“Then followed that beautiful season... Summer....Filled was the air with a dreamy and magical light; and the landscapeLay as if new created in all the freshness of childhood.”

“Childhood is the world of miracle and wonder; as if creation rose, bathed in the light, out of the darkness, utterly new and fresh and astonishing. The end of childhood is when things cease to astonish us.”

“Saturday morning was come, and all the summer world was bright and fresh, and brimming with life. There was a song in every heart; and if the heart was young, the music issued at the lips. There was cheer in every face and a spring in every step. The locust-trees were in bloom, and the fragrance of the blossoms filled the air. Cardiff Hill, beyond the village and above, it was green with vegetation, and it lay just far enough away to seem a Delectable Land, dreamy, reposeful, and inviting.”

“I adore a little summer shower, said I, with a deep, appreciative intake of the damp, salty air. It makes the world smell fresh and new.”

“It was a beautiful Indian summer morning and perfect for savoring a few extra minutes in bed. There was a breeze blowing through my bedroom window; the air was as crisp as a bite of a fresh red apple.”

“Give me golf clubs, fresh air and a beautiful partner, and you can keep the clubs and the fresh air.”