July Quotes
Quotes tagged as "july"
Showing 1-30 of 35

“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.”
― This Side of Paradise
― This Side of Paradise

“Summer has no day,' she said. '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.”
― This Side of Paradise
― This Side of Paradise

“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.”
― Overtures to Death and Other Poems
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.”
― Overtures to Death and Other Poems

“Long has paled that sunny sky:
Echoes fade and memories die:
Autumn frosts have slain July.
Still she haunts me, phantomwise,
Alice moving under skies
Never seen by waking eyes.”
―
Echoes fade and memories die:
Autumn frosts have slain July.
Still she haunts me, phantomwise,
Alice moving under skies
Never seen by waking eyes.”
―

“Julia, I almost wish we were butterflies living an eternal summer. Today is the first day of August; it is no longer July. Summer passes, and Summer friends will melt away like snow in spring.”
―
―

“July, that lovely hell, all
velvet dresses and drapes
stuffed into a hot little hole.”
― Space, in Chains
velvet dresses and drapes
stuffed into a hot little hole.”
― Space, in Chains
“I drifted into a summer-nap under the hot shade of July, serenaded by a cicada lullaby, to drowsy-warm dreams of distant thunder.”
―
―

“We spent June and July in the Rockies, growing stronger, feeling feral in the untamed range of mountains.”
― Your Blue Is Not My Blue: A Missing Person Memoir
― Your Blue Is Not My Blue: A Missing Person Memoir

“It was an early, very warm morning in July, and it had rained during the night. The bare granite steamed, the moss and crevices were drenched with moisture, and all the colors everywhere had deepened. Below the veranda, the vegetation in the morning shade was like a rain forest of lush, evil leaves and flowers ...”
― The Summer Book
― The Summer Book
“it is the end of july and
the idle breeze of gentle childhood
befogs my mind once more,
as the foreign dull heat holds my body
so close i feel it’s scarce and quiet breathing
brush against my stomach.
i have not written since paris
and i feel true in my youth at last.
the sun strips me of my fatigued masquerading while summer
feeds me plump peaches and wrinkly with ripeness figs ;
softly reciting the writings of sylvia plath and patti smith.
my bare feet greedily absorb the coolness of the cerulean tiles carpeting the guest bathroom floor.
the sea covers my ears
it’s waves plaiting my hair with the pacific touch of a mother
lulling me to a somnolent state
as the lenient light of the afternoon
blinks through my fluttering eyes
and the sparse flare of wind relieves
the creases between my eyebrows.”
―
the idle breeze of gentle childhood
befogs my mind once more,
as the foreign dull heat holds my body
so close i feel it’s scarce and quiet breathing
brush against my stomach.
i have not written since paris
and i feel true in my youth at last.
the sun strips me of my fatigued masquerading while summer
feeds me plump peaches and wrinkly with ripeness figs ;
softly reciting the writings of sylvia plath and patti smith.
my bare feet greedily absorb the coolness of the cerulean tiles carpeting the guest bathroom floor.
the sea covers my ears
it’s waves plaiting my hair with the pacific touch of a mother
lulling me to a somnolent state
as the lenient light of the afternoon
blinks through my fluttering eyes
and the sparse flare of wind relieves
the creases between my eyebrows.”
―

“Bay leaves granted wishes as July turned into August. I wrote a wish on the leaf and kissed it three times in front of the moon, and then I slept with the scent of bay wafting from under my pillow. Rose said my wishes smelled like chicken soup and Thanksgiving turkey. But really my wish smelled like Aunt Ruth’s cinnamon rolls and ash soap, the special kind of soap she pulled from under the sink when we had a bad dream.”
― Rabbit, Rabbit, Rabbit
― Rabbit, Rabbit, Rabbit

“it strikes me that the spirit of the Fourth, this year, was used up by September's end and fell like an early leaf.”
― Life Sentences: Literary Judgments and Accounts
― Life Sentences: Literary Judgments and Accounts

“I've got three days available in July next year, she said. So, are we going to do this thing or not?
—Calendar Girl”
― Theories of Everything
—Calendar Girl”
― Theories of Everything

“I suspect there are undercurrents of racism towards British people in the USA due to Independence Day, July 4th.”
―
―

“There was an excitability about him that seemed it could dissipate at any moment as though he were Christmas in July but rather than sporting holiday cheer and sparkling fireworks, he offered the showing of amateur eggnog hangover and explanations about the lack of permits to the fire department.”
― Whisky Hernandez
― Whisky Hernandez

“I think there is USA racism towards the British from the 4th of July celebrations and associated independence history.”
―
―
“July beckons us to complete what we began with fervor, harnessing our genius and triumphantly finishing the year. Embrace the power of seven and unleash your potential to leave a lasting impact.”
―
―

“The block I grew up on had a lot of kids, some of which were the kind your parents didn’t want you to be friends with. These kids always had those crazy firework catalogs in the months leading up to July.”
―
―
“The love was beyond intense. It was to the point where I could write a thousand poems simply about the way he held my hand on July 13th, 2013, at 10:46pm.”
―
―
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