A book should be so true as to be intimate and familiar to all men as the sun to their faces. Such a word as is occasionally uttered to a companion in the woods in summer, and both are silent.—Journal, 4 September 1841
A healthy man, indeed, is the complement of the seasons, and in winter, summer is in his heart.—"A Winter Walk"
A phoebe soon built in my shed, and a robin for protection in a pine which grew against the house. In June the partridge, which is so shy a bird, led her brood past my windows, from the woods in the rear to the front of my house, clucking and calling to them like a hen, and in all her behavior proving herself the hen of the woods.—Walden
Almost the very sands confess the ripening influence of the August sun, and methinks, together with the slender grasses waving over them, reflect a purple tinge.—"Autumnal Tints"
And so the seasons went rolling on into summer, as one rambles into higher and higher grass.—Walden
Each summer sound Is a summer round.—"Natural History of Massachusetts"
In the summer we lay up a stock of experiences for the winter, as the squirrel of nuts?something for conversation in winter evenings.—Journal, 4 September 1851
Instead of the white lily, which requires mud, or the common sweet flag, the blue flag (Iris versicolor) grows thinly in the pure water, rising from the stony bottom all around the shore, where it is visited by hummingbirds in June . . .—Walden
Is not all the summer akin to a paradise?—Journal, 9 May 1852
It was summer, and now again it is winter. Nature loves this rhyme so well that she never tires of repeating it.—Journal, 7 December 1856