Top 49 Quotes About June Summer
#1. Green was the silence, wet was the light,
the month of June trembled like a butterfly.
Pablo Neruda
#2. Long drawn, the cool, green shadows
Steal o'er the lake's warm breast,
And the ancient silence follows
The burning sun to rest. The calm of a thousand summers,
And dreams of countless Junes,
Return when the lake-wind murmurs
Through golden August noons.
William Braithwaite
#3. Under the snowdrifts the blossoms are sleeping, Dreaming their dreams of sunshine and June, Down in the hush of their quiet they're keeping Trills from the throstle's wild summer-sung tune.
Harriet Elizabeth Prescott Spofford
#4. In these divine pleasures permitted to me of walks in the June night under moon and stars, I can put my life as a fact before me and stand aloof from its honor and shame.
Ralph Waldo Emerson
#6. 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
Jenny Han
#7. I rented a summer home in the winter on Long Island, I took long walks, and then I ended up moving to Woodstock. It was a fertile musical area and time, and I played with a lot of different musicians there, including getting into women's music, and I ended up playing with Cris Williamson.
June Millington
#8. Summer is not obligatory. We can start an infernally hard jigsaw puzzle in June with the knowledge that, if there are enough rainy days, we may just finish it by Labor Day, but if not, there's no harm, no penalty. We may have better things to do.
Nancy Gibbs
#9. If June was the beginning of a hopeful summer, and July the juice middle, August was suddenly feeling like the bitter end.
Sarah Dessen
#10. For summer there, bear in mind, is a loitering gossip, that only begins to talk of leaving when September rises to go.
George Washington Cable
#11. Two Seasons, it is said, exist-
The Summer of the Just,
And this of Ours, diversified
With Prospect, and with Frost-
May not our Second with its First
So infinite compare
That We but recollect the one
The other to prefer?
Emily Dickinson
#12. All through June the writing course had stretched before me like a bright, safe bridge over the dull gulf of summer. Now I saw it totter and dissolve, and a body in a white blouse and green skirt plummet into the gap.
Sylvia Plath
#13. It was the twenty-first of June and Bitsy announced a Summer Solstice party.
Julia Fierro
#14. There's this magical sense of possibility that stretches like a bridge between June and August. A sense that anything can happen.
Aimee Friedman
#15. June falls asleep upon her bier of flowers;
In vain are dewdrops sprinkled o'er her,
In vain would fond winds fan her back to life,
Her hours are numbered on the floral dial.
Lucy Larcom
#16. 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.
J.K. Rowling
#17. The summer morn is bright and fresh, the birds are darting by. As if they loved to breast the breeze that sweeps the cool clear sky.
William C. Bryant
#19. Tell you what I like the best -
'Long about knee-deep in June,
'Bout the time strawberries melts
On the vine, - some afternoon
Like to jes' git out and rest,
And not work at nothin' else!
James Whitcomb Riley
#20. And Summer, dear Summer, hath years of June,
With large white clouds, and cool showers at noon;
And a beauty that grows to a weight like grief,
Till a burst of tears is the heart's relief.
George MacDonald
#21. And let them pass, as they will too soon,
With the bean-flowers' boon,
And the blackbird's tune,
And May, and June!
Robert Browning
#22. I realized
June had never been
just a month
music...
never just a tremble
on my lips
warmth was never
merely a blanket.
Sanober Khan
#23. She acts like summer and walks like rain
Reminds me that there's a time to change
Since the return from her stay on the moon
She listens like spring and she talks like June.
Train
#24. On a June day, a young woman in a summer dress steps off a Chicago-bound bus into a small midwestern town. She doesn't intend to stay. She is just passing through. Yet her stopping here has a reason and it is part of a story that you will never forget.
Danielle Steel
#25. And Quentin had never known how the Maze was redrawn over the summer, but apparently every year in June the groundskeeper goaded the topiary animals into such a feeding frenzy that they fell upon and devoured each other in a kind of ghastly slow-motion vegetarian holocaust.
