Late Autumn Quotes

By late autumn the yard would grow thick with fallen leaves, causing the landlady to heave many deep sighs. ~ Takashi Hiraide

The fatigue I've gathered year after year and stored inside now heaves a muted cry of helplessness. Nothing but fatigue, rounding my shoulders, heavier than ever on this late autumn day with a useless sun, a world of unforgiving disasters. So many struggles and tragedies, so much sorrow and egotism in this dark, in this rotting century of hate. ~ Emil Dorian

One late autumn night, the disciple awoke crying. So the master asked the disciple, "Did you have a nightmare?" "No." "Did you have a sad dream?" "No," said the disciple. "I had a sweet dream." "Then why are you crying so sadly?" The disciple wiped his tears away and quietly answered, "Because the dream I had can't come true. ~ Sun-Woo

Late autumn this year had violence in her hair, angry crimson, orange, and yellow. The trees wrestled to free themselves of their cloaks, crumpled up their old leaves and threw them straight out into the string wind rather than just let them fall to the ground. Dry leaves ran across the ground with the crackle of fire. ~ Cecilia Ekbäck

For a breathtaking moment;
I spoke the language of the fleeing leaves
When the sky is shrouded in darkness
Of incoming Ravens in black plumage. ~ Kristian Goldmund Aumann

The existence of the terrible in every particle of the air. You breathe it in as part of something transparent; but within you it precipitates, hardens, acquires angular, geometrical forms in among your organs; for all the torments and horrors suffered at places of execution, in torture chambers, in madhouses, in operating theatres, under the arches of bridges in late autumn – all this is possessed of a tenacious permanence, all of it persists and, jealous of all that is, clings to its own frightful reality. People would prefer to be able to forget much of it; sleep files away gently at the grooves in the brain, but dreams drive it away and trace the lines anew. And they wake, panting, and dissolve the gleam of a candle in the dark, and drink in the half-lit solace as if it were sugared water. ~ Rainer Maria Rilke

I love the chill October days, when the brown leaves lie thick and sodden underneath your feet ... the evenings in late autumn time, when the white mist creeps across the fields, making it seem as though old Earth, feeling the night air cold to its poor bones, were drawing ghostly bedclothes round its withered limbs. ~ Jerome K. Jerome

Camped somewhere deep in an impenetrable crag of the immense Powder River Country during the late autumn of 1856, more than likely in the shadow of the sacred Black Hills, one imagines the thirty-five-year-old Red Cloud stepping from his tepee to listen to the bugle of a bull elk in its seasonal rut. Around him women haul water from a crystalline stream as cottonwood smoke rises from scores of cook fires and coils toward a sky the color of brushed aluminum. The wind sighs, and a smile creases his face as he observes a pack of mounted teenagers collect wagers in preparation for the Moccasin Game, or perhaps a rough round of Shinny. His gaze follows the grace and dexterity of one boy in particular, a slender sixteen-year-old with lupine eyes. The boy is Crazy Horse, and the war leader of the Bad Faces makes a mental not to keep tabs on this one. ~ Bob Drury

All the suffering and torment wrought at places of execution, in torture chambers, madhouses, operating theatres, under the arches of bridges in late autumn - all these are stubbornly imperishable, all these persist, are inaccessible but cling on, envious of everything that is, stuck in their own terrible reality. People would like to be allowed to forget much of it, their sleep gliding softly over these furrows in the brain, but dreams come and push sleep aside and fill the picture again. And so they wake up breathless, let the light of a candle dissolve the darkness as they drink the comforting half-light as if it was sugared water. But, alas, the edge on which this security is balancing is a narrow one. Given the slightest little turn and their gaze slips away from the familiar and the friendly, and the contours that had so recently been comforting take the sharp outlines of an abyss of horror. ~ Rainer Maria Rilke

It was like a dream, a beautiful, soothing dream of late autumn: low, gray skies, smell of woodsmoke, fallen leaves crackling beneath my feet, and somewhere out there, in the farmsteads and plantations ahead of me, swift retribution! Freedom! The bloody work of the Lord! ~ Russell Banks

