d15533d
|
Another secret of the universe: Sometimes pain was like a storm that came out of nowhere. The clearest summer could end in a downpour. Could end in lightning and thunder.
|
|
storm
summer
|
Benjamin Alire Sáenz |
5e61f74
|
What good is the warmth of summer, without the cold of winter to give it sweetness.
|
|
winter
life
opposites
summer
|
John Steinbeck |
89b8f15
|
The summer sun was not meant for boys like me. Boys like me belonged to the rain.
|
|
rain
summer
|
Benjamin Alire Sáenz |
aa204b4
|
O light! This is the cry of all the characters of ancient drama brought face to face with their fate. This last resort was ours, too, and I knew it now. In the middle of winter I at last discovered that there was in me an invincible summer.
|
|
winter
summer
|
Albert Camus |
745847b
|
My old grandmother always used to say, Summer friends will melt away like summer snows, but winter friends are friends forever.
|
|
winter
friendship
george-r-r-martin
summer
|
George R.R. Martin |
fc69efc
|
It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold: when it is summer in the light, and winter in the shade.
|
|
winter
wind
sun
summer
|
Charles Dickens |
ded3d9d
|
Summer will end soon enough, and childhood as well.
|
|
winter
summer
|
George R.R. Martin |
5ecfc23
|
Bees do have a smell, you know, and if they don't they should, for their feet are dusted with spices from a million flowers.
|
|
bradbury
summer
|
Ray Bradbury |
1ec3cb1
|
But when fall comes, kicking summer out on its treacherous ass as it always does one day sometime after the midpoint of September, it stays awhile like an old friend that you have missed. It settles in the way an old friend will settle into your favorite chair and take out his pipe and light it and then fill the afternoon with stories of places he has been and things he has done since last he saw you.
|
|
seasons
september
fall
summer
|
Stephen King |
674d159
|
Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass under trees on a summer's day, listening to the murmur of the water, or watching the clouds float across the sky, is by no means a waste of time.
|
|
time
nature
beauty
science
inspirational
clouds
grass
rest
idleness
trees
sky
water
summer
|
John Lubbock |
47a3605
|
Why is summer mist romantic and autumn mist just sad?
|
|
mist
summer
|
Dodie Smith |
9e22afa
|
If it could only be like this always - always summer, always alone, the fruit always ripe and Aloysius in a good temper...
|
|
teddy-bear
sebastian
summer
|
Evelyn Waugh |
fd3646d
|
The first week of August hangs at the very top of summer, the top of the live-long year, like the highest seat of a Ferris wheel when it pauses in its turning. The weeks that come before are only a climb from balmy spring, and those that follow a drop to the chill of autumn, but the first week of August is motionless, and hot. It is curiously silent, too, with blank white dawns and glaring noons, and sunsets smeared with too much color.
|
|
summer
|
Natalie Babbitt |
111623a
|
One benefit of Summer was that each day we had more light to read by.
|
|
summer
|
Jeannette Walls |
5e2eefa
|
[T]hat old September feeling, left over from school days, of summer passing, vacation nearly done, obligations gathering, books and football in the air ... Another fall, another turned page: there was something of jubilee in that annual autumnal beginning, as if last year's mistakes had been wiped clean by summer.
|
|
back-to-school
new-beginnings
september
fall
summer
|
Wallace Stegner |
e1d30cb
|
Even so, there were times I saw freshness and beauty. I could smell the air, and I really loved rock 'n' roll. Tears were warm, and girls were beautiful, like dreams. I liked movie theaters, the darkness and intimacy, and I liked the deep, sad summer nights.
|
|
sadness
darkness
music
movie-theatres
summer-nights
freshness
smell
rock-and-roll
girls
tears
summer
intimacy
|
Haruki Murakami |
77b27c2
|
Au milieu de l'hiver, j'apprenais enfin qu'il y avait en moi un ete invincible.
