In this blog post, we will present you some curiosities about the eighth month of the year – August.

You will also be able to read the most beautiful poems dedicated to August, but also famous quotes about August.

August – the eighth month of the year

August is the eighth month of the year in the Gregorian calendar and one of the seven Gregorian months with a duration of 31 days.

From an astrological point of view, August begins with the sun in the sign of Leo and ends in the sign of Virgo.

From an astronomical point of view, August begins with the sun in the constellation of Cancer and ends with the sun in the constellation of Leo.

The name of August comes from the name of the first Roman emperor, Caesar Augustus, this month has 31 days, because Caesar Augustus wanted August to have as many days as the month of Julius Caesar, July.

Before, August was called in Latin Sextilis because it was the sixth month in the Romanian calendar, a calendar that began in March.

The Greeks called August the Metageitnion.

11 Famous August Quotes

“Remember to be gentle with yourself and others. We are all children of chance and none can say why some fields will blossom while others lay brown beneath the August sun.”—Kent Nerburn, American writer

“When summer opens, I see how fast it matures, and fear it will be short; but after the heats of July and August, I am reconciled, like one who has had his swing, to the cool of autumn.”—Ralph Waldo Emerson, American essayist and scholar

“I bet deep down you still wish your mom would take you clothes shopping every August for the new school year.”—Bridget Willard, American worship leader

“The English winter—ending in July, / To recommence in August.”—Lord Byron, English poet

“That August time it was delight / To watch the red moons wane to white.”—Algernon Charles Swinburne, English poet

“The trees tremble with delirious joy as the breeze / Greets them, one by one—now the oak / Now the great sycamore, now the elm.”—From the poem “In August,” Hamlin Garland, American poet

“I would have learnt to love black days like bright ones / The black rain, the white hills, when once / I loved only my happiness and you.” —From the poem “Dark August,” Derek Walcott, Saint Lucien poet and playwright.

“Every year, August lashes out in volcanic fury, rising with the din of morning traffic, it’s great metallic wings smashing against the ground, heating the air with ever-increasing intensity.” – Henry Rollins

“August, the summer’s last messenger of misery, is a hollow actor.” – Henry Rollins

“August rain: the best of the summer gone, and the new fall not yet born. The odd uneven time.” – Sylvia Plath

39 August Quotes

“People were messy. They were defined not only by what they’d done, but by what they would have done, under different circumstances, molded as much by their regrets as their actions, choices they stood by and those they wished they could undo. Of course, there was no going back – time only moved forward – but people could change.

For worse.

And for better.

It wasn’t easy. The world was complicated. Life was hard. And so often, living hurt.

So make it worth the pain.” ― Victoria Schwab

“August rain: the best of the summer gone, and the new fall not yet born. The odd uneven time.” ― Sylvia Plath
“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.” ― F. Scott Fitzgerald
“I didn’t stop fighting,” he said, the words so low he worried Kate wouldn’t hear them, but she did. “I just got tired of losing. It’s easier this way.”

“Of course it’s easier,” said Kate. “that doesn’t mean it’s right.” ― Victoria Schwab

“I’d rather be able to see the truth than live a lie.” ― Victoria Schwab
“August stared at her, aghast. “Did I know that kissing you would bring your soul to surface? That – THAT – would have the same effect as pain or music? No, I must have missed that lesson.”

She stared at him, agape. “August, was that sarcasm?” ― Victoria Schwab

“The whole thing’s illusion, [Jacob], and there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s what people want from us. It’s what they expect.” ― sara gruen
“This morning, the sun endures past dawn. I realise that it is August: the summer’s last stand.” ― Sara Baume
“August was nearly over – the month of apples and falling stars, the last care-free month for the school children. The days were not hot, but sunny and limpidly clear – the first sign of advancing autumn.” ― Victor Nekrasov
“August is that last flicker of fun and heat before everything fades and dies. The final moments of fun before the freeze. In the winter, everything changes.”― Rasmenia Massoud

“Summer has no day,’ she said. ‘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.” ― F. Scott Fitzgerald
“The month of August had turned into a griddle where the days just lay there and sizzled.” ― Sue Monk Kidd
“Every year, the bright Scandinavian summer nights fade without anyone noticing. One evening in August you have an errand outdoors, and all of a sudden it’s pitch-black. It is still summer, but the summer is no longer alive.” ― Tove Jansson

“The Pond”

August of another summer, and once again

I am drinking the sun

and the lilies again are spread across the water.

