“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
“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
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
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
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
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
“Some people thought spring was the time of renewal, but Sadie had always equated that feeling with autumn. It felt like a… — Cerella Sechrist Copy Share Image
Two monks sit facing, playing chess on the mountain, The bamboo shadow on the board is dark and clear. Not a person… — Bai Juyi Copy Share Image
“I was only twelve. But I knew how much I loved her. It was that love that comes before all significance of… — Ray Bradbury Copy Share Image
I love borders. August is the border between summer and autumn; it is the most beautiful month I know. Twilight is the… — Tove Jansson Copy Share Image
“There will be snow driving in from all directions, fierce winds, and cold colder than you have ever imagined cold could be,… — Neil Gaiman Copy Share Image
“The Reaper's Harvest by Stewart Stafford Vast underworld gates open on Samhain night, The grail Sun winters there, in paling sight. Unquiet… — Stewart Stafford Copy Share Image
It is noticeable how intuitively in age we go back with strange fondness to all that is fresh in the earliest dawn… — Edward Bulwer-Lytton, 1st Baron Lytton Copy Share Image
“The mellow autumn came, and with it came The promised party, to enjoy its sweets. The corn is cut, the manor full… — Anonymous Copy Share Image
“October Fire In the churchyard, flames, the Burning Bush, a maple touched to fire, by autumn fanned. Were I possessed as Moses… — Bettie M. Sellers Copy Share Image
Life and death are nothing but the mind. Years, months, days, and hours are nothing but the mind. Dreams, illusions, and mirages… — Dogen Copy Share Image
The foliage has been losing its freshness through the month of August, and here and there a yellow leaf shows itself like… — Anonymous Copy Share Image
“Methinks I see the sunset light flooding the river valley, the western hills stretching to the horizon, overhung with trees gorgeous and… — John Greenleaf Whittier Copy Share Image
A few days ago I walked along the edge of the lake and was treated to the crunch and rustle of leaves… — Eric Sloane Copy Share Image
Whenever we come upon one of those intensely right words in a book or a newspaper the resulting effect is physical as… — Mark Twain Copy Share Image
“Life does not cease when you are old, it only suffers a rich change. You go on loving, only your love, instead… — Jane Ellen Harrison Copy Share Image
“Ten thousand flowers in spring, the moon in autumn, a cool breeze in summer, snow in winter. If your mind isn’t clouded… — Arianna Huffington Copy Share Image
“The autumn leaves blazed a trail down the mountainside, spilling into a pool of cornfields outside of town. Mesmerized by nature’s beauty… — Anita Estes Copy Share Image
When autumn comes, it doesn't ask. It just walks in, where it left you last. And you never know, when it starts;… — John Mayer Copy Share Image
“Mrs. Miniver suddenly understood why she was enjoying the forties so much better than she had enjoyed the thirties: it was the… — Jan Struther Copy Share Image
He is no longer a city dweller who has even once in his life caught a ruff or seen how, on clear… — Anton Chekhov Copy Share Image
There was once a boy who wrote a song on a autumn day the wind was blowing gently in his face thoughts… — Ryan Davies Copy Share Image
Autumn arrives like a warrior with the stain of blood upon his brazen mail. His crimson scarf is rent. His scarlet banner… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
“The over-ripe, golden autumn which had taken hold of the town tugged at our heartstrings. The nomadic life makes you sensitive to… — Nicolas Bouvier Copy Share Image
In California in the early Spring, There are pale yellow mornings, when the mist burns slowly into day, The air stings like… — Robert Hass Copy Share Image
The trees are Indian Princes, But soon they'll turn to Ghosts; The scanty pears and apples Hang russet on the bough; Its… — William Allingham Copy Share Image
Simplicity is the character of the spring of life, costliness becomes its autumn; but a neatness and purity, like that of the… — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Copy Share Image
All who have travelled through the delicious scenery of North Devon must needs know the little white town of Bideford, which slopes… — Charles Kingsley Copy Share Image
October, here's to you. Here's to the heady aroma of the frost-kissed apples, the winey smell of ripened grapes, the wild-as-the-wind smell… — Ken Weber Copy Share Image
“In the summer the place was verdant with life, in the autumn it was splashed with color, in the winter it was… — Anonymous Copy Share Image
Besides the Autumn poets sing, A few prosaic days, A little this side of the snow, And that side of the Haze...,… — Emily Dickinson Copy Share Image
“October made the leaves on Main Street fit for a crown. They dripped from the trees in jewel-toned shades: yellow and orange… — Natalie Lloyd Copy Share Image
There is something in the autumn that is native to my blood- Touch of manner, hint of mood; And my heart is… — Bliss Carman Copy Share Image
TIME WENT ON, life with the children unfolding in its own ecosystem, small plastic toys seeming to grow up from the carpet… — Erica Bauermeister Copy Share Image
“DUMB AUTUMN SMELLS. The marguerite, unbroken, passed between home and chasm through your memory. A strange lostness was palpably present, almost you… — Paul Celan Copy Share Image
