“I cannot endure to waste anything so precious as autumnal sunshine by staying in the house.” ~ Nathaniel Hawthorne, The American Notebooks October 10, 1842ġ6.
“Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower.” ~ Albert Camusġ5. “The autumn leaves blew over the moonlit pavement in such a way as to make the girl who was moving there seem fixed to a sliding walk, letting the motion of the wind and the leaves carry her forward…The trees overhead made a great sound of letting down their dry rain.” ~ Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451ġ4. "I loved autumn, the one season of the year that God seemed to have put there just for the beauty of it." ~ Lee Maynardġ3. "Autumn…the year’s last, loveliest smile." ~ William Cullen Bryantġ2.
“I'm so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers.” ~ L.M. The time when everything bursts with its last beauty, as if nature had been saving up all year for the grand finale.” ~ Lauren DeStefano, Witherġ0. “Fall has always been my favorite season. “It was one of those perfect English autumnal days which occur more frequently in memory than in life.” ~ P.D. “It was a beautiful bright autumn day, with air like cider and a sky so blue you could drown in it.” ~ Diana Gabaldon, OutlanderĨ. "Life starts all over again when it gets crisp in the fall." ~ F. Radiant meadows, mountains vaporous in the trembling distance leaves ankle-deep on a gusty autumn road bonfires and fog in the valleys cellos, dark window-panes, snow.” ~ Donna Tartt, The Secret HistoryĦ. “Even now I remember those pictures, like pictures in a storybook one loved as a child. “He found himself wondering at times, especially in the autumn, about the wild lands, and strange visions of mountains that he had never seen came into his dreams.” ~ J.R.R. “Aprils have never meant much to me, autumns seem that season of beginning, spring." ~ Truman Capote, Breakfast at Tiffany'sĤ.
Autumn quotes anne of green gables full#
With dear days when the austere woods were beautiful and gracious in a dignified serenity of folded hands and closed eyes - days full of a fine, pale sunshine that sifted through the late, leafless gold of the juniper-trees and glimmered among the grey beeches, lighting up evergreen banks of moss and washing the colonnades of the pines.” ― L.M. With murky red sunsets flaming in smoky crimson behind the westering hills. “November - with uncanny witchery in its changed trees.
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