I know now what they want is to touch each other.

I have not been here for many years

during which time I kept living my life.

Like the heron, who can only croak, who wishes he

could sing,

I wish I could sing.

A little thanks from every throat would be appropriate.

This is how it has been, and this is how it is:

All my life I have been able to feel happiness,

except whatever was not happiness,

which I also remember.

Each of us wears a shadow.

But just now it is summer again

and I am watching the lilies bow to each other,

then slide on the wind and the tug of desire,

close, close to one another,

Soon now, I’ll turn and start for home.

And who knows, maybe I’ll be singing.”

― Mary Oliver

“Caught in the doldrums of August we may have regretted the departing summer, having sighed over the vanished strawberries and all that they signified. Now, however, we look forward almost eagerly to winter’s approach. We forget the fogs, the slush, the sore throats and the price of coal, we think only of long evenings by lamplight, of the books which we are really going to read this time, of the bright shop windows and the keen edge of the early frosts.” ― Denis Mackail

“Can’t rush art.” ― victoria schwab

“One day you discover you are alive.

detonation! Concussion! Illumination! Delight!

You laugh, you dance around, you shout.

But, not long after, the sun goes out. Snow falls, but no one sees it, on an August noon.”

― Ray Bradbury

“Your acts are your monuments” ― R. J. Palacios

“In August, an inescapable blanket of heat settled over Paducah, the last gasping breath of summer roaring its weight out over the populace.”― Kelsey Brickl\

“Quinnipeague in August was a lush green place where inchworms dangled from trees whose leaves were so full that the eaten parts were barely missed. Mornings meant ‘thick o’ fog’ that caught on rooftops and dripped, blurring weathered gray shingles while barely muting the deep pink of rosa rugosa or the hydrangea’s blue. Wood smoke filled the air on rainy days, pine sap on sunny ones, and wafting through it all was the briny smell of the sea.” ― Barbara Delinsky
“He waited for me to stand and join him, then he threaded our fingers together. My best friend, the boy I’d loved my entire life, was holding my hand.” ― Kelly Siskind
“Terrified he was about to say the three most terrifying words in the English language, I opened my ridiculous mouth, and blurted, “I stole your underwear.”

Gwen Hamilton, winner of the Dumbest Confession Award.” ― Kelly Siskind

“When you stand on the banks

of Penn Swamp Pond in August,

those injuries can save your life

and keep you picking till the bush is bare.” ― Charles Rafferty

“Awwwgust!” ― Nitya Prakash
“I know I got to eat. But I got to live too.” ― August Wilson
“The grass in the back field was almost waist high, and now there was goldenrod, that late-summer gossip which comes to tattle on autumn every year. But there was no autumn in the air today; the sun was still all August, although calendar August was almost two weeks gone.” ― Stephen King

“In the restaurant kitchen, August meant lobsters, blackberries, silver queen corn, and tomatoes, tomatoes, tomatoes. In honor of the last year of the restaurant, Fiona was creating a different tomato special for each day of the month. The first of August (two hundred and fifty covers on the book, eleven reservation wait list) was a roasted yellow tomato soup. The second of August (two hundred and fifty covers, seven reservation wait list) was tomato pie with a Gruyère crust. On the third of August, Ernie Otemeyer came in with his wife to celebrate his birthday and since Ernie liked food that went with his Bud Light, Fiona made a Sicilian pizza- a thick, doughy crust, a layer of fresh buffalo mozzarella, topped with a voluptuous tomato-basil sauce. One morning when she was working the phone, Adrienne stepped into the kitchen hoping to get a few minutes with Mario, and she found Fiona taking a bite out of a red ripe tomato like it was an apple. Fiona held the tomato out.

