who had blown himself up that morning with such horrible completeness. But he was not certain of the view his department would take. A department is to those it employs a complex personality with ideas and even fads of its own. It depends on the loyal devotion of its servants, and the devoted loyalty of trusted servants is associated with a certain amount of affectionate contempt, which keeps it sweet, as it were. By a benevolent provision of Nature no man is a hero to his valet, or else the heroes would have to brush their own clothes. Likewise no department appears perfectly wise to the intimacy of its workers. A department does not know so much as some of its servants. Being a dispassionate organism, it can never be perfectly informed. It would not be good for its efficiency to know too much. Chief Inspector Heat got out of the train in a state of thoughtfulness entirely untainted with disloyalty, but not quite free of that jealous mistrust which so often springs on the ground of perfect devotion, whether to women or to institutions. ~ Joseph Conrad

When her doctor took her bandages off and led her into the garden, the girl who was no longer blind saw "the tree with the lights in it." It was for this tree I searched through the peach orchards of summer, in the forests of fall and down winter and spring for years. Then one day I was walking along Tinker creek and thinking of nothing at all and I saw the tree with the lights in it. I saw the backyard cedar where the mourning doves roost charged and transfigured, each cell buzzing with flame. I stood on the grass with the lights in it, grass that was wholly fire, utterly focused and utterly dreamed. It was less like seeing that like being for the first time see, knocked breathless by a powerful glance. The flood of fire abated, but I'm still spending the power. Gradually the lights went out in the cedar, the colors died, the cells un-flamed and disappeared. I was still ringing. I had been my whole life a bell and never knew it until at that moment I was lifted and struck. I have since only very rarely seen the tree with the lights in it. The vision comes and goes, mostly goes, but I live for it, for the moment the mountains open and a new light roars in spate through the crack, and the mountains slam. ~ Annie Dillard

Write down everything you fear in life.
Burn it.
Pour herbal oil with a sweet scent on the ashes. ~ Yoko Ono

When we were young, we understood all sweet things; and we could detect the sweets of a fairy story by an unerring science of our own. We never cared for such useless things as knowledge. We only cared for truth. ~ Rabindranath Tagore

Don't you feel how connected we are?" I ask. "If I break your heart, I break mine." A sweet smile spreads over her lips and she nods. ~ Kennedy Ryan

Sweet, voluptuous & sexy
But I'm hellacious as they get
Don't test me!
My equilibrium is off
I want balance
I want my love rocked back
To its origin ~ Jasira Monique

Quickly capping 363 oil well fires in a war zone is impossible. The fires would burn out of control until they put themselves out ... The resulting soot might well stretch over all of South Asia ... It could be carried around the world ... [and] the consequences could be dire. Beneath such a pall sunlight would be dimmed, temperatures lowered and droughts more frequent. Spring and summer frosts may be expected ... This endangerment of the food supplies ... appears to be likely enough that it should affect the war plans ... ~ Carl Sagan

Away

There is no sorrow
Time heals never;
No loss, betrayal,
Beyond repair.
Balm for the soul, then,
Though grave shall sever
Lover from loved
And all they share.
See the sweet sun shines
The shower is over;
Flowers preen their beauty,
The day how fair!
Brood not too closely
On love, on duty;
Friends long forgotten
May wait you where
Life with death
Brings all to an issue;
None will long mourn for you,
Pray for you, miss you,
Your place left vacant,
You not there. ~ Walter De La Mare

夏草や
兵どもが
夢の跡

The summer grasses -
For many brave warriors
The aftermath of dreams.

- Donald Keene, Travelers of a Hundred Ages, New York, 1999, p. 316 (Translation: Donald Keene) ~ Matsuo Basho

For a cup brimful of sweet water cannot spill even one drop of bitter water, however suddenly jolted. ~ Amy Carmichael

In the years that I worked in museums, first as a summer student and eventually as a curator, one of the primary lessons I learned was this: History is shaped by the people who seek to preserve it. We, of the present, decide what to keep, what to put on display, what to put into storage, and what to discard. ~ Susanna Kearsley

There's a time in some years, after the first frosts, when the sun gets hot again, and summer returns for a time. Winter is coming; you know that from the way the mornings smell, the way the leaves, half-turned to color, are dry and poised to drop. But summer goes on, a small false summer, all the more precious for being small and false. In Little Belaire, we called this time
for some reason nobody knows
engine summer. ~ John Crowley

What do I want to take home from my summer vacation? Time. The wonderful luxury of being at rest. The days when you shut down the mental machinery that keeps life on track and let life simply wander. The days when you stop planning, analyzing, thinking and just are. Summer is my period of grace. ~ Ellen Goodman

