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Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower.
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.
My sorrow, when she's here with me, thinks these dark days of autumn rain are beautiful as days can be; she loves the bare, the withered tree; she walks the sodden pasture lane.
I saw old Autumn in the misty morn stand shadowless like silence, listening to silence.
Now Autumn's fire burns slowly along the woods and day by day the dead leaves fall and melt.
The garden of love is green without limit and yields many fruits other than sorrow or joy. Love is beyond either condition: without spring, without autumn, it is always fresh.
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.
The spring, summer, is quite a hectic time for people in their lives, but then it comes to autumn, and to winter, and you can't but help think back to the year that was, and then hopefully looking forward to the year that is approaching.
Autumn arrives in early morning, but spring at the close of a winter day.
It is only the farmer who faithfully plants seeds in the Spring, who reaps a harvest in the Autumn.