|
|
seasons
strength
hardship
self
summer
|
Albert Camus |
ce0da03
|
The first week of August hangs at the very top of the summer, the top of the live-long year, like the highest seat of a Ferris wheel when it pauses in its turning. The weeks that come before are only a climb from balmy spring, and those that follow a drop to the chill of autumn, but the first week of August is motionless, and hot. It is curiously silent, too, with blank white dawns and glaring noons, and sunsets smeared with too much color. Often at night there is lightning, but it quivers all alone. There is no thunder, no relieving rain. These are strange and breathless days, the dog days, when people are led to do things they are sure to be sorry for after.
|
|
regret
summer
|
Natalie Babbitt |
9570cbe
|
We can't possibly have a summer love. So many people have tried that the name's become proverbial. Summer is only the unfulfilled promise of spring, a charlatan in place of the warm balmy nights I dream of in April. It's a sad season of life without growth...It has no day.
|
|
august
charlatan
july
september
spring
june
summer
|
F. Scott Fitzgerald |
7187cf0
|
Summer's lease hath all too short a date.
|
|
summer
|
William Shakespeare |
caa0b68
|
Maycomb was a tired old town, even in 1932 when I first knew it. Somehow, it was hotter then. Men's stiff collars wilted by nine in the morning. Ladies bathed before noon after their three o'clock naps. And by nightfall were like soft teacakes with frosting from sweating and sweet talcum. The day was twenty-four hours long, but it seemed longer. There's no hurry, for there's nowhere to go and nothing to buy...and no money to buy it with.
|
|
south
small-town
summer
|
Harper Lee |
07852bf
|
The library in summer is the most wonderful thing because there you get books on any subject and read them each for only as long as they hold your interest, abandoning any that don't, halfway or a quarter of the way through if you like, and store up all that knowledge in the happy corners of your mind for your own self and not to show off how much you know or spit it back at your teacher on a test paper.
|
|
libraries
reading
summer
|
Polly Horvath |
9dac1d8
|
There was nothing like a Saturday - unless it was the Saturday leading up to the last week of school and into summer vacation. That of course was all the Saturdays of your life rolled into one big shiny ball.
|
|
vacation
summer
school
|
Nora Roberts |
64793bc
|
I wonder what it would be like to live in a world where it was always June.
|
|
summer
|
L. M. Montgomery |
5cabe7a
|
A week feels like a year when you're seventeen and in love. A twenty minute drive might as well be an ocean. But we were together again and the whole world was rejoicing, even the gravel crunched melodiously under our feet as we danced onward through the night.
|
|
happiness
love
summer
|
Chloe Rattray |
ace3411
|
I don't know how long I kept at it... I felt reasonably safe, streched out on the floor, and lay quite still. It didn't seem to be summer any more
|
|
floor
still
safe
sylvia-plath
summer
|
Sylvia Plath |
e53f0f9
|
The beauty of that June day was almost staggering. After the wet spring, everything that could turn green had outdone itself in greenness and everything that could even dream of blooming or blossoming was in bloom and blossom. The sunlight was a benediction. The breezes were so caressingly soft and intimate on the skin as to be embarrassing.
|
|
beauty-in-nature
sunshine
flowers
sunlight
summer
|
Dan Simmons |
1dd23a4
|
Autumn is leaving its mellowness behind for its spiky, rotted stage. Don't remember summer even saying goodbye.
|
|
summer
|
David Mitchell |
1fe848c
|
Summer was on the way; Jem and I awaited it with impatience. Summer was our best season: it was sleeping on the back screened porch in cots, or trying to sleep in the tree house; summer was everything good to eat; it was a thousand colors in a parched landscape; but most of all, summer was Dill.
|
|
inspirational
mockingbird
scout
landscape
season
summer
|
Harper Lee |
c71aef1
|
I do love the beginning of the summer hols,' said Julian. They always seem to stretch out ahead for ages and ages.' 'They go so nice and slowly at first,' said Anne, his little sister. 'Then they start to gallop.
