Best 1928 quotes in «summer quotes» category

He liked to listen to the silence, he said, if silence could be listened to, for he went on, in that silence you could hear wildflower pollen sifting down the bee-fried air, by God, the bee-fried air! Listen! the waterfall of birdsong being those trees!

He looks shocked, and worse. He looks like he’s on the brink of breaking down completely.", Loving Summer by Kailin Gow

He looked at me now. "Remember I said, 'what if I didn't want to fix your bike?'" I remembered. "Yes..." "I didn't want to fix it, because I liked driving you places.

Her dad turned to me. "You. Follow Me." "Woof," I said.

Here, Earth-born, over the lilt of the water, Lisping its music and bearing a burden of light, Bosoming day as a laughing and radiant daughter… Here we may whisper unheard, unafraid of the night. Walking alone…was it splendor, or what, we were bound with? Deep in the time when summer lets down her hair? Shadows we loved and the patterns they covered the ground with Tapestries, mystical, faint in the breathless air.

Her fragility makes her uncomfortable, but it has a familiarity, too, like the biting cold of winter that you only half forget during other seasons.

Her legs swing complete afternoons away.

Her love was like endless summer nights -unforgettable.

He sighed profoundly, and flung himself - there was a passion in his movements which deserves the word - on the earth at the foot of the oak tree. He loved, beneath all this summer transiency, to feel the earth's spine beneath him; for such he took the hard root of the oak tree to be; or, for image followed image, it was the back of a great horse that he was riding; or the deck of a tumbling ship - it was anything indeed, so long as it was hard, for he felt the need of something which he could attach his floating heart to; the heart that tugged at his side; the heart that seemed filled with spiced and amorous gales every evening about this time when he walked out. To the oak tree he tied it and as he lay there, gradually the flutter in and about him stilled itself; the little leaves hung, the deer stopped; the pale summer clouds stayed; his limbs grew heavy on the ground; and he lay so still that by degrees the deer stopped nearer and the rooks wheeled round him and the swallows dipped and circled and the dragonflies shot past, as if all the fertility and amorous activity of a summer's evening were woven web-like about his body.

He sighed, then said, "So basically, you're stalking her." "I am NOT stalking her." I insisted. "That's where you come in. If I followed her by myself, someone who did not understand the situation and did not realize that I am so responsible-" McGillicuddy snorted. "- might mistake what I am doing for stalking. However, her big brother is with me. Therefore we are protecting her.

He slid over to me and grabbed me closer to him. My smile fell from my face with the unexpectedness of it. His hands cupped my face, his lips hovering above mine. “You seriously want to know, Tess?” He closed the space and claimed my mouth with an urgent, hot, delving kiss. He smiled. “You are sexy, in your own goofball way, you’re sweet and beautiful and smart and funny and, although you kiss to the point where I feel like I want to go back for seconds, you’re my best friend, and that’s why I don’t want to tap that.

Hey, I just thought of something." "What?" "When we're together, we make one whole Italian.

Hey!” I wave my index finger in his face, “No shitting on pop music. Everyone needs some light, fun, sexy pop music. It’s summer, and that right there, is the perfect summer song. It’s hot.” “You’re right, it is hot,” he says, scanning my body with his eyes.

His hot and bothered body of sweat felt refreshing against my flesh, like the water beads on a frosty Mason jar of lemonade the summer of my first blush with self-rule and release, even though it was February.

I am but a firefly caught in his jar and when he looks at me, I can’t help but glow.

However, although you might think this is the time of year to take some time off, you must never transgress one of the allotment rules: 'Thou shan't go on holiday in summer!

I am cold, even though the heat of early summer is adequate. I am cold because I cannot find my heart.

I am happy to experience beauty of each season; spring time, summer, autumn and winter.

i am permanently tanned in the summer of poetry.

I believe someone made a grievous mistake when summer was created; no novitiate or god in their right mind would make a season akin to hell on purpose. Someone should be fired.

I am sure I have summer depression; the heat makes me instantly regret being alive.

I can compete with a lot of things, but a whole lifetime’s worth of crush isn’t one of them.", Loving Summer by Kailin Gow

Iced tea! Nothing is half so refreshing as a glass of black tea piled high with ice! More than a quencher of thirst, it is a tamer of tempers, a lifter of lethargy, and a brightener of smiles. It is a taste of Winter’s chill, magically trapped in midsummer’s glass.

I checked the big silver-and-white wall clock. It was the centerpiece in a construction-paper design that said: TIME IS PASSING. WILL YOU? FOCUS! The O in focus was the clock.

