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One swallow does not make a summer, neither does one fine day; similarly one day or brief time of happiness does not make a person entirely happy.

I almost wish we were butterflies and liv'd but three summer days - three such days with you I could fill with more delight than fifty common years could ever contain.

Ιt's a smile, it's a kiss, it's a sip of wine ... it's summertime!

Sometimes the clouds weren’t weightless. Sometimes their bellies got dark and full. It was life. It happened. It didn’t mean it wasn’t scary, or that I wasn’t still afraid, but now I knew that as long as I was standing under it with Braden beside me when those clouds broke, I’d be alright.