His hairline had receded from the forehead and his sparse remaining hair recalled a frosty meadow in late autumn. ~ Haruki Murakami

One late-autumn day I opened the back door to fetch some water, and there was a young hare sat on my back step. Save for the twitching of its nose, it froze in position as if I had surprised it as it was about to knock. It was already the size of a full-grown rabbit, and its black-tipped ears were longer than any rabbit's would ever be. I stood there and waited for it to flush. After a while I began to doubt that it would, and squatted down to its level for a closer look, eye to eye. It stared at me apparently unconcerned, chewing silently, with bulging eyes that were such a rich golden colour they were almost orange, with black depths like the keyhole of a door to another world. ~ Neil Ansell

He was riding back through a doorway in time to a place that had nothing to do with the airplanes, and motorized vehicle and telephones wires, and radios that surrounded him now ... The woods in late autumn had become his private sun dappled cathedral, one that contained presences antithetical to the conventional notion of a church. ~ James Lee Burke

He felt alone, prey to the tedium, to the dreariness of time, especially at the approach of twilight which, during those late-autumn days, came in through the windows, settling on the furniture with a leaden pallor, sending the mirrors into mourning at light's farewell ... ~ Georges Rodenbach

I have already lived long enough, Manon had written in late autumn, on an autumn day like today. I have lived and loved, I have had the best of this world. Why cry over the ending? Why cling to what remains? The advantage of dying is that you stop being afraid of it. There is a sense of peacefulness too. ~ Nina George

The first breath of autumn was in the air, a prodigal feeling, a feeling of wanting, taking, and keeping before it is too late. ~ J.L. Carr

In the slanting light of late autumn, the gestures and bodies of people are more expressive the less meaning they have. Men stand on street corners staring at the emptiness of the day. They spit on the sidewalk and smoke cigarettes. That's the present ... Time, approaching from afar, is like the air that someone else has already breathed. ~ Andrzej Stasiuk

The November evening had a bite; it nibbled not-quite-gently at her cheeks and ears. In Virginia the late autumn was a lover, still, but a dangerous one. ~ J. Aleksandr Wootton

Why are we a shadow and not a great tree? Why when we think we are spring, reality shows us we are a late autumn? Because of the fact that God is the Unique Accidental one, is the Primary Event, and everything that follows him is an Intended Occurrence, so an image of the Unique Accidental Occurrence. This image is destiny. If we were not but a mere image, this would mean that God is not the Unique Accidental one, but Intended, which cannot be because this would mean that God too is created by another Primary Event before him, thing that cannot be true. But still, do we know what truth is? We wouldn�t be God�s image only if there was not God.
~ Sorin Cerin

So many writers had grown lyrical over spring. And, one must admit, it was easy to love a lamb: but how soon that engaging frivolity would yield to the placid idiocy of its inheritance; it was not easy to love a sheep. Summer? Yes, but it was overweighted, overcolored. No - for herself she preferred late autumn, when line returned, with wider, subtler blends of color and experience. ~ Heron Carvic

In fact, Lig never formally resigned his editorship - he merely left his office late one morning, and has never returned since. Though well over a century has now passed, many members of the Guide staff still retain the romantic notion that he has simply popped out for a sandwich and will yet return to put in a solid afternoon's work.
Strictly speaking, all editors since Lig Lury Jr., have therefore been designated acting editors, and Lig's desk is still preserved the way he left it, with the addition of a small sign that says LIG LURY, JR., EDITOR, MISSING, PRESUMED FED. ~ Douglas Adams

Autumn colors remind us we are all one dancing in the wind. ~ Lorin Morgan-Richards

It's fall coming, I thought, I can smell that sour-molasses smell of silage, clanging the air like a bell – smell like somebody's been burning oak leaves, left them to smolder overnight because they're too green. ~ Ken Kesey

I think people are as individual as snowflakes, they kinda look alike but no two are the exactly the same, and all classification is the root of prejudice. ~ Craig Ferguson

