Autumn Quotes - Page 21

• Autumn is really the best of the seasons; and I'm not sure that old age isn't the best part of life.

  C. S. Lewis

  Age, Aging, Not Sure

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• It's never too late to have a fling
  For autumn is just as nice as spring
  And it's never too late to fall in love.

  Sandy Wilson

  Falling In Love, Spring, Nice

  It's Never too Late to Fall in Love (1953 song)

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• 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.

  Al Purdy

  Time, Fall, Earth

  1962 Poems forAll theAnnettes,'Pause' (revised1968).

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• As the days grow short, some faces grow long. But not mine. Every autumn, when the wind turns cold and darkness comes early, I am suddenly happy. It's time to start making soup again.

  Leslie Newman

  Food, Wind, Long

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• I am struck by the simplicity of light in the atmosphere in the autumn, as if the earth absorbed none, and out of this profusion of dazzling light came the autumnal tints.

  Henry David Thoreau

  Light, Simplicity, Atmosphere

  Henry David Thoreau (1892). “Autumn: From the Journal of Henry D. Thoreau”

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• An extra yawn one morning in the springtime, an extra snooze one night in the autumn is all that we ask in return for dazzling gifts. We borrow an hour one night in April; we pay it back with golden interest five months later.

  Winston Churchill

  Morning, Night, Golden

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• In spring when maple buds are red,
  We turn the clock an hour ahead;
  Which means, each April that arrives,
  We lose an hour out of our lives.
  
  Who cares? When autumn birds in flocks
  Fly southward, back we turn the clocks,
  And so regain a lovely thing
  That missing hour we lost in spring.

  Phyllis McGinley

  Spring, Mean, Bird

  Phyllis McGinley, “Daylight Savings Time”

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• Cut out the love of self, like an autumn lotus with thy hand!

  Gautama Buddha

  Cutting, Self, Hands

  Gautama Buddha (2013). “The Dhammapada”, p.37, Simon and Schuster

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• The damps of autumn sink into the leaves and prepare them for the necessity of their fall; and thus insensibly are we, as years close around us, detached from our tenacity of life by the gentle pressure of recorded sorrow.

  Walter Savage Landor

  Fall, Years, Sorrow

  Walter Savage Landor (1853). “The Works of Walter Savage Landor”, p.318

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• Our feelings probably are not less strong at fifty than they were ten or fifteen years before; but they have changed their objects, and dwell on far different prospects. At five-and-thirty a man thinks of what his own existence is; when the maturity of age has grown into its autumn, he is wrapt up in that of others. The loss of wife or child then becomes more deplorable, as being impossible to repair; for no fresh connection can give us back the companion of our earlier years, nor a "new-sprung race" compensate for that, whose career we hoped to see run.

  Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley

  Running, Strong, Children

  Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley (1835). “Lodore”, p.45

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• Through the dripping weeks that follow One another slow, and soak Summer's extinguished fire and autumn's drifting smoke.

  Alfred Austin

  Summer, Fire, Week

  Alfred Austin (1896). “Days of the Year: A Poetic Calendar from the Works of A. Austin”

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• What if the leaves were to fall a-weeping, and say, "It will be so painful for us to be pulled from our stalks, when autumn comes?" Foolish fear! Summer goes, and autumn succeeds. The glory of death is upon the leaves; and the gentlest breeze that blows takes them softly and silently from the bough, and they float slowly down, like fiery sparks, upon the moss.

  Henry Ward Beecher

  Summer, Fall, Blow

  Henry Ward Beecher (1858). “Life Thoughts”, p.110

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• All perfect things are saddening in effect. The autumn wood robed in its scarlet clothes, The matchless tinting on the royal rose Whose velvet leaf by no least flaw is flecked. Love's supreme moment, when the soul unchecked Soars high as heaven, and its best rapture knows, These hold a deeper pathos than our woes, Since they leave nothing better to expect.