|
|
time
gallop
summer-holidays
holidays
summer
|
Enid Blyton |
9b49984
|
A thin grey fog hung over the city, and the streets were very cold; for summer was in England.
|
|
seasons
fog
england
cold
summer
|
Rudyard Kipling |
2c5dfa3
|
One minute it was Ohio winter, with doors closed, windows locked, the panes blind with frost, icicles fringing every roof, children skiing on slopes, housewives lumbering like great black bears in their furs along the icy streets. And then a long wave of warmth crossed the small town. A flooding sea of hot air; it seemed as if someone had left a bakery door open. The heat pulsed among the cottages and bushes and children. The icicles dropped, shattering, to melt. The doors flew open. The windows flew up. The children worked off their wool clothes. The housewives shed their bear disguises. The snow dissolved and showed last summer's ancient green lawns. Rocket summer. The words passed among the people in the open, airing houses. Rocket summer. The warm desert air changing the frost patterns on the windows, erasing the art work. The skis and sleds suddenly useless. The snow, falling from the cold sky upon the town, turned to a hot rain before it touched the ground. Rocket summer. People leaned from their dripping porches and watched the reddening sky. The rocket lay on the launching field, blowing out pink clouds of fire and oven heat. The rocket stood in the cold winter morning, making summer with every breath of its mighty exhausts. The rocket made climates, and summer lay for a brief moment upon the land....
|
|
winter
spring
summer
|
Ray Bradbury |
429086e
|
Summer was our best season: it was sleeping on the back screened porch in cots, or trying to sleep in the treehouse; summer was everything good to eat; it was a thousand colors in a parched landscape; but most of all, summer was Dill.
|
|
summer
|
Harper Lee |
fd6d130
|
The girl was alluring. Like wildfire, or a summer storm swept off the Gulf of Oro.
|
|
celaena
wildfire
storm
summer
|
Sarah J. Maas |
3dfb8f3
|
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.
|
|
summer
|
Virginia Woolf |
4739929
|
Hot weather opens the skull of a city, exposing its white brain, and its heart of nerves, which sizzle like the wires inside a lightbulb. And there exudes a sour extra-human smell that makes the very stone seem flesh-alive, webbed and pulsing.
|
|
human
life
description
summer
city
|
Truman Capote |
5edf764
|
The end-of-summer winds make people restless.
|
|
summer
|
Sebastian Faulks |
c86d402
|
We read the pagan sacred books with profit and delight. With myth and fable we are ever charmed, and find a pleasure in the endless repetition of the beautiful, poetic, and absurd. We find, in all these records of the past, philosophies and dreams, and efforts stained with tears, of great and tender souls who tried to pierce the mystery of life and death, to answer the eternal questions of the Whence and Whither, and vainly sought to make, with bits of shattered glass, a mirror that would, in very truth, reflect the face and form of Nature's perfect self. These myths were born of hopes, and fears, and tears, and smiles, and they were touched and colored by all there is of joy and grief between the rosy dawn of birth, and death's sad night. They clothed even the stars with passion, and gave to gods the faults and frailties of the sons of men. In them, the winds and waves were music, and all the lakes, and streams, and springs,--the mountains, woods and perfumed dells were haunted by a thousand fairy forms. They thrilled the veins of Spring with tremulous desire; made tawny Summer's billowed breast the throne and home of love; filled Autumns arms with sun-kissed grapes, and gathered sheaves; and pictured Winter as a weak old king who felt, like Lear upon his withered face, Cordelia's tears. These myths, though false, are beautiful, and have for many ages and in countless ways, enriched the heart and kindled thought. But if the world were taught that all these things are true and all inspired of God, and that eternal punishment will be the lot of him who dares deny or doubt, the sweetest myth of all the Fable World would lose its beauty, and become a scorned and hateful thing to every brave and thoughtful man.
