Quotes About Autumn

In Heaven, it is always Autumn.

The bowed head, the buried face. She is silent, she will never speak, never forgive, never reach a hand, never leave this frozen present tense. All waits, suspended. Suspended the autumn trees, the autumn sky, anonymous people. A blackbird, poor fool, sings out of season from the willows by the lake. A flight of pigeons over the houses; fragments of freedom, hazard, an anagram made flesh. And somewhere the stinging smell of burning leaves.

October, not April, would be the cruelest month.

By autumn 2015, those who remained around Trump were rarely constraints on his behavior, and sometimes served to abet his worst instincts.

Solo me quedaba llenar mi cabeza de recuerdos que me alimentaran los meses siguientes, acumular una reserva de momentos felices para el otoño.

in the autumn of 684, Theodore – now in his early eighties – had been obliged to make his way laboriously northwards

The names of Northern railway stations in a timetable where he would like to imagine himself stepping from the train on an autumn evening when the trees are already bare and smelling strongly in the keen air, an insipid publication for people of taste, full of names that he has not heard since childhood, may have far greater value for him than five volumes of philosophy, and lead people of taste to say that for a man of talent, he has very stupid tastes.

It is comforting when one has a sorrow to lie in the warmth of one's bed and there, abandoning all effort and all resistance, to bury even one's head under the cover, giving one's self up to it completely, moaning like branches in the autumn wind. But there is still a better bed, full of divine odors. It is our sweet, our profound, our impenetrable friendship.

He'd made himself smile with all the rumination. He really ought to lighten up more, Lucas thought, as the last of the Corvettes went past. Hell, what are a couple more killers in a lifetime full of them? And he liked hunting, and what better day to do it than a fine blue day in the autumn of the year, with not a cloud in the heavens, when riding through a singularly beautiful tract of country, in a Porsche with the top down? Fuck a bunch of E. A. Poe. And his Raven.

To find not only that this bedlam of color was true but that the pictures were pale and inaccurate translations, was to me startling. I can't even imagine the forest colors when I am not seeing them. I wondered whether constant association could cause inattention, and asked a native New Hampshire woman about it. She said that autumn never failed to amaze her; to elate. 'It is a glory,' she said, 'and can't be remembered, so that it always comes as a surprise.

The climate changed quickly to cold and the trees burst into color, the reds and yellows you can't believe. It isn't only color but a glowing, as though the leaves gobbled the light of the autumn sun and then released it slowly. There's a quality of fire in these colors. I got high in the mountains before dusk.

It isn't only color but a glowing, as though the leaves gobbled the light of the autumn sun and then released it slowly.

The acrid scents of autumn, Reminiscent of slinking beasts, make me fear

Here's to Halloween, bonfires, making s'mores, wearing moccasins, drinking hot cocoa and cuddling. Happy October.

my sense of exaltation was due not only to admiration of the autumn tints but to a bodily desire. Ample source of a joy which the heart feels at first without being conscious of its cause, without understanding that it results from no external impulse!

But see, in our open clearings, how golden the melons lie; Enrich them with sweets and spices, and give us the pumpkin-pie!

For cooking always choose a "pie pumpkin" or "sugar pumpkin." They have much better flavor than those giant pumpkins you turn into a jack-o-lantern.

Thanks to Halloween... the cobwebs in our house have just become decorations!

Autumn has a drama, a magnificence that spring lacks. The greening of bushes and the first flowers are not as thrilling, not as life enriching somehow, as autumn. Autumn signals fulfilment, the success of the year. Spring is merely a time of promise.

In the rain-swept afternoon my heart discovers the tragedy of autumn raining from the trees.

Everything had a subdued and neutral tint; life at its best was calm and colourless, like a grey sunless day in early autumn, serene but joyless.

leaves still cling to the trees, but the sun is telling them to drop dead.

Along this road goes no one, this autumn eve.

On this road where nobody else travels autumn nightfall.