Other men wear white suits in summer and it doesn't seem to bother them. But my white suit seems to be a little whiter than theirs. I think also that it may have something written on the back of it, although I can't find it when I take the suit off.
(Robert Benchley (1889-1945), U.S. writer, humorist. My Ten Years in a Quandary and How They Grew, "My White Suit," Harper & Brothers (1936).)
The summer soldier and the sunshine patriot will, in this crisis, shrink from the service of his country; but he that stands it NOW deserves the love and thanks of man and woman.
(Thomas Paine (1737-1809), Anglo-American political theorist, writer. First published in Pennsylvania Journal (December 19, 1776). Introduction to the first of a series of pamphlets entitled "The American Crisis," (December 23, 1776).
George Washington ordered this paper to be read to his troops, December 26, 1776, on the eve of the Battle of Trenton, New Jersey.)
The people of Western Europe are facing this summer a series of tragic dilemmas. Of the hopes that dazzled the last twenty years that some political movement might tend to the betterment of the human lot, little remains above ground but the tattered slogans of the past.
(John Dos Passos (1896-1970), U.S. novelist, poet, playwright, painter. "Farewell To Europe," Common Sense (July 1937).)
Surely the fates are forever kind, though Nature's laws are more immutable than any despot's, yet to man's daily life they rarely seem rigid, but permit him to relax with license in summer weather. He is not harshly reminded of the things he may not do.
(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. 34, Houghton Mifflin (1906).)
The dearest events are summer-rain, and we the Para coats that shed every drop. Nothing is left us now but death. We look to that with grim satisfaction, saying, there at least is reality that will not dodge us.
(Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803-1882), U.S. essayist, poet, philosopher. "Experience," Essays, Second Series (1844).)
It enhances our sense of the grand security and serenity of nature to observe the still undisturbed economy and content of the fishes of this century, their happiness a regular fruit of the summer.
(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. 24, Houghton Mifflin (1906).)
Write about winter in the summer. Describe Norway as Ibsen did, from a desk in Italy; describe Dublin as James Joyce did, from a desk in Paris. Willa Cather wrote her prairie novels in New York City; Mark Twain wrote Huckleberry Finn in Hartford, Connecticut. Recently, scholars learned that Walt Whitman rarely left his room.
(Annie Dillard (b. 1945), U.S. author. The Writing Life, ch. 5 (1989).)