The internet had yet to take off, partly because its commercial use was restricted until late 1992 and partly due to the lack of user-friendly web browsers. ~ Peter Thiel

we want to seize the value and perspective of passing things, and so to pull ourselves up out of the maelstrom of daily circumstance. We want to know that the little things are little, and the big things big, before it is too late; we want to see things now as they will seem forever-"in the light of eternity." We want to learn to laugh in the face of the inevitable, to smile even at the looming of death. We want to be whole, to coordinate our energies by criticizing and harmonizing our desires; for coordinated energy: is the last word in ethics and politics, and perhaps in logic and metaphysics too. ~ Will Durant

Sometime during eternity
some guys show up
and one of them
who shows up real late
is a kind of carpenter
from some square-type place
like Galilee
and he starts wailing
and claiming he is hep
to who made heaven
and earth
and that the cat
who really laid it on us
is his Dad ~ Lawrence Ferlinghetti

As the late earl said, 'The early bird catches birds of a like feather,'" she said.
I nodded, not even trying to understand how that would work. At the very least, the combination of proverbs made it somewhat original. ~ Tarun Shanker

The best=laid plans, one's most fastidious contingency strategies have revealed themselves in the cold light of day to be laughably inadequate, no match for the happenstance that seems of late only to promise death, mayhem, poverty, flood. And here you are, having spent all that time protecting your home from the oncoming elements only to find that it has been shored up with crackers. ~ David Rakoff

It's never too late, not while you've got breath in your lungs and life within you. ~ Eoin Dempsey

There is an immeasurable distance between late and too late. ~ Og Mandino

The walls were coming down around me, but still, I couldn't imagine telling the truth. Not now. It was too late. How can I tell Mom and Dad what we'd done? It would ruin everything. It would ruin their image of me; it would ruin every thought they'd ever had about who I was. It would be another death.Another loss. Another miscarriage. ~ Dana Reinhardt

It is I, and I stand with the girl, the Elemental and the partner of the skeleton detective, and although she is late she is here, which is the important thing, and we are moving on. ~ Derek Landy

In the evening we shall be examined on love." –St. John of the Cross

And it won't be multiple choice,
though some of us would prefer it that way.
Neither will it be essay, which tempts us to run on
when we should be sticking to the point, if not together.
In the evening there shall be implications
our fear will change to complications. No cheating,
we'll be told, and we'll try to figure out the cost of being true
to ourselves. In the evening when the sky has turned
that certain blue, blue of exam books, blue of no more
daily evasions, we shall climb the hill as the light empties
and park our tired bodies on a bench above the city
and try to fill in the blanks. And we won't be tested
like defendants on trial, cross-examined
till one of us breaks down, guilty as charged. No,
in the evening, after the day has refused to testify,
we shall be examined on love like students
who don't even recall signing up for the course
and now must take their orals, forced to speak for once
from the heart and not off the top of their heads.
And when the evening is over and it's late,
the student body asleep, even the great teachers
retired for the night, we shall stay up
and run back over the questions, each in our own way:
what's true, what's false, what unknown quantity
will balance the equation, what it would mean years from now
to look back and know
we d ~ Thomas Centolella

Letter 90


When I used to sit up late at night writing in our bed, I was calmed by the sound of your breathing. I would hold my breath and watch your chest rise and fall. I felt like a blind man soothed by the scents and sounds of a garden.

As I lie here in bed writing this letter, there is only the sound of my own breathing.

When I hold my breath, there is only silence.

Tonight I feel like a miner being lowered farther and farther into a dark mine shaft, longing for the scents and the sounds of a garden. ~ Gregory Colbert

Stand on the highest pavement of the stair -
Lean on a garden urn -
Weave, weave the sunlight in your hair -
Clasp your flowers to you with a pained surprise -
Fling them to the ground and turn
With a fugitive resentment in your eyes:
But weave, weave the sunlight in your hair.

So I would have had him leave,
So I would have had her stand and grieve,
So he would have left
As the soul leaves the body torn and bruised,
As the mind deserts the body it has used.
I should find
Some way incomparably light and deft,
Some way we both should understand,
Simple and faithless as a smile and shake of the hand.

