Quotes About Autumn

October is the fallen leaf, but it is also a wider horizon more clearly seen. It is the distant hills once more in sight, and the enduring constellations above them once again.

October is a mighty month...

come scarlet leaves and falling light this time of year — October-blood runs through the veins of autumn — slowing heartbeat and longer breaths shorter daytimes and chilling nights warm hearts and sanguine thoughts

There are two times of year: October and waiting for October.

My favorite color is October.

October's Autumn casts a gentle light and a calm serenity before the stark barrenness of Winter is born to November

Oh, come to the woods, the merry green woods, While gaily the autumn leaves fall. Just look overhead, 'mid leaves brown and red, The squirrels all chatter and call, "October is here, the Queen of the Year, Merry, merry, October!" Oh, out in the woods, the merry green woods, The fairies their revels will keep; Then, when it is dark, comes the Frost Spirit—hark! He is singing the flowers to sleep! "October is here, the Queen of the Year, Merry, merry October!"

...the swirling autumn leaves of a poet's dying words...

I can smell autumn dancing in the breeze. The sweet chill of pumpkin and crisp sunburnt leaves.

October is the month When the smallest breeze Gives us a shower Of autumn leaves. Bonfires and pumpkins, Leaves sailing down — October is red And golden and brown...

My favorite season is pumpkin spice.

Keep calm and pumpkin spice everything.

Have you ever been out for a late autumn walk in the closing part of the afternoon, and suddenly looked up to realize that the leaves have practically all gone? You hadn't realized it. And you notice that the sun has set already, the day gone before you knew it — and with that a cold wind blows across the landscape. That's retirement.

There's no one season such delight can bring As summer, autumn, winter, and the spring.

To me it seems that youth is like spring, an overpraised season — delightful if it happen to be a favoured one, but in practice very rarely favoured and more remarkable, as a general rule, for biting east winds than genial breezes. Autumn is the mellower season, and what we lose in flowers we more than gain in fruits.

[S]ome of the rarest days of the year come in September, days when it is comfortably cool but pulsing with life.

Of autumn months September is the prime, Now day and night are equal in each clime, The twelfth of this Sol rises in the Line, And doth in poising Libra this month shine...

Best I love September's yellow; Morns of dew-strung gossamer, Thoughtful days without a stir, Rooky clamours, brazen leaves, Stubbles dotted o'er with sheaves,— More than Spring's bright uncontrol Suit the Autumn of my soul.

Soft-eyed September...

Where lurk the merry elves of autumn now, In this bright breezy month of equinox?...

September comes, and... Summer thins away.

So I dreamed. Aye one remembers With a sigh those dear Septembers; And I start, as well I may: I have wasted half a day.

September... dearest month of all to pensive minds!

By all these lovely tokens September days are here, With summer's best of weather, And autumn's best of cheer...