She smashes her knuckles into winter As autumn's wind fades into black She is the saint of all the sinners, the one… — Billie Joe Armstrong Copy Share Image
“The laughter of children filled the crisp air while off-beat rhythms of knocks and door bells mixed with a chorus of "trick… — Amber Newberry Copy Share Image
Few people younger than me know that it was once normal to see fields white with mushrooms, or rivers black with eels… — George Monbiot Copy Share Image
“they all listened intently and passed the story on in shades as varied as the turning leaves on the autumn beeches; on… — Tessa Harris Copy Share Image
Summer's the same, autumn is even more extreme. Then winter is when you sort of condense all of your ideas. You process… — Rene Redzepi Copy Share Image
If eternity had a season, it would be midsummer. Autumn, winter, spring are all change and passage, but at the height of… — Ursula K. Le Guin Copy Share Image
“Damn, I was lonely that autumn. I wished for a girl I could hang out with. I never really did anything to… — Henry Rollins Copy Share Image
In the spring of 1936, I was introduced by friends to Jean Tatlock. In the autumn, I began to court her. We… — J. Robert Oppenheimer Copy Share Image
“It was early autumn, then, before the snow began to fly. –(There’s an expression for you, born in the country, born from… — Howard O'Hagan Copy Share Image
I was twenty-one at the time, about to turn twenty-two. No prospect of graduating soon, and yet no reason to quit school.… — Haruki Murakami Copy Share Image
“Although it was autumn and not summer the dark-gold sunlight and the inky shadows, long and slender in the shape of felled… — John Banville Copy Share Image
“The autumn winds rushing Waft the leaves that are searest, But our flower was in flushing, When blighting was nearest. Fleet foot… — Sir Walter Scott Copy Share Image
“It was a trap. Later, if I heard the song played on the radio or at a club, i would think of… — Paulo Coelho Copy Share Image
“The soft scent of freshly fallen leaves tenderly permeated a forest ignited to a flaming brilliance with sizzling reds, burning oranges, and… — Craig D. Lounsbrough Copy Share Image
“November is usually such a disagreeable month...as if the year had suddenly found out that she was growing old and could do… — L.M. Montgomery Copy Share Image
“The garden has wrapped itself in autumn haze. An unusual autumn, lacking that thrill of vegetal warmth when the sap is still… — Emil Dorian Copy Share Image
What had brought me to New York in the autumn of 1972 was a letter of recommendation written by Norman Mailer, the… — James Wolcott Copy Share Image
“That night the first frost of autumn struck Tucker's Grove. It crept up from the ground, snaring the fragile roots of plants.… — Kevin J. Anderson Copy Share Image
The winter will be short, the summer long, The autumn amber-hued, sunny and hot, Tasting of cider and of scuppernong; All seasons… — Elinor Wylie Copy Share Image
“Without 'tis autumn, the wind beats on the pane With heavy drops, the leaves high upwards sweep. You take old letters from… — mihai eminescu Copy Share Image
I sit beside the fire and think of all that I have seen, of meadow-flowers and butterflies in summers that have been;… — J. R. R. Tolkien Copy Share Image
Autumn is the eternal corrective. It is ripeness and color and a time of maturity; but it is also breadth, and depth,… — Hal Borland Copy Share Image
The days may not be so bright and balmy...yet the quiet and melancholy that linger around them is fraught with glory. Over… — Northern Advocate Copy Share Image
They do not need the sun. Who needs the sun when the eyes glow? Darkness. A woolen fog has wrapped the earth,… — Yevgeny Zamyatin Copy Share Image
And yet one arrives somehow, finds himself loosening the hooks of her dress in a strange bedroom-- feels the autumn dropping its… — William Carlos Williams Copy Share Image
The earth's distances invite the eye. And as the eye reaches, so must the mind stretch to meet these new horizons. I… — Hal Borland Copy Share Image
The hush comes with the deepening of Autumn; but it comes gradually. Our ears are attuned to it, day by quieter day.… — Hal Borland Copy Share Image
Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature's peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The winds will… — John Muir Copy Share Image
“Autumn is a season of desperate hopes. The leaves are souls begging to turn life on pause. Begging to stop, begging to… — Teodora Savu Copy Share Image
“A good dog never dies. He always stays. He walks besides you on crisp autumn days when frost is on the fields… — Mary Carolyn Davies Copy Share Image
This sunlight shames November where he grieves In dead red leaves, and will not let him shun The day, though bough with… — Dante Gabriel Rossetti Copy Share Image
“His beard was all colors, a grove of trees in autumn, deep brown and fire-orange and wine-red, an untrimmed tangle across the… — Neil Gaiman Copy Share Image
“It was the final, explosive demonstration of summer, the line in the sand, a desperate attempt to hold fall forever at bay.… — Lauren Oliver Copy Share Image
“A wet autumn morning, a garbage truck clattering down the street. The first snowfall of the season, blossom sized flakes falling languidly… — Joyce carol Oates Copy Share Image
“Small unhurt sorrows approach the hospitals and every day the dead take off a suit of blood. The architectures of frost, the… — Federico García Lorca Copy Share Image
Shut up the door: who loves me must not look / Upon the withered world, but haste to bring / His lighted… — Alice Cary Copy Share Image
“Autumn leaves fall from the tree, disappear with the wind, but then reappear on the tree and disappear again. Memories are like… — Mehmet Murat ildan Copy Share Image
Cheyenne Autumn was received not too successfully. I still think it was a very good movie. It was kinda Ford's apology for… — Richard Widmark Copy Share Image
Eventually I realize that I am holding on to him just as tightly as he holds on to me. And here we… — Lauren DeStefano Copy Share Image
“When the leaves began to fall, all the visitors were gone, and the whistle from the train passing through Orange gave a… — Edna Lewis Copy Share Image