|
|
winter
perfection
shakespeare
true
grief
doubt
passion
nature
joy
fear
past
death
dreams
music
hope
life
love
truth
hateful
philosophies
religion-myths
scorn
sacred-books
brave
tender
fairy
haunted
pagan
king-lear
spring
woods
fable
poetic
mountains
lake
birth
smiles
deny
eternity
autumn
punishment
gods
effort
tears
questions
mystery
beautiful
throne
summer
thought
delight
william-shakespeare
pleasure
|
Robert G. Ingersoll |
ee53f6f
|
Some of us wear our hearts. Some of us carry them.
|
|
live
leigh-bardugo
eli-and-gracie
summer
|
Stephanie Perkins |
739338a
|
The castle grounds were gleaming in the sunlight as though freshly painted; the cloudless sky smiled at itself in the smoothly sparkling lake, the satin-green lawns rippled occasionally in a gentle breeze: June had arrived.
|
|
summer
|
J.K. Rowling |
4b652e5
|
Summer is the time for squabbles. In winter, we must protect one another, keep each other warm, share our strengths.
|
|
winter
warm
warmth
summer
|
George R.R. Martin |
e7ad1b8
|
The sidewalks were haunted by dust ghosts all night as the furnace wind summoned them up, swung them about, and gentled them down in a warm spice on the lawns. Trees, shaken by the footsteps of late-night strol- lers, sifted avalanches of dust. From midnight on, it seemed a volcano beyond the town was showering red-hot ashes every- where, crusting slumberless night watchmen and irritable dogs. Each house was a yellow attic smoldering with spon- taneous combustion at three in the morning. Dawn, then, was a time where things changed element for element. Air ran like hot spring waters nowhere, with no sound. The lake was a quantity of steam very still and deep over valleys of fish and sand held baking under its serene vapors. Tar was poured licorice in the streets, red bricks were brass and gold, roof tops were paved with bronze. The high- tension wires were lightning held forever, blazing, a threat above the unslept houses. The cicadas sang louder and yet louder. The sun did not rise, it overflowed.
|
|
heat
summer
|
Ray Bradbury |
05fa885
|
"In the summer heat the reapers say, "We have seen her dancing with the autumn leaves, and we saw a drift of snow in her hair."
|
|
seasons
winter
leaves
season
her
summer
snow
|
Kahlil Gibran |
bbb1da1
|
Today has been a day dropped out of June into April.
|
|
months
april
spring
june
summer
|
L.M. Montgomery |
528ff7b
|
It was summer and moonlight and we had lemonade to drink, and we held the cold glasses in our hands, and Dad read the stereo-newspapers inserted into the special hat you put on your head and which turned the microscopic page in front of the magnifying lens if you blinked three times in succession.
|
|
google-glass
minaturization
lemonade
newspapers
summer
technology
|
Ray Bradbury |
8c73465
|
August has passed, and yet summer continues by force to grow days. They sprout secretly between the chapters of the year, covertly included between its pages.
|
|
time
page-109
imagery
summer
|
Jonathan Safran Foer |
db5d494
|
Or maybe watching you enjoy a carefree summer while you fell in love was what kept me out of the hospital in the first place.
|
|
illness
love
steve
summer
|
Nicholas Sparks |
c6cf2e6
|
I looked at sky this morning and realized summer is almost gone which really made me sad because it doesn't seem as though its been here at all.
|
|
summer
sad
|
Beatrice Sparks |
a1ea514
|
There had once been a time when I'd dreaded the end of summer, had prayed it would hold out for as long as possible. Now the thought of endless warmth and sun made me . . . bored. Restless.
|
|
feyre
summer
|
Sarah J. Maas |
624ff37
|
Winter is coming, warned the Stark words, and truly it had come to them with a vengeance. But it is high summer for House Lannister. So why am I so bloody cold?
