Quotes about sum
summer fall winter
In summer, intolerable closeness; in winter, unendurable cold. All the floors were rotten. Filth on the floors an inch thick; one could slip and fall... Fyodor Dostoevsky
summer boys hair
I remember once walking out hand in hand with a boy I knew, and it was summer, and suddenly before us was a field of gold. Gold as far as you could see. We knew we'd be rich forever. We filled our pockets and our hair. We were rolled in gold. We ran through the field laughing and our legs and feet were coated in yellow dust, so that we were like golden statues or golden gods. He kissed my feet, the boy I was with, and when he smiled, he had a gold tooth. It was only a field of buttercups, but we were young. Jeanette Winterson
summer spring fall
- Growth has its season. There are spring and summer, but there are also fall and winter. And then spring and summer again. As long as the roots are not severed, all is well and all be well. Jerzy Kosinski
summer home winning
I want to be in the best winning situation. I don't want to be around anybody who's just interested in playing out the season and then going home for the summer. Jermaine O'Neal
summertime dresses fabric
During the summertime, I really like to dress like a gypsy. I love that whole lifestyle and the whole mixing of fabrics and flowy materials. Jennifer Stone
summer baby husband
Regular women carry pictures of their babies, their husbands, their summer houses. Fat ladies carry pictures of themselves at their skinniest. Jennifer Weiner
summer light each-day
One benefit of Summer was that each day we had more light to read by. Jeannette Walls
summer morning cheer
Perhaps there is no time in a summer's day more cheering, than when the warmth of the sun is just beginning to triumph over the freshness of the morning--when there is just a lingering hint of early coolness to keep off languor under the delicious influence of warmth. George Eliot
summer art believe
We know summer is the height of of being alive. We don't believe in God or the prospect of an afterlife mostly, so we know that we're only given eighty summers or so per lifetime, and each one has to be better then the last, has to encompass a trip to that arts center up at Bard, a seemingly mellow game of badminton over at some yahoo's Vermont cottage, and a cool, wet, slightly dangerous kayak trip down an unforgiving river. Otherwise, how would you know that you have lived your summertime best? What is you missed out on some morsel of shaded nirvana? Gary Shteyngart
summer running home
Summer is a Latvian chicken. We make foolish choices. We think we’re young again. We run with outstretched arms toward an object of love and it pecks us and pecks us until we’re standing there snot-nosed and teary in the middle of Astor Place and the sun sets fire to our Penguin shirts and all that is left to do is go to our air-conditioned homes and ponder the cruelty of our finest season. Gary Shteyngart
summer flower twilight
What is green? The grass is green, With small flowers between. What is violet? Clouds are violet In the summer twilight. What is orange? Why, an orange, Just an orange! Christina Rossetti
summer famous-love winter
I wish I could remember the first day, First hour, first moment of your meeting me; If bright or dim the season it might be; Summer or winter for aught I can say. So, unrecorded did it slip away, So blind was i to see and to forsee, So dull to mark the budding of my tree That would not blossom, yet, for many a May. Christina Rossetti
summer running flower
Oh that it were with me As with the flower; Blooming on its own tree For butterfly and bee Its summer morns: That I might bloom mine hour A rose in spite of thorns. Oh that my work were done As birds' that soar Rejoicing in the sun: That when my time is run And daylight too, I so might rest once more Cool with refreshing dew. Christina Rossetti
summer race bird
It's surely summer. for there's a swallow: Come one swallow, his mate will follow, The bird race quicken and wheel and thicken. Christina Rossetti
summer ocean missing
I've been really into a light, bright playfulness that's been missing. I looked at these '60s and '70s photos of Jackie O. She went to Capri every summer, but she was always a little more playful, a little more colorful, than she was in 'normal' life. And it was exciting to see her a little bit "off duty." The colors are from awning stripe umbrellas, from a really clear ocean, and from ripe citrus. Christian Siriano
summer weed believe
It was hard telling those kids...that I wasn't going to be there this year. And I knew I was going to miss them. I won't have an opportunity to see them again, unless they stop by the house. Now during the summer, I got lots of notes; kids would stop by the house. I'd be pulling weeds or something and they would come up and give me a hug and say, 'Oh, I can't believe it, this is so wonderful!' and just get very excited about it. It was hard not being in school. I would have loved to have gone back to school. Christa McAuliffe
summer jobs new-york
