Autumn Quotes
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By all these lovely tokens September days are here, With summer's best of weather And autumn's best of cheer.
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We cling to our own point of view, as though everything depended on it. Yet our opinions have no permanence; like autumn and winter, they gradually pass away.
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An Isaac Mizrahi fashion-show ticket signed by Steven Meisel. I rushed up to Meisel at the end of the show and asked him to autograph the card that had his name and seating assignment on it. It was an incredible moment when he shot the autumn/winter 2014 Moschino campaign.
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You wonder what I am doing? Well, so do I, in truth. Days seem to dawn, suns to shine, evenings to follow, and then I sleep. What I have done, what I am doing, what I am going to do, puzzle and bewilder me. Have you ever been a leaf and fallen from your tree in autumn and been really puzzled about it? That's the feeling.
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It is only the farmer who faithfully plants seeds in the Spring, who reaps a harvest in the Autumn.
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The birds laugh loud and long together When Fashion's followers speed away At the first cool breath of autumn weather. Why, this is the time, cry the birds, to stay! When the deep calm sea and the deep sky over Both look their passion through sun-kissed space, As a blue-eyed maid and her blue-eyed lover Might each gaze into the other's face.
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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.
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Unless a tree has borne blossoms in spring, you will vainly look for fruit on it in autumn.
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I came back out here from England and I was there for a while and it was beautiful and it is just great to see London going from Spring to Summer and Autumn.
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How the snow falls in the north! Flake on flake falling incessantly, until the small dingles are almost on a level with the uplands. It throws itself on the leaves of autumn, and holds them down in security from the strongest winds.
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The hush comes with the deepening of Autumn; but it comes gradually. Our ears are attuned to it, day by quieter day. But even now, if one awakens in the deep darkness of the small hours, one can hear it, a foretaste of Winter silence. It’s a little painful now, and a little lonely because it is so strange.
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I have been to Canada several times. It was autumn when I visited Vancouver, and I will always remember the colour of the trees in British Columbia were stunning.
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And getting married this autumn was certainly an additional incentive to spend rather more time in England.
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I had only heard about Fall Out Boy a couple months before we contacted him. I heard 'Saturday' and 'Grand Theft Autumn' and thought the lyrics were smart and the singer was insanely talented.
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She must have walked through life with men like him falling at her feet, squashing them underfoot like autumn leaves. It probably happened so often that all she noticed was that nice crunching sound.
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I also hear your president say that war is the means of last resort and I think he means that. I met him last autumn and he assured me that they wanted to come through and disarm Iraq by peaceful means, and that's what we are trying to do as hard as we can.
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Summer ends, and Autumn comes, and he who would have it otherwise would have high tide always and a full moon every night.
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The World Series is played in my doubtless too-nostalgic imagination in some kind of autumn afternoon light, and seeing it exclusively in the bitter chill of midnight breaks the spell of even the best of games.
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Excessive hype, bankruptcy, cash burning like autumn leaves - such is the stuff of short-selling.
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No man can taste the fruits of autumn while he is delighting his scent with the flowers of spring.
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It was one of those perfect autumn days so common in stories and so rare in the real world.
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I got my private pilot's license in autumn 1986.
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Over the weekend the vultures got into the presidential palace by pecking through the screens on the balcony windows and the flapping of their wings stirred up the stagnant time inside, and at dawn on Monday the city awoke out of its lethargy of centuries with the warm, soft breeze of a great man dead and rotting grandeur.
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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.'