“I’d put this on the menu,” she said. “But few would understand.” ― Elin Hilderbrand

“One of the reasons I grew my hair long last year was that I like how my bangs cover my eyes: it helps me block out the things I don’t want to see.” -August thinking” ― R.J. Palacio
“August has passed, and yet summer continues by force to grow. They sprout secretly between the chapters of the year, covertly included between its pages.” ― Jonathan Safran Foer
“I just completed a long car trip on a Sunday in August with two small children, which believe me is enough to convince you that Samuel Beckett was right about everything.” ― Lev Grossman

“Did you know that a bee dies after he stings you? And that there’s a star called Aldebaran? And that around the tenth of August, any year, you can look up in the sky at night and see dozens and dozens of hitting stars?” ― Elizabeth Enright
“You do right by me, I’ll show you a life most suckers can’t even dream of.” ― Sara Gruen
“August is a gentle reminder for not doing a single thing from your new year resolution for seven months and not doing it for the next five.” ― Crestless Wave
“Everyone deserves a standing ovation because we all overcometh the world.” ― R.J.Palacio

“Now the windows, blinded by the glare of the empty square, had fallen asleep. The balconies declared their emptiness to heaven; the open doorways smelt of coolness and wine.” ― Bruno Schulz
“Thrown from the garden, she searches for true love. but she needs an heir.” ― Suzanne Stroh
“It’s hard to reconcile this August with the other one. and to be honest I don’t try very hard. I’ve seen flashes of this August before-This brightness, this conviviality, this generosity of spirit-but I know what he’s capable of, and I won’t forget it. The others can believe what they like, but I don’t believe for a second that this is the real August and the other an aberration And yet I can see how they might be fooled-” ― Sara Gruen

“Take me to that island where people celebrate in the streets in August, -No Titles Required!

Take me to Barbados..246” ― Charmaine J. Forde

50 August Poems

“Summertime

And the living is easy

Fish are jumpin’

And the cotton is high

Oh, your daddy’s rich

And your mamma’s good lookin’

So hush little baby now

don’t you cry

One of these mornings

You’re gonna rise up singing’

Then you’ll spread your wings

And take to the sky

But til that mornin’

Ain’t nothin’ can harm you

With your daddy

And your mammy

standing’ by.”

– George Gershwin and Dubose Heyward, Porgy and Bess

“All your renown is like the summer flower that blooms and dies; because the sunny glow which brings it forth,

soon slays with parching power.”

– Alighieri Dante

“The collision of hail or rain with hard surfaces, or the song of cicadas in a summer field. These sonic events are made out of thousands of isolated sounds; this multitude of sounds, seen as totality, is a new sonic event.”

– Iannis Xenakis

“What wondrous life is this I lead!

Ripe apples drop about my head;

The luscious clusters of the vine

Upon my mouth do crush their wine;

The nectarine and curious peach

Into my hands themselves do reach;

Stumbling on melons, as I pass,

Ensnared with flowers, I fall on grass.”

– Andrew Marvell, Thoughts in a Garden

“My life is like the summer rose

That opens to the morning sky,

But ere the shades of evening close

Is scattered on the ground – to die.”

– Richard Henry Wilde

“And hate the bright stillness of the noon

without wind, without motion.

the only other living thing

a hawk, hungry for prey, suspended

in the blinding, sunlit blue.

And yet how gentle it seems to someone

raised in a landscape short of rain—

the skyline of a hill broken by no more

trees than one can count, the grass,

the empty sky, the wish for water.”

– Dana Gioia, California Hills in August

“Open the window, and let the air

Freshly blow upon face and hair,

And fill the room, as it fills the night,

With the breath of the rain’s sweet might.