Lev Grossman
#26. Heed not the night;
A summer lodge amid the wild is mine,
'Tis shadowed by the tulip-tree,
'Tis mantled by the vine.
William C. Bryant
#27. I loved you when love was Spring, and May, Loved you when summer deepened into June, and now when autumn yellows all the leaves ...
Vita Sackville-West
#28. Summer
The seasons between spring and autumn, comprising in the Northern Hemisphere
the warmest months of the year: June, July and August.
The period of finest development, perfection, or beauty previous to any decline; the summer of life.
Cecelia Ahern
#29. We'll meet again in Lvov, my love and I ... Tatiana hums, eating her ice cream, in our Leningrad, in jasmine June, near Fontanka, the Neva, the Summer Garden, where we are forever young.
Paullina Simons
#30. 'Warm in December, cold in June, you say?'
I don't suppose the water's changed at all.
You and I know enough to know it's warm
Compared with cold, and cold compared with warm.
But all the fun's in how you say a thing.
Robert Frost
#31. What was your favorite day of the year? The summer solstice. June twenty-first. The longest day of the year.
Amor Towles
#32. A bird in the boughs sang "June,"
And "June" hummed a bee
In a Bacchic glee
As he tumbled over and over
Drunk with the honey-dew.
Clinton Scollard
#33. I wonder what it would be like to live in a world where it was always June.
L.M. Montgomery
#35. Occasionally I have come across a last patch of snow on top of a mountain in late May or June. There's something very powerful about finding snow in summer.
Andy Goldsworthy
#36. It was June, and the world smelled of roses. The sunshine was like powdered gold over the grassy hillside.
Maud Hart Lovelace
#37. Come clean with a child heart
Laugh as peaches in the summer wind
Let rain on a house roof be a song
Let the writing on your face
be a smell of apple orchards on late June.
Carl Sandburg
#38. Do you recall that night in June
Upon the Danube River;
We listened to the landler-tune,
We watched the moonbeams quiver.
Charles Hamilton Aide
#39. No price is set on the lavish summer;
June may be had by the poorest comer.
James Russell Lowell
#40. There is a Zone whose even Years
No Solstice interrupt -
Whose Sun constructs perpetual Noon
Whose perfect Seasons wait -
Whose Summer set in Summer, till
The Centuries of June
And Centuries of August cease
And Consciousness - is Noon.
Emily Dickinson
#41. I've officially turned into a loser," she whispered cynically. "I'm looking forward to going home and having cereal for dinner and walking Mitchell and studying a little and then going to sleep. I've had my 'going out and having fun' quota for the year, I guess, and it's June.
Daniel Amory
#42. A happy soul, that all the way
To heaven hath a summer's day.
Richard Crashaw
#43. Thinking these things made space and time around her, the way saying 'only June' had when she was a child hoarding summer.
Zibby Oneal
#44. Between July 1942 and June 1943, only 4,705 Jews were admitted to the United States - fewer than the number of Warsaw Jews who were killed on a given day at Treblinka in summer 1942.
Timothy Snyder
#45. Long about knee-deep in June,
'Bout the time strewberries melts
On the vine.
James Whitcomb Riley
#46. What is one to say about June, the time of perfect young summer, the fulfillment of the promise of the earlier months, and with as yet no sign to remind one that its fresh young beauty will ever fade.
Gertrude Jekyll
#47. June brings tulips, lilies, roses,
Fills the children's hands with posies.
Sara Coleridge
#48. In June we picked the clover,
And sea-shells in July:
There was no silence at the door,
No word from the sky.
A hand came out of August
And flicked his life away:
We had not time to bargain, mope,
Moralize, or pray.
Cecil Day-Lewis
#49. Summer is a promissory note signed in June, its long days spent and gone before you know it, and due to be repaid next January.
Hal Borland
