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From reflective musings on warm days fading.
Into fall to inspirational sayings about embracing change.
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The tans will fade but the memories will last forever
Summer’s lease hath all too short a date.
The summer ends and we wonder where we are.
There is no ‘we’ in summer. Only ‘u’ and ‘me’.
Roll out those lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer.
End Of Summer Quotes
Sun is shining. Weather is sweet. Make you wanna move your dancing feet. – Bob Marley
Sweet, sweet burn of sun and summer wind, and you my friend, my new fun thing, my summer fling.
September was a thirty-days long goodbye to summer, to the season that left everybody both happy and weary of the warm, humid weather and the exhausting but thrilling adventures
One must maintain a little bit of summer, even in the middle of winter.
Summer has always been good to me, even the bittersweet end, with the slanted yellow light
To say it was a beautiful day would not begin to explain it. It was that day when the end of summer intersects perfectly with the start of fall.
Outside the leaves on the trees constricted slightly; they were the deep done green of the beginning of autumn. It was a Sunday in September. There would only be four. The clouds were high and the swallows would be here for another month or so before they left for the south before they returned again next summer
August rain: the best of the summer gone, and the new fall not yet born. The odd uneven time.
The summer ends and we wonder where we are.
There is no ‘we’ in summer. Only ‘u’ and ‘me’.
It is the glistening autumnal side of summer. I feel a cool vein in the breeze, which braces my thought, and I pass with pleasure over sheltered and sunny portions of the sand where the summer’s heat is undiminished, and I realize what a friend I am losing.
When summer gathers up her robes of glory, And, like a dream, glides away.
Mandy tidied the weeds and pulled out some of the summer flowers. It saddened her to do so. She was parting with beloved friends.
Alas, summer sun can’t last forever. The days will grow cooler and shorter, and our skin will once again pale
Summertime. It was a song. It was a season. I wondered if that season would ever live inside of me.
Yellow butterflies look like flowers flying through the warm summer air.
I know that if odor were visible, as color is, I’d see the summer garden in rainbow clouds.
Here is the ghost of summer that lived for us. Here is a promise of summer to be.
There shall be eternal summer in the grateful heart
Summer was over in twenty minutes that day. Finished. At four o’clock in the afternoon the roses were quiet on their stems, full-blown, fulfilled; the water in the pool was warm; the leaves on the trees quiet, too, and green. The cat lay with his belly to the sun, steeped in heat.
Don’t remember summer even saying goodbye.
It was a splendid summer morning and it seemed as if nothing could go wrong.
It’s a smile, it’s a kiss, it’s a sip of wine … it’s summertime!
If it could only be like this always–always summer, always alone, the fruit always ripe
So we die before our own eyes; so we see some chapters of our lives come to their natural end.
August, the summer’s last messenger of misery is a hollow actor.
There is something deep within us that sobs at endings. Why, God, does everything have to end? Why does all nature grow old? Why do spring and summer have to go?
My favorite weather is bird-chirping weather.
I could never in a hundred summers get tired of this.
Summer bachelors like summer breezes, are never as cool as they pretend to be.
He surveyed the lake of grass below, all the dandelions gone, a touch of rust in the trees, and the smell of Egypt blowing from the far east.
Summer will end soon enough, and childhood as well.
If a June night could talk, it would probably boast it invented romance.
We know summer is the height of being alive.
Summer ends, and Autumn comes, and he who would have it otherwise would have high tide always and a full moon every night.
Our bathing suits, waving like summer flags on the clothesline were begrudgingly packed away, and replaced with long-sleeved sweaters and woolly socks.
Summer lovin’, had me a blast. Summer Lovin’, happened so fast.
It is easy to forget how effervescent and free we all felt that summer.
Summer was about freedom and youth and no school and possibilities and adventure and exploration. Summer was a book of hope.
With all these lovely tokens of September days are here, with summers best of weather and the autumns best of cheer.
Summer is leaving silently. Much like a traveler approaching the end of an amazing journey.
Also visit: Universe Quotes
Rejoice as summer should…chase away sorrows by living.