I don’t want Summer to be the girl who might have been. I don’t care if that makes things difficult. I don’t care if Rachel will kill me for it. I’m not going to miss this chance. I’m going to do whatever I have to do to be with her. ", Drew Donovan in Loving Summer by Kailin Gow

I could taste the salt on her lips, each kiss like a summer wave breaking on an empty beach.

I'd had kisses. Rushed, wet, tasting of beer, right out in the open. I'd messed around with a funny sophomore in my anthropology seminar and a shy journalism grad student, and while these nights were satisfying in their way, the pleasure didn't last past 2:00 am. I missed patience, the sweet, smoky taste of scotch. And the gut thrum of the forbidden. Instead of obscuring my memory of him, the hours I spent with boys at school slid to the edges and collected around it, like a frame.

I'd love to wake up to complete silence, white sheets, and the smell of crisp air and roses.

I don’t think I’ve ever referred to any girl I dated as my girlfriend. I think that would freak me out. Even the girl that I dated for two years in college I don’t think I ever referred to her as my girlfriend.” “How would you introduce her?” I asked. “I’m just going to say her name,” he said.

I dream of the summers we kissed, winters we missed, spring that blossomed, withering of the autumn, with hope in my heart, I dream of getting you back.

I feel like a blind man searching a dark room. (Old Man Alone on Labor Day Weekend -- blog post)

I felt drunk on Chase and high on summertime. Why did that sound just like a country song?

I feel the fluttering of dragonflies—summer creatures that have no use for words.

I felt like summer had taken me over.

I felt like summer sunsets or July fireworks or chasing down the ice cream truck.

If I had to describe the scent of Michigan in spring and summer, it wouldn't be a particular smell – blooming wildflowers or boat exhaust off the lake – it would be a color: Green.

If I don't make it to heaven, at least I know what hell feels like with this heat!

If. If Mingus Rude could be kept in this place, kept somehow in Dylan's pocket, in his stinging, smudgy hands, then summer wouldn't give way to whatever came after. If. If. Fat chance. Summer on Dean Street had lasted one day and that day was over, it was dark out, had been for hours. The Williamsburg Savings Bank tower clock read nine-thirty in red-and-blue neon. Final score, a million to nothing. The million-dollar kid. Your school wasn't on fire, you were.

If he were only interested in me for one thing, he’d have moved on when it didn’t go perfectly the first time.", Loving Summer by Kailin Gow

If I shut my eyes it returns: the evocation of a whole wood, a whole world of wood-darkness and flowers and birds and late summer silence, of a million leaves turning mellowly to death. It becomes then more than the mere memory of a wood, the first and the best wood I have ever known. It is the redistillation of another and more lovely world.

I guess it depends on whether you want perfect. I hear some girls prefer their boyfriends a little more flawed and troubled.”, Loving Summer by Kailin Gow

If you can’t cope with that, then that’s your problem, not mine.", Summer Jones in Loving Summer by Kailin Gow

If you're a follower of Jesus, He has given you abundance so that you can care for others, not so you can stock up on capri pants for next summer or afford a leather interior in the new SUV. As long as you don't own the responsibility of being blessed with resources so that you can give to those around you, then you can stay focused on getting more for yourself.

I got the idea of Loving from a manservant in the Fire Service during the war. He was serving with me in the ranks, and he told me he had once asked the elderly butler who was over him what the old boy most liked in the world. The reply was: 'Lying in bed on a summer morning, with the window open, listening to the church bells, eating buttered toast with cunty fingers.' I saw the book in a flash.

I had a dream about you. You were a stranger playing a gig in this pub where I was waitressing. I felt like I knew you or needed to, so I asked you to have a few drinks with me. Then my alarm went off. I sat up in bed to see you still sleeping. I’m glad I decided to wear a kilt that summer while I was in school.

If June was the beginning of a hopeful summer, and July the juice middle, August was suddenly feeling like the bitter end.

I found my mind wandering at games; loved boxing and was good at it; and in summer, having chosen rowing instead of cricket, lay peacefully by the Stour, well upstream of the rhythmic creaking and the exhortation, reading Lily Christine and Gibbon and gossiping with kindred lotus-eaters under the willow-branches.

If someone rescues someone, the reader expects that one of three things will happen. What are the three things? Right. Well, they can become best friends, they can fall in love, or...they'll end up killing them. Which of the three do you think happens for us? We'll have to wait and see I guess. But I'm really hoping I don't kill you; I look horrible in orange.

If there is one thing worse than self-pity, it was other people's pity.

If you're a follower of Jesus, He has given you abundance so that you can care for others, not so you can stock up on capri pants for next summer or afford a leather interior in the new SUV.