Autumn is a second spring where every leaf is a flower – Albert Camus.

October is a symphony of permanence and change – Bonaro W. Overstreet.

Unless a tree has borne blossoms in spring, you will vainly look for fruit on it in autumn – Chalres Hare.

Autumn Into earth’s lap does throw Brown apples gay in a game of play, As the equinoctials blow – Dinah Maria Mulock.

Summer makes me drowsy. Autumn makes me sing. Winter’s pretty lousy, but I hate Spring – Dorothy Parker.

Every leaf speaks bliss to me, fluttering from the autumn tree – Emily Bronte.

Autumn burned brightly, a running flame through the mountains, a torch flung to the trees – Faith Baldwin.

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 – George Eliot.

It was Autumn, and incessant Piped the quails from shocks and sheaves, And, like living coals, the apples Burned among the withering leaves – Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.

No spring nor summer beauty hath such grace. As I have seen in one autumnal face – John Donne.

They travel with a constant companion, autumn – Johann Wolfgang von Goethe.

All those golden autumn days the sky was full of wings. Wings beating low over the blue water of Silver Lake, wings beating high in the blue air far above it, bearing them all away to the green fields in the South – Laura Ingalls Wilder.

It was one of those perfect English autumnal days which occur more frequently in memory than in life – P.D. James.

Autumn wins you best by this its mute appeal to sympathy for its decay – Robert Browning.

Unless a tree has borne blossoms in spring, you will vainly look for fruit on it in autumn – Sir Walter Scott.

I saw old Autumn in the misty morn Stand shadowless like silence, listening To Silence – Thomas Hood.

I Like this quote I dislike this quote“Autumn’s the mellow time” – William Allingham.

Autumn, the year’s last, loveliest smile – William Cullen Bryant.

The teeming Autumn big with rich increase, bearing the wanton burden of the prime like widowed wombs after their lords decease – William Shakespeare.