Such days of autumnal decline hold a strange mystery which adds to the gravity of all our moods.
Charles NodierTag: melancholy fall autumn
Night, which in Autumn seems to fall from the sky so suddenly, chilled us...
Jules Barbey d'AurevillyI ate breakfast in the kitchen by candle-light, and then drove the five miles to the station through the most glorious October colouring. The sun came up on the way, and the swamp maples and dogwood glowed crimson and orange and the stone walls and cornfields sparkled with hoar frost; the air was keen and clear and full of promise. I knew something was going to happen.
Jean WebsterTag: fall autumn jerusha-abbott
Autumn is the hardest season. The leaves are all falling, and they're falling like
they're falling in love with the ground.
Autumn is as joyful and sweet as an untimely end.
Remy de GourmontTag: melancholy fall autumn
I met Anne in the autumn... Autumn, that wild season when rural men rack orchard trees with sticks and weep with the desire to kiss faraway Demeter’s supple breasts—to set lips to her travel-swollen eyes. They seek goddesses, but I desired only Anne.
Roman PayneTag: life seasons autumn mortals payne goddesses demeter
An autumn garden has a sadness when the sun is not shining...
Francis Brett YoungAnd now, my poor old woman, why are you crying so bitterly? It is autumn. The leaves are falling from the trees like burning tears- the wind howls. Why must you mimic them?
Mervyn PeakeTag: simile poetic rain despair wit crying metaphor wind fall autumn cry howl shakespearean copy mimic
He had never liked October. Ever since he had first lay in the autumn leaves before his grandmother's house many years ago and heard the wind and saw the empty trees. It had made him cry, without a reason. And a little of that sadness returned each year to him. It always went away with spring.
But, it was a little different tonight. There was a feeling of autumn coming to last a million years.
There would be no spring. ("The October Game")
Nobody moved.
Everybody sat in the dark cellar, suspended in the suddenly frozen task of this October game; the wind blew outside, banging the house, the smell of pumpkins and apples filled the room with smell of the objects in their fingers while one boy cried, “I'll go upstairs and look!” and he ran upstairs hopefully and out around the house, four times around the house, calling, “Marion, Marion, Marion!” over and over and at last coming slowly down the stairs into the waiting breathing cellar and saying to the darkness, “I can't find her.”
Then... some idiot turned on the lights.
("The October Game")
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