July 4. Statistics show that we lose more fools on this day than in all the other days of the year put together. This proves, by the number left in stock, that one Fourth of July per year is now inadequate, the country has grown so.
(Mark Twain [Samuel Langhorne Clemens] (1835-1910), U.S. author. Pudd'nhead Wilson and Those Extraordinary Twins, ch. 17 (1894).)
“When they were all ready, Halpern again counted them in, and the lyrical clarinet line floated over the strings and, Max felt, out of the open window and on, out and out over the hot, dusty July city like summer rain.”
(― Lucy Beckett, A Postcard from the Volcano)
Infinity of pure love is through the action of words a carefree at heart seek of purpose that met proposal like the sunflower blossom in summer heat of July wedding eve's around the corner the pure beauty of pure love is when you love a person and he loves you back and marrying each other without slipping through your fingertips you found your spouse talk like best friend's love like boyfriend & girlfriend that what spouse is about.
(- - - - The art of love- - - -)
I thank heaven that the 4th. of July is over. It is always a day of great fatigue to me, and of some embarrassments from improper intrusions and some from unintended exclusions.
(Thomas Jefferson (1743-1826), U.S. president. Letter, July 5, 1808, to his granddaughter, Ellen Wayles Randolph. The Family Letters of Thomas Jefferson, p. 347, eds. E.M. Betts and J.A. Bear, Jr. (1966).)
People in Stamps used to say that the whites in our town were so prejudiced that a Negro couldn't buy vanilla ice cream. Except on July Fourth. Other days he had to be satisfied with chocolate.
(Maya Angelou (b. 1928), African American poet, autobiographer, and performer. I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, ch. 8 (1970).
Remembering her childhood in strictly segregated, harshly racist Stamps, Arkansas, during the 1930s.)
I, too, believe in the death penalty. However, Mr. McKinney, I'm going to grant you life, as hard as that is for me to do, because of Matthew. Every time you celebrate Christmas, a birthday, or the Fourth of July, remember that Matt isn't. Every time that you wake up in that prison cell, remember that you had the opportunity and the ability to stop your actions that night. Every time that you see your cell mate, remember that you had a choice, and now you are living that choice. You robbed me of something very precious, and I will never forgive you for that.
(Dennis Shepard (Matthew Shepard's Father) 1999 Speech in Court)
“I like you; your eyes are full of language."
[Letter to Anne Clarke, July 3, 1964.]”
( Anne Sexton)
He makes a July's day short as December,
And with his varying childness cures in me
Thoughts that would thick my blood.
(William Shakespeare (1564-1616), British dramatist, poet. Polixenes, in The Winter's Tale, act 1, sc. 2, l. 169-71.
On the pleasure his son gives him.)