August Quotes

“August rain: the best of the summer gone, and the new fall not yet born. The odd uneven time.”
― Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

“People were messy. They were defined not only by what they'd done, but by what they would have done, under different circumstances, molded as much by their regrets as their actions, choices they stood by and those they wished they could undo. Of course, there was no going back - time only moved forward - but people could change.

For worse.

And for better.

It wasn't easy. The world was complicated. Life was hard. And so often, living hurt.

So make it worth the pain.”
― Victoria Schwab, Our Dark Duet

“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.”
― F. Scott Fitzgerald, This Side of Paradise

“I didn't stop fighting," he said, the words so low he worried Kate wouldn't hear them, but she did. "I just got tired of losing. It's easier this way."

"Of course it's easier," said Kate. "that doesn't mean it's right.”
― Victoria Schwab, Our Dark Duet

“August stared at her, aghast. "Did I know that kissing you would bring your soul to surface? That - THAT - would have the same effect as pain or music? No, I must have missed that lesson."

She stared at him, agape. "August, was that sarcasm?”
― Victoria Schwab, Our Dark Duet

“The Pond"

August of another summer, and once again
I am drinking the sun
and the lilies again are spread across the water.
I know now what they want is to touch each other.
I have not been here for many years
during which time I kept living my life.
Like the heron, who can only croak, who wishes he
could sing,
I wish I could sing.
A little thanks from every throat would be appropriate.
This is how it has been, and this is how it is:
All my life I have been able to feel happiness,
except whatever was not happiness,
which I also remember.
Each of us wears a shadow.
But just now it is summer again
and I am watching the lilies bow to each other,
then slide on the wind and the tug of desire,
close, close to one another,
Soon now, I'll turn and start for home.
And who knows, maybe I'll be singing.”
― Mary Oliver, Felicity

“This morning, the sun endures past dawn. I realise that it is August: the summer's last stand.”
― Sara Baume, A Line Made By Walking

“Every year, the bright Scandinavian summer nights fade without anyone's noticing. 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.”
― Tove Jansson, The Summer Book

“The month of August had turned into a griddle where the days just lay there and sizzled.”
― Sue Monk Kidd, The Secret Life of Bees

“The first time I let myself fall, it wasn’t hot at all. It was cold. January. There was ice on the sidewalks— at least, that’s what I’d heard. But this girl felt like nectarines and balconies to me. She felt like everything. She felt like a long winter, then a nervous spring, then a sticky summer, and then those last days you never thought you’d get to, the ones that spread themselves out, out, out until they feel like they go on forever. So, August is a person.”
― Casey McQuiston, One Last Stop

“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.”
― F. Scott Fitzgerald, This Side of Paradise

“Caught in the doldrums of August we may have regretted the departing summer, having sighed over the vanished strawberries and all that they signified. Now, however, we look forward almost eagerly to winter's approach. We forget the fogs, the slush, the sore throats an the price of coal, we think only of long evenings by lamplight, of the books which we are really going to read this time, of the bright shop windows and the keen edge of the early frosts.”
― Denis Mackail, Greenery Street

“So much for summer love and saying "us"
'Cause you weren't mine to lose”
― Taylor Swift

“I know I got to eat. But I got to live too.”
― August Wilson, Fences - Screenplay

“Those late August mornings smelt of autumn from day-break till the hour when the sun-baked earth allowed the cool sea breezes to drive back the then less heavy aroma of threshed wheat, open furrows, and reeking manure. A persistent dew clung sparkling to the skirts of the hedgerows, and if, about noon, Vinca came upon a fallen aspen leaf, the white underside of its still green surface would be damp and glistening. Moist mushrooms poked up through the earth and, now that the nights were chillier, garden spiders retired in the evenings to the shed where the playthings were kept, and there wisely took up their abode on the ceiling.”
― Colette, Ripening Seed

“But they had found the Tansy Patch a charming place and were glad to go again. For the rest of the vacation there was hardly a day when they did not go up to it-- preferably in the long, smoky, delicious August evenings when the white moths sailed over the tansy plantation and the golden twilight faded into dusk and purple over the green slopes beyond and fireflies lighted their goblin torches by the pond.”
― L.M. Montgomery, Emily of New Moon

“No one can believe that God is not good when the August gardens are in their heyday.”
― Gladys Taber, The Book of Stillmeadow

“August was smoking hot, then September walked in as cool as a cucumber, and made her presence felt.”
― Charmaine J Forde

“It was August. The cicadas swarmed overhead, iridescent wings beating the air as they flew above the landscape, breathing fresh air for the first time in seventeen years. Each summer brought a new brood, erupting forth from the earth, like corpses rising on judgment day, a reminder of the never-ending cycle of life and decay.”
― Jesse Stryker, Ravaged by the Rancher

“Han var en dreven kjender av utenlandsk liv og herlighet, og i sin smak for dyr praktutfoldelse hadde han reivet på sig et blodrødt sjal til belte om livet. Det var intet mindre end høiste mote i Sydamerika, forklarte han. Hvad du tror de sier når vi kommer? spurte han Edevart. Da de nærmet sig grænden forlangte han at de skulde puste på for ikke at komme utaset frem. Han tok op av lommen en cigar til hver, kjøpt i Bodø til bruk netop ved dette høve, og han advaret Edevart mot å røke for stærkt på den og øde den før tiden. Men når vi går forbi Karolus sin stue så skal du dampe storveies! sa han.”
― Knut Hamsun, Wayfarers

“I farm ducks like September swims in August. But that’s natural, because it’s too cold to go swimming in October. Buy eleven eggs, get the twelfth FREE.”
― Jarod Kintz, BearPaw Duck And Meme Farm presents: Two Ducks Brawling Is A Pre-Pillow Fight

“You can't buy happiness, but it's Sunday, it's August, the seas are working, your passport is valid, and your tooth doesn't hurt – that's enough for the wise.”
― Djura Kelj, Mir More Ljubav

“It's in the things we've lost that we exist most fully.”
― Fritz Leiber

“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.”
― Valerie Dunsmore, Rabbit, Rabbit, Rabbit

“Dear August, the end of Summer. Golden Sand is wetty by the rain water. Can I call it rainy season? No I can't. What is the reason behind chilly and windy tan? Three shades of weather, conglomerate together. Whatever! I cannot define, It is my favourite, the August time!”
― Radhika Vijay

“She had aged five years since Cirocco last saw her. She was a thin, hollow-eyed ghost with hands that shook constantly. She looked incomplete, as if half of her had been hacked away.”
― John Varley, Titan

“Dear August,

You will always be special to me!”
― Charmaine J Forde

“Ne možeš
pazariti sreću,
ali nedelja je,
avgust je,
mora rade,
pasoš ti važi
i ne boli te zub,
pametnom
dovoljno.”
― Djura Kelj, Mir More Ljubav

“His father, putter in hand, on the fourteenth green at Killarney, dark glasses and spats, sunburned with August laughter”
― Joseph O'Connor, My Father's House

“The month of August had turned into a griddle where the days just lay there and sizzled. I plucked leaves off the elephant ear plants and fanned my face, sat with my bare feet submerged in the trickling water, felt breezes lift off the river and sweep over me, and still everything about me was stunned and stupefied by the heat, everything except my heart. It sat like an ice sculpture in the center of my chest. Nothing could touch it.”
― Sue Monk Kidd, The Secret Life of Bees