|
|
winter
coming
lannister
stark
vengeance
summer
|
George R.R. Martin |
304ba41
|
These marvels were great and comfortable ones, but in the old England there was a greater still. The weather behaved itself. In the spring all the little flowers came out obediently in the meads, and the dew sparkled, and the birds sang; in the summer it was beautifully hot for no less than four months, and, if it did rain just enough for agricultural purposes, they managed to arrange it so that it rained while you were in bed; in the autumn the leaves flamed and rattled before the west winds, tempering their sad adieu with glory; and in the winter, which was confined by statute to two months, the snow lay evenly, three feet thick, but never turned into slush.
|
|
seasons
winter
bucolic
old-times
spring
england
summer
weather
|
T.H. White |
deffa70
|
The West Indian is not exactly hostile to change, but he is not much inclined to believe in it. This comes from a piece of wisdom that his climate of eternal summer teaches him. It is that, under all the parade of human effort and noise, today is like yesterday, and tomorrow will be like today; that existence is a wheel of recurring patterns from which no one escapes; that all anybody does in this life is live for a while and then die for good, without finding out much; and that therefore the idea is to take things easy and enjoy the passing time under the sun. The white people charging hopefully around the islands these days in the noon glare, making deals, bulldozing airstrips, hammering up hotels, laying out marinas, opening new banks, night clubs, and gift shops, are to him merely a passing plague. They have come before and gone before.
|
|
existence
life
tropics
west-indies
summer
modernity
|
Herman Wouk |
b81ad50
|
Summer quiet thoughts on summer quiet noons.
|
|
thoughts
quiet
summer
|
Ray Bradbury |
f1f46d1
|
The warmly cool, clear, ringing, perfumed, overflowing, redundant days, were as crystal goblets of Persian sherbet, heaped up--flaked up, with rose-water snow.
|
|
sherbet
tropics
sailing
sea
summer
|
Herman Melville |
8a2c596
|
Eighth grade's a distant rumor, a tabled issue, and Dylan knows from experience that the summer between might change anything, everything. He and Mingus Rude too and even Arthur Lomb for that matter are released from the paint-by-numbers page of their schooldays, from their preformatted roles as truant or victim, freed to an unspoiled summer, that inviting medium for doodling in self-transformation.
|
|
vacation
summer
school
|
Jonathan Lethem |
b343a29
|
On days when it was too hot, they did not leave their room. The dazzling brilliance from outside plastered bars of light between the slats of the blinds. Not a sound in the village. Down below, on the sidewalk, no one. This spreading silence increased the tranquility of things. In the distance, the caulkers' hammers tamped the hulls, and a heavy breeze brought the smell of tar.
|
|
silence
relaxation
summer
|
Gustave Flaubert |
a5dfb02
|
Overhead hung a summer sky furrowed with the rush of rockets; and from the east a late moon, pushing up beyond the lofty bend of the coast, sent across the bay a shaft of brightness which paled to ashes in the red glitter of the illuminated boats.
|
|
nature
summer-nights
the-house-of-mirth
summer
|
Edith Wharton |
bd351aa
|
...TV was entertainment of the last resort. There was nothing on during the day in the summer other than game shows and soap operas. Besides, a TV-watching child was considered available for chores: take out the trash, clean your room, pick up that mess, fold those towels, mow the lawn... the list was endless. We all became adept at chore-avoidance. Staying out of sight was a reliable strategy. Drawing or painting was another: to my mother, making art trumped making beds. A third choir-avoidance technique was to read. A kid with his or her nose in a book is a kid who is not fighting, yelling, throwing, breaking things, bleeding, whining, or otherwise creating a Mom-size headache. Reading a book was almost like being invisible - a good thing for all concerned.
