Best 1928 quotes in «summer quotes» category

Do you know what a pearl is and what an opal is? My soul when you came sauntering to me first through those sweet summer evenings was beautiful but with the pale passionless beauty of a pearl. Your love has passed through me and now I feel my mind something like an opal, that is, full of strange uncertain hues and colours, of warm lights and quick shadows and of broken music.

Do you know what the title was of the Pope, which ought to be used? Servant of the servants of God. It's a little different from the stars. Stars are beautiful to look at. I like to look at them in the summer when the sky is clear. But the Pope must be, must be the servant of the servants of God.

Do you remember the summer we signed you up for camp? And the night before you left, you said you've changed your mind and wanted to stay home? I told you to to get a seat on the left side of the bus, so when you pulled away, you'd be able to look back and see me there waiting for you." I press her hand against my cheek, hard enough to leave a mark. "You get that same seat in Heaven. One where you can watch me, watching you.

Drunkards of summer are quite as frequent as Drunkards of wine.

During the summer of 2009, conservative activists turned up the heat on Democratic politicians to protest the innovation-destroying, liberty-usurping Obamacare mandate. In the summer of 2012, it's squishy Republican politicians who deserve the grassroots flames.

Each summer, for example, nitrogen and phosphate washing from farmlands in the Mississippi Valley enter the Gulf of Mexico, creating a massive algal bloom covering some 16,000 square kilometers. As the blooms die off, this area-roughly the size of New Jersey-is so deprived of oxygen that no fish survive.

Each place its own mind, its own psyche! Oak, Madrone, Douglas fir, red-tailed hawk, serpentine in the sandstone, a certain scale to the topography, drenching rains in the winters, fog off-shore in the summers, salmon surging up the streams - all these together make up a particular state of mind, a place-specific intelligence shared by all the humans that dwell therein, but also by the coyotes yapping in those valleys, by the bobcats and the ferns and the spiders, by all beings who live and make their way in that zone. Each place its own psyche. Each sky its own blue.

Eight months later, having left Columbia, I was studying physics in a summer program and working in Colorado when I decided to enroll as a graduate student in biophysics.

Ere, in the northern gale, The summer tresses of the trees are gone, The woods of Autumn, all around our vale, Have put their glory on.

Even at summer time, I'm still jacket shopping. I've always found that if you find a really nice leather jacket you kind of just go with it because they're timeless.

Even if I had stayed she wouldn't have ever wanted me. She didn't want me for anything more than a summer fling. I was a way of moving on for her.

Every day, I walk with my dog - summer, winter (it gets -20 F in Saint Paul), rain or shine. The nicer the day, of course, the longer the walk.

Every spring he vowed to quit teaching school, and every summer he missed his pupils and searched for them on the streets.

Every summer Lin Kong returned to Goose Village to divorce his wife, Shuyu.

Everything good, everything magical happens between the months of June and August. Winters are simply a time to count the weeks until the next summer

Every summer my husband and I pack our suitcases, load our kids into the car, and drive from tense, crowded New York City to my family's cottage in Maine. It's on an island, with stretches of sea and sandy beaches, rocky coasts, and pine trees. We barbecue, swim, lie around, and try to do nothing.

Everything comes to an end. A good bottle of wine, a summer’s day, a long-running sitcom, one’s life, and eventually our species. The question for many of us is not that everything will come to an end but when. And can we do anything vaguely useful until it does?

Every summer, around late July and into August, I find myself in Europe, performing at any festival that will have me.

Everything ends eventually. I guess that's what makes summer so intense, this feeling that it lasts for only a a short while and then it's back to reality.

Everything in nature is lyrical in its ideal essence, tragic in its fate, and comic in its existence.

Everything is beautiful in it's own way. Like the starry summer night, or a snow-covered winter's day. And everybody's beautiful in their own way. Under God's heaven, the world's gonna find the way.

Every time I look down on this timeless town Whether blue or gray be her skies. Whether loud be her cheers or soft be her tears, More and more do I realize: I love Paris in the springtime. I love Paris in the fall. I love Paris in the winter when it drizzles, I love Paris in the summer when it sizzles. I love Paris every moment, Every moment of the year. I love Paris, why, oh why do I love Paris? Because my love is near.

Every year when I put away my winter clothes and get out my summer clothes, they fit. And I haven't been on a diet since the Reagan administration.

Experience life in all possible ways -- good-bad, bitter-sweet, dark-light, summer-winter. Experience all the dualities. Don't be afraid of experience, because the more experience you have, the more mature you become.

Falling in love with you in the Summer Garden in the white nights in Leningrad is the moment that propels me through life.

Fancy your having no sunshine in London yesterday! Here it was glorious, like full summer, and I sat up with the window wide open, listening to the discourse of two amorous thrushes.

