Quotations About / On:
Summer has set in with its usual severity.
(Samuel Taylor Coleridge (1772-1834), British poet, critic. Letter, May 9, 1826, by essayist Charles Lamb. Quoted in Letters of Charles Lamb, vol. 2, ed. Alfed Ainger (1888).)
It was as lovely a summer as those that precede wars.
(Angela Carter (1940-1992), British postmodern novelist. repr. Penguin. "Elegy for a Freelance," Fireworks: Nine Profane Pieces, p. 117 (1974).)
France has neither winter nor summer nor moralsapart from these drawbacks it is a fine country.
(Mark Twain [Samuel Langhorne Clemens] (1835-1910), U.S. author. Mark Twain's Notebooks and Journals, entry in notebook 18, vol. 2, ed. Frederick Anderson (1975).)
It will not always be summer; build barns.
(Hesiod (c. 8th century B.C.), Greek didactic poet. Works and Days, 503.)
Ah, summer, what power you have to make us suffer and like it.
(Russell Baker (b. 1925), U.S. journalist. New York Times (June 27, 1965).)
I hope we shall give them a thorough drubbing this summer, and then change our tomahawk into a golden chain of friendship.
(Thomas Jefferson (1743-1826), U.S. president. Letter, April 15, 1791, to Charles Carroll. The Papers of Thomas Jefferson, vol. 20, p. 214, ed. Julian P. Boyd, et al. (1950).)
Our [British] summers are often, though beautiful for verdure, so cold, that they are rather cold winters.
(Horace Walpole (1717-1797), British author. Horace Walpole's Miscellany 1786-1795, p. 52, ed. Lars E. Troide, Yale University Press (1978).
Originally written in 1787.)
Friendship is evanescent in every man's experience, and remembered like heat lightning in past summers.
(Henry David Thoreau (1817-1862), U.S. philosopher, author, naturalist. A Week on the Concord and Merrimack Rivers (1849), in The Writings of Henry David Thoreau, vol. 1, p. 277, Houghton Mifflin (1906).)
A healthy man, indeed, is the complement of the seasons, and in winter, summer is in his heart.
(Henry David Thoreau (1817-1862), U.S. philosopher, author, naturalist. "A Winter Walk" (1843), in The Writings of Henry David Thoreau, vol. 5, p. 168, Houghton Mifflin (1906).)
And so the seasons went rolling on into summer, as one rambles into higher and higher grass.
(Henry David Thoreau (1817-1862), U.S. philosopher, author, naturalist. Walden (1854), in The Writings of Henry David Thoreau, vol. 2, p. 351, Houghton Mifflin (1906).)