Quotes on Autumn

But I remember more dearly autumn afternoons in bottoms that lay intensely silent under old great trees

The harvested fields bathed in the autumn mist speak of God and his goodness far more vividly than any human lips.

When autumn darkness falls, what we will remember are the small acts of kindness: a cake, a hug, an invitation to talk, and every single rose. These are all expressions of a nation coming together and caring about its people.

Glorious are the woods in their latest gold and crimson.

Thou blossom bright with autumn dew, And colored with the heaven's own blue.

To me, fair friend, you never can be old, _x000D_ _x000D_ For as you were when first your eye I eyed,_x000D_ _x000D_ Such seems your beauty still. Three winters cold _x000D_ _x000D_ Have from the forests shook three summers' pride,_x000D_ _x000D_ Three beauteous springs to yellow autumn turn'd _x000D_ _x000D_ In process of the seasons have I seen, _x000D_ _x000D_ Three April perfumes in three hot Junes burn'd,_x000D_ _x000D_ Since first I saw you fresh, which yet are green.

But then fall comes, kicking summer out on its treacherous ass as it always does one day sometime after the midpoint of September, it stays awhile like an old friend that you have missed. It settles in the way an old friend will settle into your favorite chair and take out his pipe and light it and then fill the afternoon with stories of places he has been and things he has done since last he saw you.

Ere, in the northern gale,_x000D_ _x000D_ The summer tresses of the trees are gone, _x000D_ _x000D_ The woods of Autumn, all around our vale, _x000D_ _x000D_ Have put their glory on.

When I speak My lips feel cold - The autumn wind.

In the other gardens_x000D_ _x000D_ And all up the vale,_x000D_ _x000D_ From the autumn bonfies_x000D_ _x000D_ See the smoke trail!_x000D_ _x000D_ Pleasant summer over_x000D_ _x000D_ And all the summer flowers,_x000D_ _x000D_ The red fire blazes,_x000D_ _x000D_ the grey smoke towers._x000D_ _x000D_ Sing a song of seasons!_x000D_ _x000D_ Something bright in all,_x000D_ _x000D_ Flowers in the summer_x000D_ _x000D_ Fires in the fall!

In the entire circle of the year there are no days so delightful as those of a fine October, when the trees are bare to the mild heavens, and the red leaves bestrew the road, and you can feel the breath of winter, morning and evening - no days so calm, so tenderly solemn, and with such a reverent meekness in the air.

The falling leaves drift by the window The autumn leaves of red and gold.... I see your lips, the summer kisses The sunburned hands, I used to hold Since you went away, the days grow long And soon I'll hear ol' winter's song. But I miss you most of all my darling, When autumn leaves start to fall.

It breaks your heart. It is designed to break your heart. The game begins in spring, when everything else begins again, and it blossoms in the summer, filling the afternoons and evenings, and then as soon as the chill rains come, it stops and leaves you to face the fall alone.

Union of the weakest develops strength not wisdom. Can all men, together, avenge one of the leaves that have fallen in autumn? But the wise man avenges by building his city in snow.

Now Autumn's fire burns slowly along the woods, And day by day the dead leaves fall and melt, And night by night the monitory blast Wails in the key-hole, telling how it pass'd O'er empty fields, or upland solitudes, Or grim wide wave; and now the power is felt Of melancholy, tenderer in its moods Than any joy indulgent Summer dealt.

Uneasily the leaves fall at this season, forgetting what to do or where to go; the red amnesiacs of autumn drifting thru the graveyard forest. What they have forgotten they have forgotten: what they meant to do instead of fall is not in earth or time recoverable the fossils of intention, the shapes of rot.

A lonely man is a lonesome thing, a stone, a bone, a stick, a receptacle for Gilbey's gin, a stooped figure sitting at the edge of a hotel bed, heaving copious sighs like the autumn wind.

In the autumn of 1929 the mightiest of Americans were, for a brief time, revealed as human beings.

And I rose In rainy autumn And walked abroad in a shower of all my days.

If you look around, complacency is the great disease of your autumn years, and I work hard to prevent that.

I love to watch the fine mist of the night come on, The windows and the stars illumined, one by one, The rivers of dark smoke pour upward lazily, And the moon rise and turn them silver. I shall see The springs, the summers, and the autumns slowly pass; And when old Winter puts his blank face to the glass, I shall close all my shutters, pull the curtains tight, And build me stately palaces by candlelight.