I took part in a theatre festival in Massachusetts two summers after I graduated from college. Then I was in Los Angeles thinking: "I'm going to go to New York." I'd decided that I would not have a chance of a film career, so I was about to make the move. I bought a plane ticket and found a place to live in New York, packed my bags and of course the universe "told me" that I was not meant to go. Suddenly, a week before I was supposed to leave, I had three job offers and one of them was my first movie. Chris Pine
summer horse steps
I only won $250 all summer. And then I got crippled. I had a horse step on me while performing and it was messed up for a while. Chris LeDoux
summer ideas height
I was sure 'Summer Heights High' would be a cult ABC thing; I had no idea it would be such a big hit. Chris Lilley
summer writing height
To be honest, after all the crap that happened with 'Summer Heights High,' I was like, 'I'm not going to write anything controversial or edgy ever again; I just can't handle the blame.' Chris Lilley
summer flower eye
taking her hand he led her out into a broad stretch of hard sandy soil that the moon flooded with great splendor. They floated out like drifting moths under the rich hazy light, and as the fantastic symphony wept and exulted and wavered and despaired, Ardita's last sense of reality dropped away, and she abandonded her imagination to the dreamy summer scents of tropial flowers and the infinite starry spaces overhead, feeling that if she opened her eyes it would be to find herself dancing with a ghost in a land created by her own fantasy. F. Scott Fitzgerald
summer dream morning
He found himself remembering how on one summer morning they two had started from New York in search of happiness. They had never expected to find it, perhaps, yet in itself that quest had been happier than anything he expected forevermore. Life, it seemed, must be a setting up of props around one - otherwise it was disaster. There was no rest, no quiet. He had been futile in longing to drift and dream, no one drifted except to maelstroms, no one dreamed, without his dreams becoming fantastic nightmares of indecision and regret. F. Scott Fitzgerald
summer dream past
The past--the wild charge at the head of his men up San Juan Hill; the first years of his marriage when he worked late into the summer dusk down in the busy city for young Hildegarde whom he loved; the days before that when he sat smoking far into the night in the gloomy old Button house on Monroe Street with his grandfather-all these had faded like unsubstantial dreams from his mind as though they had never been. He did not remember. F. Scott Fitzgerald
summer lying past
He wondered vaguely whether in the abolished past it had been a normal experience to lie in bed like this, in the cool of a summer evening, a man and a woman with no clothes on, making love when they chose, talking of what they chose, not feeling any compulsion to get up, simply lying there and listening to peaceful sounds outside. Surely there could never have been a time when that seemed ordinary? George Orwell
summer peace war
Before the war, and especially before the Boer War, it was summer all the year round. George Orwell
summer wall cutting
This is not Winterfell', he told him as he cut his meat with fork and dagger. 'On the Wall, a man gets only what he earns. You're no ranger, Jon, only a green boy with the smell of summer still on you. George R. R. Martin
summer mother laughter
Needle was Robb and Bran and Rickon, her mother and her father, even Sansa. Needle was Winterfell's grey walls, and the laughter of its people. Needle was the summer snows, Old Nan's stories, the heart tree with its red leaves and scary face, the warm earthy smell of the glass gardens, the sound of the north wind rattling the shutters of her room. Needle was Jon Snow's smile. He used to mess my hair and call me "little sister," she remembered, and suddenly there were tears in her eyes. George R. R. Martin
summer winter knights
For they are the knights of summer, and winter is coming. George R. R. Martin
summer sports baseball
Believe it or not, I worked four summers in college as a sports writer covering baseball for a parks and rec department in Bayonne, N.J. George R. R. Martin
summer sweet children
Oh, my sweet summer child," Old Nan said quietly, "what do you know of fear? Fear is for the winter, my little lord, when the snows fall a hundred feet deep and the ice wind comes howling out of the north. Fear is for the long night, when the sun hides its face for years at a time, and little children are born and live and die all in darkness while the direwolves grow gaunt and hungry, and the white walkers move through the woods George R. R. Martin
summer morning cold
The morning had dawned clear and cold, with a crispness that hinted at the end of summer. George R. R. Martin
summer winter long
A long summer always meant a long winter to come. George R. R. Martin
summer fall autumn
What was it Catelyn Stark had called them, that night at Bitterbridge? The knights of summer. And now it was autumn and they were falling like leaves... George R. R. Martin