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And so with the sunshine and the great bursts of leaves growing on the trees, just as things grow in fast movies, I had that familiar conviction that life was beginning over again with the summer.
F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby

The first week of August hangs at the very top of summer, the top of the live‐long year, like the highest seat of a Ferris wheel when it pauses in its turning. The weeks that come before are only a climb from balmy spring, and those that follow a drop to the chill of autumn, but the first week of August is motionless, and hot. It is curiously silent, too, with blank white dawns and glaring noons, and sunsets smeared with too much color.
Natalie Babbitt, Tuck Everlasting

Men's stiff collars wilted by nine in the morning. Ladies bathed before noon and after their three o'clock naps. And by nightfall were like soft teacakes with frosting from sweating and sweet talcum. The day was twenty‐four hours long, but it seemed longer.
Harper Lee, To Kill a Mockingbird

It was dry, and yet warm with the head of the summer day. I looked at the sky; it was pure: a kindly star twinkled just above the chasm ridge. The dew fell, but with propitious softness; no breeze whispered. Nature seemed to me benign and good: I thought she loved me.
Charlotte Bronte, Jane Eyre

River Flows In You, HAUSER

Summer Wind, Frank Sinatra

A Summer Place, Andy Williams

Summer Nights (Grease), John Travolta & Olivia Newton John