#autumn

It's September 21st, a day I love for the balance it carries with it. ↗

— Pam Houston

#equinox #fall #love

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

— Chad Sugg

#encourage #fall #inspirational #life #love

The smell of burning firewood and the molding of organic, earthy substances reminded her of jumping wildly into the enormous leaf piles of autumns past and she suddenly wished that it was appropriate for someone her age to do such a thing. ↗

— Abby Slovin

#funny #humor #age

What had brought me to New York in the autumn of 1972 was a letter of recommendation written by Norman Mailer, the author of 'The Naked and the Dead' and American literature's leading heavyweight contender, to Dan Wolf, the delphic editor of 'The Village Voice.' ↗

— James Wolcott

#author #autumn #brought #contender #dan

As he walked, the sad faded leaves were driven pitilessly around him by the wind, and under the mingling influences of autumn and evening, a craving for the quietude of the grave … overtook him with unwanted intensity. ↗

— Georges Rodenbach

#death #death

It always is harder to be left behind than to be the one to go... ↗

— Brock Thoene

#goodbyes #sadness #truths #autumn

Her pleasure in the walk must arise from the exercise and the day, from the view of the last smiles of the year upon the tawny leaves and withered hedges, and from repeating to herself some few of the thousand poetical descriptions extant of autumn--that season of peculiar and inexhaustible influence on the mind of taste and tenderness--that season which has drawn from every poet worthy of being read some attempt at description, or some lines of feeling. ↗

— Jane Austen

#fall #nature #pleasure #poets #seasons

August rain: the best of the summer gone, and the new fall not yet born. The odd uneven time. ↗

— Sylvia Plath

#fall #nature #seasons #summer #time

Autumn is the mellower season, and what we lose in flowers we more than gain in fruits. ↗

— Samuel Butler

#fruit #nature #nature

At no other time (than autumn) does the earth let itself be inhaled in one smell, the ripe earth; in a smell that is in no way inferior to the smell of the sea, bitter where it borders on taste, and more honeysweet where you feel it touching the first sounds. Containing depth within itself, darkness, something of the grave almost. ↗

— Rainer Maria Rilke

#autumn #scent #autumn