Browsing Topic Best Fall Autumn Quotes

Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower.

Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature’s peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The winds will blow their own freshness into you, and the storms their energy, while cares will drop away from you like the leaves of Autumn.

Every leaf speaks bliss to me, fluttering from the autumn tree.

In the entire circle of the year there are no days so delightful as those of a fine October.

I prefer winter and fall, when you feel the bone structure of the landscape. Something waits beneath it; the whole story doesn’t show.

Love the trees until their leaves fall off, then encourage them to try again next year.

Nature is, above all, profligate. Don’t believe them when they tell you how economical and thrifty nature is, whose leaves return to the soil. Wouldn’t it be cheaper to leave them on the tree in the first place? This deciduous business alone is a radical scheme, the brainchild of a deranged manic-depressive with limitless capital. Extravagance! Nature will try anything once.

The approach of night The skies yet blushing with departing light, When falling dews with spangles deck’d the glade, And the low sun had lengthen’d ev’ry shade.

It was a beautiful bright autumn day, with air like cider and a sky so blue you could drown in it.

The autumn always gets me badly, as it breaks into colours. I want to go south, where there is no autumn, where the cold doesn’t crouch over one like a snow-leopard waiting to pounce.

The season for enjoying the fullness of life – partaking of the harvest, sharing the harvest with others, and reinvesting and saving portions of the harvest for yet another season of growth.

Besides the Autumn poets sing, A few prosaic days, A little this side of the snow, And that side of the Haze…, Grant me, Oh Lord, a sunny mind- Thy windy will to bear!

Change is a measure of time and, in the autumn, time seems speeded up. What was is not and never again will be; what is is change.

Autumn burned brightly, a running flame through the mountains, a torch flung to the trees.

Delicious autumn! My very soul is wedded to it, and if I were a bird I would fly about the earth seeking the successive autumns.

Autumn arrives in early morning, but spring at the close of a winter day.

A few days ago I walked along the edge of the lake and was treated to the crunch and rustle of leaves with each step I made. The acoustics of this season are different and all sounds, no matter how hushed, are as crisp as autumn air.

Summer makes me drowsy. Autumn makes me sing. Winter’s pretty lousy, but I hate Spring.

Why is summer mist romantic and autumn mist just sad?

Delicious autumn! My very soul is wedded to it.

Part of you died each year when the leaves fell from the trees and their branches were bare against the wind and the cold, wintry light.

A wind has blown the rain away and blown the sky away and all the leaves away, and the trees stand. I think, I too, have known autumn too long.

I would rather sit on a pumpkin and have it all to myself, than be crowded on a velvet cushion.

Autumn arrives in the early morning.

Autumn is the eternal corrective. It is ripeness and color and a time of maturity; but it is also breadth, and depth, and distance. What man can stand with autumn on a hilltop and fail to see the span of his world and the meaning of the rolling hills that reach to the far horizon?

For man, autumn is a time of harvest, of gathering together. For nature, it is a time of sowing, of scattering abroad.

Autumn is a season followed immediately by looking forward to spring.

The leaves fall, the wind blows, and the farm country slowly changes from the summer cottons into its winter woods.

Summer ends, and Autumn comes, and he who would have it otherwise would have high tide always and a full moon every night.

Life starts all over again when it gets crisp in the fall.

Is not this a true autumn day? Just the still melancholy that I love – that makes life and nature harmonise. The birds are consulting about their migrations, the trees are putting on the hectic or the pallid hues of decay, and begin to strew the ground, that one’s very footsteps may not disturb the repose of earth and air, while they give us a scent that is a perfect anodyne to the restless spirit. Delicious autumn! My very soul is wedded to it, and if I were a bird I would fly about the earth seeking the successive autumns.

The morns are meeker than they were,The nuts are getting brown;The berry’s cheek is plumper,The rose is out of town.The maple wears a gayer scarf,The field a scarlet gown.Lest I should be old-fashioned,I’ll put a trinket on.

You expected to be sad in the fall. Part of you died each year when the leaves fell from the trees and their branches were bare against the wind and the cold, wintery light. But you knew there would always be the spring, as you knew the river would flow again after it was frozen. When the cold rains kept on and killed the spring, it was as though a young person died for no reason.

By all these lovely tokens September days are here, With summer’s best of weather And autumn’s best of cheer.

Lest I should be old-fashioned,I’ll put a trinket on.