|
|
1960s-nostalgia
chores
growing-up
summer
nostalgia
|
Pete Hautman |
7c67009
|
It was the kind of summer evening that made Ursula want to be alone. 'Oh,' Izzie said, 'You're at an age when a girl is simply by the sublime.' Ursula wasn't sure what she meant ('No one is ever sure what she means,' Sylvie said) but she thought she understood a little. There was a strangeness in the shimmering air, a sense of that made Ursula's chest feel full, as if her heart was growing. It was a kind of high holiness - she could think of no other way of describing it. Perhaps it was the future, she thought, coming nearer all the time.
|
|
time
future
teenage-years
teenage-girl
summer
|
Kate Atkinson |
506fe17
|
June dawns, July noons, August evenings over, finished, done, and gone forever with only the sense of it all left here in his head. Now, a whole autumn, a white winter, a cool and greening spring to figure sums and totals of summer past. And if he should forget, the dandelion wine stood in the cellar, numbered huge for each and every day. He would go there often, stare straight into the sun until he could stare no more, then close his eyes and consider the burned spots, the fleeting scars left dancing on his warm eyelids; arranging, rearranging each fire and reflection until the pattern was clear... So thinking, he slept. And, sleeping, put an end to Summer, 1928.
|
|
dandelion-wine
summer
|
Ray Bradbury |
182e490
|
One day you discover you are alive. Explosion! Concussion! Illumination! Delight! You laugh, you dance around, you shout. But, not long after, the sun goes out. Snow falls, but no one sees it, on an August noon.
|
|
death
life
summer
|
Ray Bradbury |
15af29b
|
"Life is not divided into semesters. You don't get summers off and very
|
|
yourself
summer
|
Charles J. Sykes |
d1bbfec
|
It was a splendid summer morning and it seemed as if nothing could go wrong.
|
|
summer
|
John Cheever |
1f6e4f0
|
Summer would not last forever; he knew it and Ronia knew it. But now they began to live as if it would, and as far as possible they pushed away all painful thoughts of winter.
|
|
loneliness
happiness
denial
summer
|
Astrid Lindgren |
9ff4fc5
|
I propose a toast to mirth; be merry! Let us complete our course of law by folly and eating! Indigestion and the digest. let Justinian be the male, and Feasting, the female! Joy the depths! Live, O creation! The world is a great diamond. I am happy. The birds are astonishing. What a festival everywhere! The nightingale is a gratuitous Elleviou. Summer, I salute thee!
|
|
feasting
female
toast
summer
|
Victor Hugo |
d7c1a91
|
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.
|
|
autumn
summer
school
|
Jonathan Lethem |
2f4b1ba
|
"No," moaned Tom in despair. "School. School straight on ahead! Why, why do dime stores show things like that in windows before summer's even over! Ruin half the vacation!"
|
|
summer
school
|
Ray Bradbury |
573aba8
|
And they left the mellow light of the dandelion wine and went upstairs to carry out the last few rituals of summer, for they felt that now the final day, the final night had come. As the day grew late they realized that for two or three nights now, porches had emptied early of their inhabitants. The air hard a different, drier smell and Grandma was talking of hot coffee instead of iced tea; the open, white-flutter-curtained windows were closing in the great bays; cold cuts were giving way to steamed beef. The mosquitos were gone from the porch, and surely when they abandoned the conflict the war with Time was really done, there was nothing for it but that humans also forsake the battleground.
|
|
fall
summer
|
Ray Bradbury |
1ed01db
|
It was a quiet morning, the town covered over with darkness and at ease in bed. Summer gathered in the weather, the wind had the proper touch, the breathing of the world was long and warm and slow. You had only to rise, lean from your window, and know that this indeed was the first real time of freedom and living, this was the first morning of summer.
|
|
summer
|
Ray Bradbury |
7bf6283
|
And who thought it was a good idea to rent bicycles to Italian adolescent language students? If hell did exist, which Jackson was sure it did, it would be governed by a committee of fifteen-year-old Italian boys on bikes.
|
|
summer
|
Kate Atkinson |
078052c
|
How often had that hydrant even been opened? Did you jet water through a car window, what, twice at best? Summer burned just a few afternoons long, in the end. As for flying, Dose never even glanced at the sky. Flying was a summer within a summer, a whim. So why think of it at all?
|
|
summer
|
Jonathan Lethem |
54a54f2
|
In her mind's eye, they seemed to glimmer until the connections had so many ties that the world appeared to be brighter. It was a golden light in her mind.
