Quotes About Autumn

Flowers that had bloomed brilliant from spring through autumn blackened under the killing frost.

November afternoon in her

Now is the autumn of our ennui.

Everything in the garden is dying, that's what time of year it is. The leaves blaze and desiccate in their dying before twisting to the ground as ash.

When he heard autumn leaves skuttling in the wind, he remembered that chuckle.

But frost, like the crystallized dreams of autumn, began to coat the clearing with its sugar glaze.

I enjoy the spring more than the autumn now. One does, I think, as one gets older.

Moths that fly by day are not properly to be called moths; they do not excite that pleasant sense of dark autumn nights and ivy-blossom which the commonest yellow-underwing asleep in the shadow of the curtain never fails to rouse in us. They are hybrid creatures, neither gay like butterflies nor sombre like their own species. Nevertheless the present specimen, with his narrow hay-coloured wings, fringed with a tassel of the same colour, seemed to be content with life.

The autumn trees, ravaged as they are, take on the flash of tattered flags kindling in the gloom of cool cathedral caves where gold letters on marble pages describe death in battle and how bones bleach and burn far away in Indian sands.

The beautiful feet of the summer, So late by the woodland and rill, With slow, lingering movement are going Down the brown, southern slopes of the hills; Her dreamy-eyed sister, the autumn, Looks down at the summer-clad trees, And, 'neath her cool breathing, a garment Of brown is put on by the leaves.

Autumn is the time when Nature takes her watercolor to the trees.

Come, Autumn Roll your red-gold wave Gently Across the good earth.

The leave are changing; I feel poetry in the air.

There are few things finer than a walk among the trees on an autumn day.

The fear of being noticed after a hundred years disappears as I look into a pair of autumn-colored eyes.

The autumn leaf falls faster than the trees grow faster. (La feuille d'automne descend plus vite - Que les arbres ne grandissent plus vite.)

Around and around the house the leaves fall thick—but never fast, for they come circling down with a dead lightness that is sombre and slow. Let the gardener sweep and sweep the turf as he will, and press the leaves into full barrows, and wheel them off, still they lie ankle-deep.

Around and around the house the leaves fall thick - but never fast, for they come circling down with a dead lightness that is sombre and slow.

It was sufficiently late in the year for the orchards to be ruddy with ripe apples; and in a few places the hop-pickers were already at work. I thought it all extremely beautiful, and made up my mind to sleep among the hops that night: imagining some cheerful companionship in the long perspectives of poles, with the graceful leaves twining

with a sharp nose like a sharp autumn evening, inclining to be frosty towards the end.

It was one of those perfect English autumnal days which occur more frequently in memory than in life. The rich colours of grass and earth were intensified by the mellow light of a sun almost warm enough for spring...

Trees bend down with plum and pear, Rosy apples scent the air, Nuts are ripening everywhere.

For anyone who lives in the oak-and-maple area of New England there is a perennial temptation to plunge into a purple sea of adjectives about October.

Sweet October, fill with praise, Rich and glowing as thy days, Every poet's heartfelt lays.