“And so with the sunshine and the great bursts of leaves growing on the trees, just as things grow in fast movies, I had that familiar conviction that life was beginning over again with the summer.”
—F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby
via:amandabusco
via:summer
“It was June, and the world smelled of roses.
The sunshine was like powdered gold over the grassy hillside.”
―Maud Hart Lovelace, Betsy-Tacy and Tib
Model: Nadine Leopold
“Everything good, everything magical happens between the months of June and August.”
—Jenny Han, The Summer I Turned Pretty
via:amandabusco
Edita Vilkeviciute by Gilles Bansimon for Vogue Paris
Beating to windward, 2008 © Matt Johnston
“At these times, the things that troubled her seemed far away and unimportant: all that mattered was the hum of the bees and the chirp of birdsong, the way the sun gleamed on the edge of a blue wildflower, the distant bleat and clink of grazing goats.”
―Alison Croggon, The Naming
Taylor Hill for Victoria Sport.
via:summer
Model: Nadine Leopold
Capri, Italy
via:amandabusco
via:adventures
via:summer
“The beauty of that June day was almost staggering. After the wet spring, everything that could turn green had outdone itself in greenness and everything that could even dream of blooming or blossoming was in bloom and blossom. The sunlight was a benediction. The breezes were so caressingly soft and intimate on the skin as to be embarrassing.”
―Dan Simmons, Drood
Model: Nadine Leopold
via:ctbonviva
via:adventure
“In the long dusks of summer we walked the suburban streets through scents of maple and cut grass, waiting for something to happen.”
―Steven Millhauser, Dangerous Laughter
Jean-Marie Liot
“When people went on vacation, they shed their home skins, thought they could be a new person.”
―Aimee Friedman, Sea Change
Model: Nadine Leopold
via::amandabusc
via:adventures
“Life, now, was unfolding before me, constantly and visibly, like the flowers of summer that drop fanlike petals on eternal soil.”
―Roman Payne, Rooftop Soliloquy
. “If it could only be like this always – always summer, always alone, the fruit always ripe and Aloysius in a good temper…”
―Evelyn Waugh, Brideshead Revisited
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