  Ella Wheeler Wilcox

  Clothes, Perfection, Rose

  Ella Wheeler Wilcox (2012). “Leafs On An Idle Breeze - My Inspirational Poems (Annotated Edition)”, p.658, Jazzybee Verlag

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• Coldly, sadly descends The autumn evening. The Field Strewn with its dank yellow drifts Of wither'd leaves, and the elms, Fade into dimness apace, Silent; hardly a shout From a few boys late at their play!

  Matthew Arnold

  Boys, Play, Yellow

  'Rugby Chapel, November 1857'

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• When on the breath of Autumn's breeze, From pastures dry and brown, Goes floating, like an idle thought, The fair, white thistle-down; O, then what joy to walk at will, Upon the golden harvest-hill!

  Mary Howitt

  White, Joy, Floating

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• Bricks should be made in Spring or Autumn so that they may dry uniformly.

  Marcus Vitruvius Pollio

  Spring, Dry, May

  "De architectura". Book by Vitruvius. Book II, Chapter III, Section 2,

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• With the ripening of the fruits in Autumn the leaves begin to wither and the trees, taking up their sap from the earth through the roots, recover themselves and are restored to their former solid texture. But the strong air of winter compresses and solidifies them.

  Marcus Vitruvius Pollio

  Strong, Winter, Air

  "The Ten Books On Architecture". Book by Marcus Vitruvius Pollio, Book II, Chapter IX, Sec. 2, c. 15 BC.

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• Autumn
  Into earth's lap does throw
  Brown apples gay in a game of play,
  As the equinoctials blow.

  Dinah Maria Murlock Craik

  Gay, Blow, Games

  Dinah Maria Mulock Craik, “October”

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• He is no longer a city dweller who has even once in his life caught a ruff or seen how, on clear and cool autumn days, flocks of migrating thrushes drift over a village. Until his death he will be drawn to freedom.

  Anton Chekhov

  Nature, Freedom, Cities

  "Gooseberries". Short story by Anton Chekhov, 1898.

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• It is noticeable how intuitively in age we go back with strange fondness to all that is fresh in the earliest dawn of youth. If we never cared for little children before, we delight to see them roll in the grass over which we hobble on crutches. The grandsire turns wearily from his middle-aged, careworn son, to listen with infant laugh to the prattle of an infant grandchild. It is the old who plant young trees; it is the old who are most saddened by the autumn; and feel most delight in the returning spring.

  Edward Bulwer-Lytton, 1st Baron Lytton

  Children, Spring, Son

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• anyone lived in a pretty how town
  (with up so floating many bells down)
  spring summer autumn winter
  he sang his didn't he danced his did.

  e. e. cummings

  Summer, Spring, Winter

  '50 Poems' (1949) no. 29

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• what if a much of a which of a wind
  gives the truth to summer's lie;
  bloodies with dizzying leaves the sun
  and yanks immortal stars awry?

  e. e. cummings

  Summer, Stars, Lying

  e. e. cummings (2014). “100 Selected Poems”, p.75, Grove/Atlantic, Inc.

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• When you live on Cold Mountain long enough the autumns pass quickly When you live alone you have no worries When you leave the doors open no one bothers you The bubbling stream runs forever In the cave a clay pot boils over a fire on the ground A wandering breeze stirs the fragrant pines When hungry I eat one simple meal And lean against the rock in complete harmony

  Hanshan

  Running, Simple, Fire

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• All who have travelled through the delicious scenery of North Devon must needs know the little white town of Bideford, which slopes upwards from its broad tide-river paved with yellow sands, and many-arched old bridge, where salmon wait for Autumn floods, toward the pleasant upland on the west.

  Charles Kingsley

  Book, Bridges, Rivers

  Charles Kingsley (1871). “Westward Ho! Or, The Voyages and Adventures of Sir Amyas Leigh, Knight, of Bourrough, in the County of Devon, in the Reign of Her Most Glorious Majesty, Queen Elizabeth”, p.1

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• There's four seasons in the UK, spring, autumn, winter and winter.

  Steve Fowler

  Spring, Winter, Four

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