‘Cause a little bit of summer is what the whole year is all about.
Summer is singing with joy, and the beaches are inviting you with dancing waves.-Debasish Mridha
What good is the warmth of summer, without the cold of winter to give it sweetness
It’s the end of the summer. It’s the end of it all. Those days are gone, it’s over now, we’re moving on.
In June, as many as a dozen species may burst their buds on a single day. No man can heed all of these anniversaries; no man can ignore all of them.
When the sun is shining I can do anything; no mountain is too high, no trouble too difficult to overcome.
The end-of-summer winds make people restless.
Gone are the birds that were our summer guests.
Ah, summer – that long anticipated stretch of lazy, lingering days, free of responsibility and rife with possibility. It’s a time to hunt for insects, master handstands, practice swimming strokes, conquer trees, explore nooks and crannies, and make new friends
One benefit of summer was that each day we had more light to read by.
In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer.
Summer is a period of luxurious growth. To be in harmony with the atmosphere of summer, awaken early in the morning and reach to the sun for nourishment to flourish as the gardens do. Work, play, travel, be joyful, and grow into selfless service. The bounty of the outside world enters and enlivens us.
Just the smell of summer can make me fall in love.
I have only to break into the tightness of a strawberry, and I see summer – its dust and lowering skies.
Everything good, everything magical happens between the months of June and Augus
The crickets felt it was their duty to warn everybody that summertime cannot last forever.
I wonder what it would be like to live in a world where it was always June
I love how summer just wraps its arms around you like a warm blanket.
New beginnings are often disguised as painful endings.
Deep summer is when laziness finds respectability
The rains of summer’s end were very like tears, falling warm and gradually chilling where they fell.
The summer night is like a perfection of thought
Summer has filled her veins with light and her heart is washed with noon.
This morning, the sun endures past dawn. I realize that it is August: the summer’s last stand.
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
Smell the sea and feel the sky. Let your soul and spirit fly.
Caught in the doldrums of August, we may have regretted the departing summer…
I love summertime more than anything else in the world. That is the only thing that gets me through the winter, knowing that summer is going to be there
Summer afternoon — summer afternoon; to me those have always been the two most beautiful words in the English language.
People don’t notice whether it’s winter or summer when they’re happy
A fallen leaf is nothing more than a summer’s wave goodbye
If June was the beginning of a hopeful summer, and July the juice middle, August was suddenly feeling like the bitter end.
It’s a sure sign of summer if the chair gets up when you do
The first week of August hangs at the very top of summer… like the highest seat of a Ferris wheel when it pauses in its turning.
One evening in August, you have an errand outdoors, and all of a sudden, it’s pitch-black. It is still summer, but the summer is no longer alive.
Some of the best memories are made in flip flops.
August of another summer, and once again, I am drinking the sun, and the lilies again are spread across the water.
A lot of parents pack up their troubles and send them off to summer camp.
Live in the sunshine, swim the sea, drink the wild air.
Summer romances end for all kinds of reasons. But when all is said and done, they have one thing in common: They are shooting stars-a spectacular moment of light in the heavens, a fleeting glimpse of eternity. And in a flash, they’re gone.
August is that last flicker of fun and heat before everything fades and dies.
Ah, summer, what power you have to make us suffer and like it.
If you’re not barefoot, then you’re overdressed.
When summer opens, I see how fast it matures and fears it will be short; but after the heats of July and August, I am reconciled, like one who has had his swing, to the cool of autumn.
A perfect summer day is when the sun is shining, the breeze is blowing, the birds are singing, and the lawn mower is broken
In August, an inescapable blanket of heat settled over Paducah, the last gasping breath of summer roaring its weight out over the populace.
Why is summer mist romantic and autumn mist just sad?
I love borders. August is the border of summer and autumn; it is the most blissful month I know.
When the winter comes, the summer shines infinitely in our hearts!
With summer’s best of weather And autumn’s best of cheer.
The morning had dawned clear and cold, with a crispness that hinted at the end of summer.
Listen! The wind is rising, and the air is wild with leaves. We have had our summer evenings, now for October eves!
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
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