Hark! the burthen, swift and prone!

And how the odorous limes are blown!

Stormy Love’s abroad, and keeps

Hopeful coil for gentle sleeps.

Not a blink shall burn to-night

In my chamber, of sordid light;

Nought will I have, not a window-pane,

‘Twixt me and the air and the great good rain,

Whichever shall sing me sharp lullabies;

And God’s own darkness shall close mine eyes;

And I will sleep, with all things blest,

In the pure earth-shadow of natural rest.”

– James Henry Leigh Hunt, A Night Rain in Summer

“In summer, the song sings itself.”

– William Carlos Williams

“August rushes by like desert rainfall,

A flood of frenzied upheaval,

Expected,

But still catching me unprepared.

Like a match flame

Bursting on the scene,

Heat and haze of crimson sunsets.

Like a dream

Of moon and dark barely recalled,

A moment,

Shadows caught in a blink.

Like a quick kiss;

One wishes for more

But it suddenly turns to leave,

Dragging summer away.”

– Elizabeth Maua Taylor

“In August, the large masses of berries, which, when in flower, had attracted many wild bees, gradually assumed their bright velvety crimson hue, and by their weight again bent down and broke their tender limbs.”

– Henry David Thoreau

“Summer is delicious, rain is refreshing, wind braces up, snow is exhilarating; there is no such thing as bad weather, only different kinds of good weather.”

– John Ruskin

“The moon is at her full, and riding high,

Floods the calm fields with light.

The airs that hover in the summer sky

Are all asleep to-night.”

– William C. Bryant

“As in the bread and wine, so it is with me.

Within all forms is locked a record of the past

And a promise of the future.

I ask that you lay your blessings upon me, Ancient Ones,

That this season of waning light

And increasing darkness may not be heavy.

So Mote It Be!”

– Faille, Lammas Ritual

“Oh, the summer night,

Has a smile of light,

And she sits on a sapphire throne.”

– Barry Cornwall

“There’s a time each year

That we always hold dear,

Good old summertime;

With the birds and the treeses

And sweet scented breezes,

Good old summertime,

When you day’s work is over

Then you are in clover,

And life is one beautiful rhyme,

No trouble annoying,

Each one is enjoying,

The good old summer time.”

– Lyrics by Ron Shields, In the Good Old Summertime

“Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?”

– William Shakespeare

“The streets lie, the sidewalks lie, everything lies

You can try and read it but you’re gonna get it wrong…all wrong

The summer evenings burn and melt and the nights glitter but you’re gonna get it wrong

And it’s gonna sink its teeth into your flesh and pull you to the bottom.”

– Henry Rollins

“Once upon a Lammas Night

When corn rigs are bonny,

Beneath the Moon’s unclouded light,

I held a while to Annie…

The time went by with careless heed

Between the late and early,

With small persuasion she agreed

To see me through the barley…

Corn rigs and barley rigs,

Corn rigs are bonny!

I’ll not forget that happy night

Among the rigs with Annie!”

– Robert Burns

“I celebrate myself, and what I assume you shall assume, For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you. I loafe and invite my soul, I lean and loafe at my ease … observing a spear of summer grass.”

– Walt Whitman

“‘Lughnassad’ means ‘the funeral games of Lugh’, referring to Lugh, the Irish sun god. However, the funeral is not his own, but the funeral games he hosts in honor of his foster-mother Tailte. For that reason, the traditional Tailteann craft fairs and Tailteann marriages (which last for a year and a day) are celebrated at this time. As autumn begins, the Sun God enters his old age, but is not yet dead. It is also a celebration of the first harvest. The Christian religion adopted this theme and called it ‘Lammas’, meaning ‘loaf-mass’, a time when newly baked loaves of bread are placed on the altar. An alternative date around August 5 (Old Lammas), when the sun reaches 15 degrees Leo, is sometimes employed by Covens.”

