June Quotes

I was one of those unfortunates adopted by upper middle-class professionals and nurtured in an environment of learning, art and a socio-religious culture steeped in more than 2000 years of Talmudic tradition. Not everyone is lucky enough to have been raised in a whiskey tango trailer park by a bow-legged female whose sole qualification for motherhood is a womb that happened to catch a sperm of a passing truck driver.

I certainly don't understand all these strange new feelings inside me--am I here because I love him, or because I owe him?

Before I can say anything else, he steps forward and takes my face in his hands. Then he's kissing me one last time.

June cackled with delight, muttering, "Whoops!" as a car almost killed them.

I've never thought of describing her beauty as delicate, because delicate just isn't a word that fits June... but here, now that she's sick, I realize just how fragile she can be.

Stay safe. I want to see you again when all this is done.

Goodnight, June.

At midnight, in the month of June, I stand beneath the mystic moon.

Then Day reaches out and touches my hand with his. He encloses it in a handshake. And just like that, I am linked with him again, I feel the pulse of our bond and his- tory and love through our hands, like a wave of magic, the return of a long-lost friend. Of something meant to be. The feeling brings tears to my eyes. Perhaps we can take a step forward together.“Hi,” he says. “I’m Daniel.” “Hi,” I reply. “I’m June.

It was June, and the world smelled of roses. The sunshine was like powdered gold over the grassy hillside.

Day, the boy from the streets with nothing except the clothes on his back and the earnestness in his eyes, owns my heart.

I will hunt you down. I will scour the streets of Los Angeles for you. Search every street in the Republic if I have to. I will trick you and deceive you, lie, cheat and steal to find you, tempt you out of your hiding place, and chase you until you have nowhere else to run. I make you this promise: your life is mine.

We can't possibly have a summer love. So many people have tried that the name's become proverbial. Summer is only the unfulfilled promise of spring, a charlatan in place of the warm balmy nights I dream of in April. It's a sad season of life without growth...It has no day.

You led the soldiers right to my family's door. You're the reason they're dead.

Someone's going to be very pleased to see you.""I don't think the Elector will be as excited as you think.""I wasn't talking about the Elector."My heart jumps at that.

June suns, you cannot store themTo warm the winter's cold,The lad that hopes for heavenShall fill his mouth with mould.

Lots of people go mad in January. Not as many as in May, of course. Nor June. But January is your third most common month for madness.