Life is one grand, sweet song, so start the music. ~ Ronald Reagan

People and trees receded on either hand like the dark sides of a tunnel as I hurtled on to the still, bright point at the end of it, the pebble at the bottom of the well, the white sweet baby cradled in its mother's belly. ~ Sylvia Plath

In spring they lie flat at the first warmth, they ruin my summer and in autumn they smell of women. ~ Hugo Claus

His body was sweet and clean smelling. As she finished [massaging his dislocated shoulder], Fay bent and gently kissed him on the neck, that part where the skin is so soft abd sensitive, midway between the angle of the jaw and the hair line at the back of the neck. He opened his eyes, startled, then smiled as he murmured, "Oh! It's you. That's all right." He folded his arms about her, bringing her head close to his, then like a contented child sank into a deep sleep. His clean body odor gave her keenest delight. She hesitated to attempt to alter their relationship, and possibly lose him entirely. He had accepted her as a pal, that she would be. ~ Robert Scully

One summer afternoon I came home and found all the umbrellas sitting in the kitchen, with straw hats on, telling who they are.
...
The umbrella that peels the potatoes with a pencil and makes a pink ink with the peelings stood up and said, "I am the umbrella that peels the potatoes with a pencil and makes a pink ink with the peelings." ...
The umbrella that runs to the corner to get corners for the handkerchiefs stood up and said, "I am the umbrella that runs to the corner to get corners for the handkerchiefs."

...

"I am the umbrella that holds up the sky. I am the umbrella the rain comes through. I am the umbrella that tells the sky when to begin raining and when to stop raining.
"I am the umbrella that goes to pieces when the wind blows and then puts itself back together again when the wind goes down. I am the first umbrella, the last umbrella, the one and only umbrella all other umbrellas are named after, first, last and always."
When the stranger finished this speech telling who he was and where he came from, all the other umbrellas sat still for a little while, to be respectful.
~ Carl Sandburg

And Annwyl. Remember what I told you." "Protect my right side?" "No." "Feint with my left?" "No." "Nice ass?" "No!" His growl of annoyance only elicited a sweet chuckle from his woman. "Watch my rage, heart of my heart?" "Condescending cow. ~ G.A. Aiken

But to tell even a tenth part of the marvels rich and beautiful that were in the house of Krothering: its cool courts and colonnades rich with gems and fragrant with costly spices and strange blooms: its bed-chambers where, caught like Aphrodite in her golden net, the spirit of sleep seemed ever to shake slumber from its plumes, and none might be waking long in those chambers but sweet sleep overcame their eyelids: the Chamber of the Sun and the Chamber of the Moon, and the great middle hall with its high gallery and ivory stair: to tell of all these were but to cloy imagination with picturing in one while of over-much glory and splendour. ~ E.R. Eddison

I lie down and think about how this whole long, strange summer ought to end in a substantial event. But, probably, won't. For the first time I acknowledge the possibility that nothing will die, or change, or even happen. ~ Sara Baume

September 14, 2001

What killed me, what killed many of us, was the very end: "My home sweet home." Because, whatever else Paris might be, this _is not_ our home, it's just the place where we have our jobs or apartments. How could we have forgotten that? ~ David Sedaris

Right when my fingers started to slip inside my underwear, I opened my eyes and screamed. "HOLY SHIT!" My son stood there next to the bed just staring at me. Seriously, two inches from my face just staring at me like those creepy twins in "The Shining." I waited for him to start saying, "Come play with us" in their freaky twin voices while I tried not to have a heart attack. "Gavin, seriously. You can't just stand here and stare at mommy. It's weird," I grumbled as I put my hand to my aching head and tried to calm my pounding heart. Sweet Jesus, who kicked me in the head and shit in my mouth last night? "You said a bad word, Mommy, ~ Tara Sivec

There is no shortage of good days. It is good lives that are hard to come by. A life of good days lived in the senses is not enough. The life of sensation is the life of greed; it requires more and more. The life of the spirit requires less and less; time is ample and its passage sweet. Who would call a day spent reading a good day? But a life spent reading
that is a good life. ~ Annie Dillard

you have the sweetest of all music in your soul just now. ~ Leo Tolstoy

We had never eaten our own chickens but we delighted in eating their eggs. No matter how hot the summer became, they always presented us with eggs, which I thought was very generous of them, considering the heat. I'm sure I wouldn't have bothered. ~ Victoria Twead