– Wiccan Holidays, Lughnassad (July 31 – August Eve)

“Let your children have as many flowers, borrowed from God. If the flowers die or wither, thank God for a summer loan of them.”

– Samuel Rutherford

“O Spirit of the Summertime!

Bring back the roses to the dells;

The swallow from her distant clime,

The honey-bee from drowsy cells.

Bring back the friendship of the sun;

The gilded evenings, calm and late,

When merry children homeward run,

And peeping stars bid lovers wait.

Bring back the singing; and the scent

Of meadowlands at dewy prime;—

Oh, bring again my heart’s content,

Thou Spirit of the Summertime!”

– William Allingham

“When summer gathers up her robes of glory, and like a dream of beauty glides away.”

– Sarah Helen Power Whitman

“Fairest of the months!

Ripe summer’s queen

The hey-day of the year

With robes that gleam with sunny sheen

Sweet August doth appear.”

– R. Combe Miller

“The Queen of Hearts, she made some tarts,

All on a summer day:

The Knave of Hearts, he stole those tarts,

And took them quite away!”

– Lewis Carroll

“Like a welcome summer rain, humor may suddenly cleanse and cool the earth, the air and you.”

– Langston Hughes

“When in still air and still in summertime

A leaf has had enough of this, it seems

To make up its mind to go; fine as a sage

It’s drifting in detachment down the road.”

– Howard Nemerov, Threshold

“Blessed be the Harvest,

Blessed be the Corn Mother,

Blessed be the Grain God,

For together they nourish both body and soul.

Many blessings I have been given,

I count them now by this bread.

Guardian of the East, I pray for your indulgence.

Hear me now as I request your aid in the cycle of life.

As your winds blow through fields of ripened grain,

Carry loosened seeds upon your back

That they may fall amidst the soil

That is our Mother Earth.”

– Lammas Ritual

“As for me, I know nothing else but miracles,

Whether I walk the streets of Manhattan,

Or dart my sight over the roofs of houses toward the sky,

Or wade with naked feet along the beach just in the edge of the water,

Or stand under the trees in the woods,

Or talk by day with any one I love,

Or sleep in bed at night with any one I love,

Or watch honey bees busy around the hive of a summer afternoon…

Or the wonderfulness of the sundown,

Or of stars shining so quiet and bright,

Or the exquisite delicate thin curve of the new moon in spring…

What strange miracles are there?”

– Walt Whitman

“Whilst August yet wears her golden crown,

Ripening fields lush- bright with promise;

Summer waxes long, then wanes, quietly passing

Her fading green glory on to riotous Autumn.”

– Michelle L. Thieme, August’s Crown

“How sociable the garden was.

We ate and talked in a given light.

The children put their toys to grass

All the warm wakeful August night.”

– Thomas Gunn, Last Days at Teddington

Ah, Sun-flower, weary of time,

Who countest the steps of the Sun,

Seeking after that sweet golden clime

Where the traveller’s journey is done:

Where the Youth pined away with desire,

And the pale lady shrouded in snow

Arise from their graves, and aspire

Where my Sun-flower wishes to go.

– William Blake

“And now the cordial clouds have shut all in,

And gently swells the wind to say all’s well;

The scattered drops are falling fast and thin,

Some in the pool, some in the flower-bell.

I am well drenched upon my bed of oats;

But see that globe come rolling down its stem,

Now like a lonely planet there it floats,

And now it sinks into my garment’s hem.

Drip drip the trees for all the country round,

And richness rare distills from every bough;

The wind alone it is makes every sound,

Shaking down crystals on the leaves below.

For shame the sun will never show himself,

Who could not with his beams e’er melt me so;

My dripping locks–they would become an elf,

Who in a beaded coat does gaily go.”

– Henry David Thoreau, The Summer Rain

“What dreadful hot weather we have!

It keeps me in a continual state of inelegance.”

