1,629 Quotes About Summer

Summer for prose and lemons, for nakedness and languor,

The funny thing is, last summer we were golfing together, me, him and Alonzo [Mourning]. I don't know how to golf, but it's an unbelievable opportunity to go out and golf with one of the greats. And he's out there making fun of my swing - I can't hit the ball - and I'm getting frustrated because I'm a competitor. So Alonzo pulled me aside and said, 'Man, you're getting the chance to golf with Bill Russell. How many people can say they've done that?' And I looked at him and said, 'You know what? You're right.'

I'm the kind of parent who asks my kids questions like, 'What would be your ideal thing to do in the summer?'

We play the whole summer. I do think guys should be compensated. Just like I think college players should be compensated as well. Unfortunately, it's not there. But I think it should be something, you know, there for it.

Early summer days are a jubilee time for birds. In the fields, around the house, in the barn, in the woods, in the swamp - everywhere love and songs and nests and eggs.

I'm a big fan of London in the summertime. English people are dependent on weather to change our attitudes, and, provided it's a decent summer, everyone's spirits are uplifted and the whole place is in bloom. It's a magical transformation. London in the summer, going to see bands play outside, watching football.

The winter will be short, the summer long, The autumn amber-hued, sunny and hot, Tasting of cider and of scuppernong; All seasons sweet, but autumn best of all. The squirrels in their silver fur will fall Like falling leaves, like fruit, before your shot.

Oxford, in those days, was still a city of aquatint. In her spacious and quiet streets men walked and spoke as they had done in Newman's day; her autumnal mists, her grey springtime, and the rare glory of her summer days - such as that day - when the chestnut was in flower and the bells rang out high and clear over her gables and cupolas, exhaled the soft airs of centuries of youth. It was this cloistral hush which gave our laughter its resonance, and carried it still, joyously, over the intervening clamour.

How ungenerously in later life we disclaim the virtuous moods of our youth, living in retrospect long, summer days of unreflecting dissipation.