Up: [[Seasons]] Created: 2026-10-29 > [!Orbit] Virginia Woolf > All the months are crude experiments, out of which the perfect September is made. > [!Orbit] Carole Maso in *The Art Lover* > What the light looks like in the pear trees, in October, is a hundred teardrops of gold, the whole orchard weeping. > [!Orbit] F. Scott Fitzgerald > Life starts all over again when it gets crisp in the fall. > [!Orbit] Wallace Stegner > Another fall, another turned page: there was something of jubilee in that autumnal beginning, as if last year’s mistakes had been wiped clean by summer. > [!Orbit] Henry David Thoreau > October is the month of painted leaves. Their rich glow now flashes round the world. As fruits and leaves and the day itself acquire a bright tint just before fall, so the year nears its setting. October is its sunset sky; November the later twilight. > [!Orbit] Nathaniel Hawthorne > I cannot endure to waste anything so precious as autumnal sunshine by staying in the house. > [!Orbit] L.M. Montgomery in *Anne of Green Gables* > I’m so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers. > [!Orbit] Donna Tartt in *The Secret History* > Even now I remember those pictures, like pictures in a storybook once loved as a child. Radiant meadows, mountains vaporous in the trembling distance; leaves ankle-deep on a gusty autumn road; bonfires and fog in the valleys; cellos, dark window-panes, snow. > [!Orbit] George Eliot > Is not this a true autumn day? Just the still melancholy that I love — that makes life and nature harmonize. The birds are consulting about their migrations, the trees are putting on the hectic or the pallid jues 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. > [!Orbit] Ray Bradbury in *Fahrneheit 451* > The autumn leaves blew over the moonlit pavement in such a way as to make the girl who was moving there seem fixed to a sliding walk, letting the motion of the wind and the leaves carry her forward. > [!Orbit] Joy Fielding > October was always the least dependable of months… full of ghosts and shadows. > [!Orbit] Henry Ward Beecher > October is the opal month of the year. It is the month of glory, of ripeness. It is the picture-month. > [!Orbit] Nathaniel Hawthorne (from a notebook) > There is no season when such pleasant and sunny spots may be lighted on, and produce so pleasant an effect on the feelings, as now in October. > [!Orbit] Albert Camus > Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower.