A Quote by William Shakespeare

The summer's flower is to the summer sweet Though to itself it only live and die — © William Shakespeare
The summer's flower is to the summer sweet Though to itself it only live and die
The summer's flow'r is to the summer sweet, Though to itself it only live and die' But if that flow'r with base infection meet, The basest weed outbraves his dignity: For sweetest things turn sourest by their deeds; Lilies that fester smell far worse than weeds.
I fell for her in summer, my lovely summer girl, From summer she is made, my lovely summer girl, I’d love to spend a winter with my lovely summer girl, But I’m never warm enough for my lovely summer girl, It’s summer when she smiles, I’m laughing like a child, It’s the summer of our lives; we’ll contain it for a while She holds the heat, the breeze of summer in the circle of her hand I’d be happy with this summer if it’s all we ever had.
Sweet, sweet burn of sun and summer wind, and you my friend, my new fun thing, my summer fling.
Summer was here again. Summer, summer, summer. I loved and hated summers. Summers had a logic all their own and they always brought something out in me. Summer was supposed to be about freedom and youth and no school and possibilities and adventure and exploration. Summer was a book of hope. That's why I loved and hated summers. Because they made me want to believe.
Autumn truly is what summer pretends to be: the best of all seasons. It is as glorious as summer is tedious; as subtle as summer is obvious; as refreshing as summer is wearying. Autumn seems like paradise.
It was a heavenly summer, the summer in which France fell and the British Expeditionary Force was evacuated from Dunkirk. Leaves were never such an intense and iridescent green; sunlight glinted on flower-studded meadows as the Germans encircled the Maginot Line and overran not only France but Belgium and Holland. Birdsong filled the air in the lull between bursts of gunfire and accompanied the fleeing refugees who blocked the roads. It was as though the weather was preparing a glorious requiem for the death of Europe.
'Sweet Summer Day' was inspired by wanting to write the perfect summer song! Both Chaeyoung and myself had ideas for lyrics, and the song formed naturally!
'Boys of Summer,' to me, is like the end of the summer, man. That heartbreaking feeling where you have to go back to school, your summer love is coming to an end, and the leaves are changing. That was always such an emotional time for me as a kid, because I loved summer so much.
She, though in full-blown flower of glorious beauty, Grows cold even in the summer of her age.
I didn't sleep much in the summer of '98. Was getting ready to move to New York City. Start a band. That was a madman's summer. A summer of change.
Swedish people live for the summer - it transforms everyone. I don't want to miss having a Swedish summer vacation for as long as I live. It's my favorite thing in the world.
You are afraid to die?' Yes, everyone is.' But to die as lovers may - to die together, so that they may live together. Girls are caterpillars when they live in the world, to be finally butterflies when the summer comes; but in the meantime there are grubs and larvae, don't you see - each with their peculiar propensities, necessities and structures.
We should enjoy this summer, flower by flower, as if it were to be the last one we’ll see.
I still consider it a summer job, though. So, I try to maintain that summer job as long as I can. But it's exciting to be able to have the opportunity to do things I always dreamed of as a kid.
I love going to the movies, whitewater rafting in the summer when I am home in Idaho, biking in the summer in Idaho, paddle boarding in the summer.
A summer breeze can be very refreshing; but if we try to put it in a tin can so we can have it entirely to ourselves, the breeze will die. Our beloved is the same. He is like a breeze, a cloud, a flower. If you imprison him in a tin can, he will die. Yet many people do just that. They rob their loved one of his liberty, until he can no longer be himself. They live to satisfy themselves and use their loved one to help them fulfill that. That is not loving; it is destroying.
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