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 carries more gold in its pocket than all the other seasons.
Autumn wins you best by this, its mute appeal to sympathy for its decay.
I trust in nature for the stable laws of beauty and utility. Spring shall plant and autumn garner to the end of time.
Winter is an etching, spring a watercolor, summer an oil painting, and autumn a mosaic of them all.
I cannot endure to waste anything so precious as autumnal sunshine by staying in the house.
Listen! The wind is rising, and the air is wild with leaves, we have had our summer evenings, now for October eves!
Every leaf speaks bliss to me, fluttering from the autumn tree.
Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower.
How beautifully leaves grow old. How full of light and color are their last days.
The only thing more beautiful than the colors of fall is the silence that follows it.
Autumn burned brightly, a running flame through the mountains, a torch flung to the trees.
Even if something is left undone, everyone must take time to sit still and watch the leaves turn.
Life starts all over again when it gets crisp in the fall.
I'm so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers.
Autumn...the year's last, loveliest smile.