Quotes on Midsummer

Are you sure/That we are awake? It seems to me/That yet we sleep, we dream

The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling, doth glance from heaven to Earth, from Earth to heaven; and as imagination bodies forth the forms of things unknown, the poet's pen turns them to shape, and gives to airy nothing a local habitation and a name; such tricks hath strong imagination.

So we grew together like to a double cherry, seeming parted, but yet an union in partition, two lovely berries molded on one stem.

As full of spirit as the month of May, and as gorgeous as the sun in Midsummer.

A tragedy is a tragedy, and at the bottom, all tragedies are stupid. Give me a choice and I'll take A Midsummer Night's Dream over Hamlet every time. Any fool with steady hands and a working set of lungs can build up a house of cards and then blow it down, but it takes a genius to make people laugh.

A Christmas frost had come at midsummer; a white December storm had whirled over June; ice glazed the ripe apples, drifts crushed the blowing roses; on hayfield and cornfield lay a frozen shroud: lanes which last night blushed full of flowers, to-day were pathless with untrodden snow; and the woods, which twelve hours since waved leafy and flagrant as groves between the tropics, now spread, waste, wild, and white as pine-forests in wintry Norway.

The lunatic, the lover, and the poet, are of imagination all compact.

All furnished, all in arms;_x000D_ _x000D_ All plum'd like estridges that with the wind_x000D_ _x000D_ Bated like eagles having lately bathed;_x000D_ _x000D_ Glittering in golden coats like images;_x000D_ _x000D_ As full of spirit as the month of May_x000D_ _x000D_ And gorgeous as the sun at midsummer;_x000D_ _x000D_ Wanton as youthful goats, wild as young bulls.

The course of true love never did run smooth.

If eternity had a season, it would be midsummer. Autumn, winter, spring are all change and passage, but at the height of summer the year stands poised. It's only a passing moment, but even as it passes the heart knows it cannot change.

Cupid is a knavish lad, Thus to make poor females mad.

Lord, what fools these mortals be!

One sees more devils than vast hell can hold

A lion among ladies is a most dreadful thing.

To show our simple skill, That is the true beginning of our end.

The midsummer sun shines but dim, The fields strive in vain to look gay; But when I am happy in Him December's as pleasant as May.

Four days will quickly steep themselves in nights; Four nights will quickly dream away the time; And then the moon, like to a silver bow new bent in heaven, shall behold the night of our solemnities.

I know a place where the wild thyme blows, where oxlips and the nodding violet grows.

So quick bright things come to confusion.​​​​​​

Things base and vile, holding no quantity, Love can transpose to form and dignity. Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind. Nor hath Love's mind of any judgment taste; Wings and no eyes figure unheedy haste.

And yet,to say the truth, reason and love keep little company together nowadays.