The only thing I would change is during the summer - when I was working my summer job, if I was smart, I would have taken flying lessons at Auburn. ~ Bo Jackson

This is a very marvelous thing. A winter thing, when everything is pickled and preserved under glass. You can taste summer in this mixture, summer boiled down and soaked in brine, mummified, packed with spices to be born again on this table, in this place, in this snow. ~ Catherynne M Valente

I don't have any fancy story,
about the way we fell in love.
It was that one awkward move,
and the next I remember,
I was looking at you. ~ Jasleen Kaur Gumber

He placed a finger over her lips. She held her breath when he clasped one of her hands, slid it down his chest and over his taut stomach before curving her fingers over the bulge in his trews. They both moaned when she rubbed her palm gently over his hard shaft and stroked his bollocks with her fingers. He was hot in her hands, a tempting combination of hard and soft. "I know what I see," he breathed into her ear and thrust against her palm. "Know what I hold. This is what you do to me." She would have fallen had he not held her up with an arm wrapped around her back. She sought his mouth, touched her lips to his. He opened to her seeking tongue, allowing her to delve inside and stroke his mouth. His tongue twined with hers, giving back as much as he took. He tasted better than summer wine, better than the first harvest fruits of spring. The kiss deepened, a mating of tongues that mimicked the slow thrust of his hips. His hands wandered over her body, sliding down her back, cupping her buttocks. They left trails of fire in their wake, and Martise moaned in his mouth. ~ Grace Draven

we sit
in the final moment
of our beautiful
sunlit days
ask me again
if I love you still

i smile up at the sky
i step into the moving images of us
in the clouds that go by
and i say to you
"Always ~ Kimelene Carr

It is 32c today, and the only thing keeping me from hanging myself is the small sense of relief I glean from attaching my body to the vents of my delicious cooling piece. It is a stunning unit, exquisite in all its forms, exceptional in its application, and effective in all its functions. I would marry it, if only I knew it would not die on me sometime within the next five years. Appliances, like obedient children or silent extroverts, cannot last forever, and while my unbidden affection kept my other air conditioner alive for the better part of ten years, not all inanimate objects can be fueled by my love. ~ Michelle Franklin

When you're a girl, you have to be everything, You have to be dope at what you do, but you have to be super sweet, and you have to be sexy, and you have to be this and you have to be that and you have to be nice, and you have to - it's like, I can't be all of those things at once. I'm a human being. ~ Nicki Minaj

Summer is the season when children slam the doors they left open all winter. ~ Suzanne Woods Fisher

The willow is full plumage and is no help, with its insinuating whispers.
Rendevous, it says. Terraces;
the sibilants run up my spine, a shiver as if in fever. The summer dress rustles against the flesh of my thighs, the grass grows underfoot, at the edges of my eyes there are movements, in the branches; feathers, flittings, grace notes, tree into bird, metamorphosis run wild. Goddesses are possible now and the air suffuses with desire ...
Winter is not so dangerous. I need hardness, cold, rigidity; not this heaviness, as if I'm a melon on a stem, this liquid ripeness. ~ Margaret Atwood

He stood beside a cottage lone
And listened to a lute,
One summer's eve, when the breeze was gone,
And the nightingale was mute. ~ Thomas Kibble Hervey

It didn't matter what I wore, or how much sleep I'd had or not had, he always looked at me as if his world began and ended with me. ~ Jane Harvey-Berrick

I was beginning to taste it. Something bitter, but warm.
A flavor that woke me up and let me see things clearly. A flavor that made me feel safe, so I could let those things go. A flavor that held my hand and walked me across to the other side of loss, and assured me that one day, I would be just fine. A flavor for a change of heart- part grief, part hope.
Suddenly, I knew what that flavor would be. I padded down to the kitchen and cut a slice of sour cream coffee cake with a spicy underground river coursing through its center, left over from an order that had not been picked up today.
One bite and I was sure. A familiar flavor that now seemed utterly fresh and custom-made for me.
Cinnamon.
The comfort of sweet cinnamon. It always worked. I felt better. Lighter. Not quite "everything is going to be all right," but getting there. One step at a time. ~ Judith Fertig

It was the most beautiful sweet roll Bee had ever seen. A flawless circle, puffy from rising, it was studded with raisins and drizzled with pink icing. She could feel the hunger rake its claws along her stomach lining as she gazed at it. ~ Diane Zahler

I wouldn't call it bitter. I think it's just sweet. I've always believed my life seems like it's gotten better and better as each decade has gone by. So I don't see any I don't see any bitterness about it. ~ Greg Norman