– Jane Austen

“Birds fly in formation;

Tree leaves sway from side to side;

Clouds gather in small huddles,

discussing the weather;

Grass shoots shoot up once more,

their roots replenished;

A Phoenix nearby hums his Ode;

Tranquility is in place,

after the long bitter wait;

Alive, now, is the world.”

– J. I. Stuart, August

“This bud of love, by summer’s ripening breath,

May prove a beautiful flower when next we meet.”

– William Shakespeare

“Heat, ma’am! it was so dreadful here, that I found there was nothing left for it but to take off my flesh and sit in my bones.”

– Sydney Smith, Lady Holland’s Memoir

“Not wholly in the busy world, nor quite

Beyond it, blooms the garden that I love.

News from the humming city comes to it

It sounds like a funeral or marriage bells.”

– Alfred Lord Tennyson

“Nobody ever drowned in his own sweat.”

– Ann Landers

“There is a harmony in autumn, and a luster in its sky, which through the summer is not heard or seen, as if it could not be, as if it had not been!”

– Percy Bysshe Shelley

“Summer’s lease hath all too short a date.”

– William Shakespeare

“The way to ensure summer in England is to have it framed and glazed in a comfortable room.”

– Horace Walpole

“August creates as she slumbers, replete and satisfied.”

– Joseph Wood Krutch

“It is God in the house when the curtains lift gently at the windows, and a young child sucks his itching gums.

We do not understand the mysteries of God.

God the winter. Summer, September.

Moody dark tones of fathers dying.

The splash and laughter.

Children playing.”

– Ellease Southerland

“Oh that I could see to the Other Realm –

that I could learn the magic of the Ancients.

Oh that the secrets of the Druids

could be whispered in my ears

that I might know their beauty and their power –

that I might love again this land

and hear the voices of the Goddess and the God

in the trees and in the rivers.”

– Damh the Bard

“When on a summer’s morn I wake,

And open my two eyes,

Out to the clear, born-singing rills

My bird-like spirit flies.

To hear the Blackbird, Cuckoo, Thrush,

Or any bird in song;

And common leaves that hum all day

Without a throat or tongue.

And when Time strikes the hour for sleep,

Back in my room alone,

My heart has many a sweet bird’s song —

And one that’s all my own.”

– William Henry Davies, When on a Summer’s Morn

“From the great trees the locusts cry

In quavering ecstatic duo–a boy

Shouts a wild call–a mourning dove

In the blue distance sobs–the wind

Wanders by, heavy with odors

Of corn and wheat and melon vines;

The trees tremble with delirious joy as the breeze

Greets them, one by one–now the oak

Now the great sycamore, now the elm.”

– Hamlin Garland

“When the blackberries hang

swollen in the woods, in the brambles

nobody owns, I spend

all day among the high

branches, reaching

my ripped arms, thinking

of nothing, cramming

the black honey of summer

into my mouth; all day my body

accepts what it is. In the dark

creeks that run by there is

this thick paw of my life darting among

the black bells, the leaves; there is

this happy tongue.”

– Mary Oliver, August

“People don’t notice whether it’s winter or summer when they’re happy.”

– Anton Chekhov

“If there were no tribulation, there would be no rest; if there were no winter, there would be no summer.”

– St. John Chrysostom

“August, the eighth month of the current Gregorian calendar and the third month of Summer’s rule, derives its name from Augustus (Augustus Caesar). The traditional birthstone amulets of August are the peridot and the sardonyx; and the gladiolus and the poppy are the month’s traditional flowers. August is shared by the astrological signs of Leo the Lion and Virgo the Virgin, and is sacred to the following Pagan deities: Ceres, the Corn Mother, Demeter, John Barleycorn, Lugh, and all goddesses who preside over agriculture. During the month of August, the Great Solar Wheel of the Year is turned to Lammas, one of the four Grand Sabbats celebrated each year by Wiccans and modern Witches throughout the world.”

– Secrets of a Witch