“Again and again, the cicada’s untiring cry pierced the sultry summer air like a needle at work on thick cotton cloth.”

“And for just a fleeting moment, a tiny wisp of time that hung in the air like fireflies
in summer skies, she wondered if she was in love with him again.”

“How hushed and still are earth and air,
How lanquid 'neath the sun's firece ray-
Drooping and faint flowers fair,
On this hot, sultry, summer day!”

“Nothing in the cry
of cicadas suggests they
are about to die”

“And besides, I like to cry. After I cry hard it's like it's morning again and I'm starting the day over.”

“It was a queer, sultry summer, the summer they electrocuted the Rosenbergs, and I didn't know what I was doing in New York.”

“It's time that we began to laugh and cry and cry and laugh about it all again.”

“On Melbourne summer mornings the green trams go rolling in stately progress down tunnels thick with leaves: the bright air carries along the avenue their patient chime, the chattering of their wheels”

“I guess I felt attached to my weakness. My pain and suffering too. Summer light, the smell of a breeze, the sound of cicadas - if I like these things, why should I apologize?”

“But if the arrow is straight
And the point is slick
It can pierce through dust no matter how thick”