June's too soon July's too late - for summer.
“June's too soon July's too late - for summer.”
“But the huge bowl of the sky remains untracked: no zeppelins, no bombers, no superhuman paratroopers, just the last songbirds returning from their winter homes, and the quicksilver winds of spring ...”
“In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer.”
“Spring is a sacred soul with a revive spirit.”