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light
world
sunset
summer
ocean
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Sharon Brubaker |
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Silence. A summer-night silence which lay for a thousand miles, which covered the earth like a white and shadowy sea.
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silence
sea
summer
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Ray Bradbury |
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". . .and he has never
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summer
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Heinlein Robert A. |
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I never cared much for machinery. I could not see into their complications or feel interested in them. . . In sweet June weather I would lean far out of the window, and try not to hear the unceasing clash of sound inside.
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window
summer
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Howard Zinn |
0a197a8
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Gentle swells had replaced the angry waves of yesterday. The gentle breakers made their way to shore glinting with green as they somersaulted to shore. The waves showed an edge of lacy foam that caressed the sand. It was peaceful.
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beachtime
sand
selkie
selkie-women
summertime
shore
sea
summer
ocean
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Sharon Brubaker |
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After all, you can't force a friendship.
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friendship
idea
summer
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Ann M. Martin |
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"An Ashinabe "spring poem" translated by Gerald Vizenor: as my eyes look across the prairie i feel the summer in the spring"
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spring
summer
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Howard Zinn |
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Sitting in seat 14A, in the sun, I float on a full-moon, tidal joy unlike anything I've ever experienced. I am getting incredibly high on a single, astounding fact: that it's always sunny above the clouds. Always. That every day on Earth- every day I have ever had- was secretly sunny after all....I feel like I've just flown 600 miles per hour head-on into the most beautiful metaphor of my life: If you fly high enough, if you get above the clouds, it's never-ending summer.
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hope
summer
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Caitlin Moran |
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Lightning's echo comes as thunder. And the city waits for thunder's echo, for a wall of heat that burns Lahore with the energy of a thousand summers, a million partitions, a billion atomic souls split in half.
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rain
lahore
heat
summer
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Mohsin Hamid |
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The soles of her feet were summer-tough, numb to the jagged shells and bits of pinecone.
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summer
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Denise Hunter |
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Det var dagen efter sjalvstandighetsdagen den 4 juli och lukten av svavel fran fyrverkerierna blandade sig med lukten av salt fran havet - det var sommar.
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summer
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Gillian Flynn |
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"Summer in Honolulu brings the sweet smell of mangoes, guava, and passionfruit, ripe for picking; it arbors the streets with the fiery red umbrellas of poincianta trees and decorates the sidewalks with the pink and white puffs of blossoming monkeypods. Cooling trade winds prevail all summer, bringing what the old Hawaiians called makani 'olu' 'olu--- "fair wind"."
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honolulu
tropical-paradise
summer
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Alan Brennert |
288d117
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There, on the far side of of the Atlantic, would be Maine, but despite the shared ocean, her island and this one were worlds apart. Where Inishmaan was gray and brown, its fragile man-made soil supporting only the hardiest of low-growing plants, the fertile Quinnipeague invited tall pines in droves, not to mention vegetables, flowers, and improbable, irrepressible herbs. Lifting her head, eyes closed now, she breathed in the damp Irish air and the bit of wood smoke that drifted on the cold ocean wind. Quinnipeague smelled of wood smoke, too, since early mornings there could be chilly, even in summer. But the wood smoke would clear by noon, giving way to the smell of lavender, balsam, and grass. If the winds were from the west, there would be fry smells from the Chowder House; if from the south, the earthiness of the clam flats; if from the northeast, the purity of sweet salt air.
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nature
charlotte-evans
maine-woods
scents
maine
quinnipeague
summer
weather
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Barbara Delinsky |