February, when the days of winter seem endless and no amount of wistful recollecting can bring back any air of summer.

Fishing books , lit by emotion recollected in tranquility, are like poetry. .. . We do not think of them as books but as men. They are our companions and not only riverside. Summer and winter they are with us and what a pleasant company they are.

Flies are the price we pay for summer.

Fog and smog should not be confused and are easily separated by color. Fog is about the color of the insides of an old split wet summer cottage mattress; smog is the color and consistency of a wet potato chip soaked in a motorman’s glove.

For a long time, I'd been vaguely fascinated by the idea that Charles Lindbergh flew the Atlantic and Babe Ruth hit 60 home runs in the same summer.

For a moment there I convinced myself I had my back against a wall, and suddenly the only wall I find my back against is that of a 10 by 10 writing shack in Glendale, where the summer days average between 90 and 100 and each song can be quantified in the sweat it took to write it. There is no ac in hell, and sometimes you've got to get down to get up. The train is gaining speed I should think.

For Beatrice, summer without you is as cold as winter. Winter without you, is even colder.

For a while last summer I was depressed because nothing was happening. It got to the point where people like me were getting films, so I decided to focus on stand-up. It kind of saved my life. I hate to be that dramatic, but I got a girlfriend and refocused my life on being more real and living a regular life rather than pursuing this other false goal of television and movie stardom.

For context, the budget of Don Jon is about half the budget of (500) Days of Summer. And (500) Days of Summer is about a third of the budget of the lowest-budget movies produced at a major studio.

For example, I was a White House intern the summer before I dropped out of law school. Everybody knew about it. I'd come home and go to church and everybody would say, oh, my God. Demetri, you're working at the White House.

For example, when I was writing Leviathan, which was written both in New York and in Vermont - I think there were two summers in Vermont, in that house I wrote about in Winter Journal, that broken-down house... I was working in an out-building, a kind of shack, a tumble-down, broken-down mess of a place, and I had a green table. I just thought, "Well, is there a way to bring my life into the fiction I'm writing, will it make a difference?" And the fact is, it doesn't make any difference. It was a kind of experiment which couldn't fail.

For him in vain the envious seasons roll Who bears eternal summer in his soul.

For many years I enjoyed the pleasure of cruising on my yacht all summer long and these were my best holidays. In mid-May, we'd start in St Tropez. I'd collect my bikinis from my home there and then we'd go up to Cannes for the Film Festival, on to Monte Carlo for the Grand Prix and then to Italy.

For my Oxford degree, I had to translate French and German philosophy (as it turned out, Descartes and Kant) at sight without a dictionary. That meant Germany for my first summer vacation, to learn the thorny language on my own.

For some reason our lives were marked by summers. . . . Summer was the time when our lives joined completely, when we all had our birthdays, when really important things happened

For summer there, bear in mind, is a loitering gossip, that only begins to talk of leaving when September rises to go.

For teachers, getting annual test scores several months after taking the test and in most cases long after the students have departed for the summer sends a message: Here's the data that would have helped you improve your teaching based on the needs of these students if you would have had it in time, but since it's late and there's nothing you can do about it, we'll just release it to the newspapers so they can editorialize again about how bad our schools are.

For the first time in a long time, I actually look at her. I've always thought Lena was pretty, but now it occurs to me that at some point - last summer? last year? - she became beautiful.

For those of us who worry more about working people than about windfall profits for oil companies, it may net out. A better question is: what does it do to our economy if we manage to overheat the earth? This summer's drought provides a small taste.

For well-being and health, again, the homestead should be airy in summer, and sunny in winter. A homestead possessing these qualities would be longer than it is deep; and its main front would face the south.

Four Seasons fill the measure of the year; There are four seasons in the mind of man: He has his lusty Spring, when fancy clear Takes in all beauty with an easy span: He has his Summer, when luxuriously Spring's honey'd cud of youthful thought he loves To ruminate, and by such dreaming high Is nearest unto heaven: quiet coves His soul has in its Autumn, when his wings He furleth close; contented so to look On mists in idleness—to let fair things Pass by unheeded as a threshold brook. He has his Winter too of pale misfeature, Or else he would forego his mortal nature.

France has neither winter, nor summer, nor morals. France is miserable because it is filled with Frenchmen, and Frenchmen are miserable because they live in France.

Freeze, freeze in the winter, if you really want to appreciate the summer! Walk, walk at the edge of the precipices, if you rightly want to learn the meaning of the safety! Switch the lights off, if you want to see the amazing beauty of the light!

From 1971 onwards, the Memorial Day holiday was officially observed on the last Monday in May and became the unofficial start of the summer, with barbecues, blockbuster movie openings and mattress sales.