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I love paris in the summer, when it sizzles.
-Cole Porter
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I Love Paris In The Summer, When

Cole Porter
I love paris in the summer, when it sizzles.
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Summer Travel Paris

More From Cole Porter

Every time i look down on this timeless town whether blue or gray be her skies. whether loud be her cheers or soft be her tears, more and more do i realize: i love paris in the springtime. i love paris in the fall. i love paris in the winter when it drizzles, i love paris in the summer when it sizzles. i love paris every moment, every moment of the year. i love paris, why, oh why do i love paris? because my love is near.
Summer Cheer Fall
It is no accident that propels people like us to paris. paris is simply an artificial stage, a revolving stage that permits the spectator to glimpse all phases of the conflict. of itself paris initiates no dramas. they are begun elsewhere. paris is simply an obstetrical instrument that tears the living embryo from the womb and puts it in the incubator.
Drama Paris People
I know i am but summer to your heart, and not the full four seasons of the year; and you must welcome from another part such noble moods as are not mine, my dear. no gracious weight of golden fruits to sell have i, nor any wise and wintry thing; and i have loved you all too long and well to carry still the high sweet breast of spring. wherefore i say: o love, as summer goes, i must be gone, steal forth with silent drums, that you may hail anew the bird and rose when i come back to you, as summer comes. else will you seek, at some not distant time, even your summer in another clime.
Summer Wise Sweet
Autumn truly is what summer pretends to be: the best of all seasons. it is as glorious as summer is tedious; as subtle as summer is obvious; as refreshing as summer is wearying. autumn seems like paradise.
Summer Autumn Paradise
One half of my head, from the top of my skull to the cleft of my jaw, hammers, bangs, sizzles while the other half, serene and content, looks on at the agony next door.
Doors Agony Skulls
There is never any ending to paris and the memory of each person who has lived in it differs from that of any other. we always returned to it no matter who we were or how it was changed or with what difficulties, or ease, it could be reached. paris was always worth it and you received return for whatever you brought to it. but this is how paris was in the early days when we were very poor and very happy.
Memories Paris Ease
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