Autumn, the year's last, loveliest smile.
Reading, after a certain age, diverts the mind too much from its creative pursuits. Any man who reads too much and uses his own brain too little falls into lazy habits of thinking.
"Failure" is not the falling down, but the staying down.
Unnoticed, the passage has occurred; as I brood, autumn dusk dewdrops fall on my pillow. The voices of insects and the deer by the fence, as one, disturb me to tears this autumn dusk.
Tragedy is when I cut my finger. Comedy is when you fall into an open sewer and die.
When bad men combine, the good must associate; else they will fall one by one, an unpitied sacrifice in a contemptible struggle.
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.
The wind that makes music in November corn is in a hurry. The stalks hum, the loose husks whisk skyward in half-playing swirls, and the wind hurries on.... A tree tries to argue, bare limbs waving, but there is no detaining the wind.
You don't learn to walk by following rules. You learn by doing, and by falling over.
Sometimes it takes a good fall to really know where you stand.
The heart wants what it wants. There's no logic to these things. You meet someone and you fall in love and that's that.
I've never known anyone yet who doesn't suffer a certain restlessness when autumn rolls around... We're all eight years old again and anything is possible.
Deep inside, we're still the boys of autumn, that magic time of the year that once swept us onto America's fields.
Is not this a true autumn day? Just the still melancholy that I love - that makes life and nature harmonise. The birds are consulting about their migrations, the trees are putting on the hectic or the pallid hues of decay, and begin to strew the ground, that one's very footsteps may not disturb the repose of earth and air, while they give us a scent that is a perfect anodyne to the restless spirit. 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.
I love to think of nature as an unlimited broadcasting station, through which God speaks to us every hour, if we will only tune in.
It is only the farmer who faithfully plants seeds in the Spring, who reaps a harvest in the Autumn.
I know the lands are lit, with all the autumn blaze of Goldenrod.
A man who stands for nothing will fall for anything.
To fall in love you have to be in the state of mind for it to take, like a disease.
Designers want me to dress like Spring, in billowing things. I don't feel like Spring. I feel like a warm red Autumn.
Climb the mountains and get their good tidings.
I used to jog but the ice cubes kept falling out of my glass.
Falling in love consists merely in uncorking the imagination and bottling the common sense.
There are a thousand hacking at the branches of evil to one who is striking at the root.
He is outside of everything, and alien everywhere. He is an aesthetic solitary. His beautiful, light imagination is the wing that on the autumn evening just brushes the dusky window.
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