She turned away, but with the autumn weather
Compelled my imagination many days,
Many days and many hours:
Her hair over her arms and her arms full of flowers.
And I wonder how they should have been together!
I should have lost a gesture and a pose.
Sometimes these cogitations still amaze
The troubled midnight and the noon's repose. ~ T.S. Eliot

We're not uncomfortable with it, and we've already been through enough of the music business where I'm not really worried that commercial success is going to in some way - we're already past saving, you know what I mean? It's too late for us. ~ Jerry Garcia

Sorry is not meant that you are wrong but is meant that you value the relationship."But in my dictionary "Sorry is too late", I rarely use this word! ~ Chum Visal

Women were far more fragile, and if there was one thing Michael could not bear, it was a woman's tears. Seeing the telltale rim of moisture pooling at the bottom of a woman's eyes was all it took to make him helpless. When a woman's voice wobbled with impending tears, all his extravagant strength and courage collapsed like a withered leaf in a gust of autumn wind. ~ Elizabeth Camden

I don't think in the religious way that most people associate that word with, but Hern is a committed guy. He's doing the hardest job with the late-term thing. I don't think that's easy on a person, especially under the kind of terrorism that doctors of his kind have seen over the past twenty years. He's a tough guy. ~ John H Richardson

I would learn fifteen years too late that asking for consent, granting consent, surviving sexual violence, being called a good dude, and never initiating sexual relationships did not incubate me from being emotionally abusive. Consent meant little to nothing if it was not fully informed. What, and to whom, were my partners consenting if I spent our entire relationship convincing them that a circle was not a circle but just a really relaxed square? I'd become good at losing weight and great at convincing women they didn't see or know what they absolutely saw and knew. Lying there on that floor, I accepted that I'd actually never been honest with myself about what carrying decades of lies did to other people's hearts and heads. ~ Kiese Laymon

You can't focus on what you should or shouldn't write or who you should or shouldn't be like. Just write for yourself and eventually you'll get to that place you want to be. ~ Autumn Doughton

Kind of like people. We're too lazy to change, so we'll just keep doing what we're doing until it's too late. ~ Wendy Wunder

I love to watch those old movies on late-night television, particularly when a couple get up from a champagne dinner in a posh restaurant and the hero hands the waiter $3. But the best part is when he says, "Keep the change." ~ Robert Orben

We have of late come to understand that sunrise and sunset are to her times of peculiar freedom. When her old self can be manifest without any controlling force subduing or restraining her, or inciting her to action. This mood or condition begins some half hour or more before actual sunrise or sunset, and lasts till either the sun is high, or whilst the clouds are still aglow with the rays streaming above the horizon. At first there is a sort of negative condition, as if some tie were loosened, and then the absolute freedom quickly follows. When, however, the freedom ceases the change back or relapse comes quickly, preceded only by a spell of warning silence. ~ Bram Stoker

I felt that it was getting very late indeed, but I did not say anything, for I felt under obligation to meet my host's wishes in ever way. ~ Bram Stoker

There are no whys to this, There are no becauses....
It just is this way. You upset me, you made me angry, you made me laugh, you made me love you. You sparked my emotions.
What more is there between two people?
Please Don't worry about right or wrong. Let's just see what the autumn brings. ~ Lisa Kusel

Ren's scent was everywhere. The smoke of aged wood lingering beneath a chilled autumn sky, the smooth burn of well-worn leather, the seductive ribbon of sandalwood. I closed my eyes, letting his scent pour over me, filling me with memories. ~ Andrea Cremer

I succumbed. Late-fifteenth-century verb, Old French succomber or Latin succumbere, but a basic necessity of the human condition, especially mine. ~ David Mitchell

Right now religion has the romantic aura of the forbidden - Christ is cool. We need to bring it into the schools, which kids already hate, and associate it firmly with boredom, regulation, condescension, makework and de facto segregation ... Prayer in the schools will rid us of the bland no-offense ecumenism that is so infuriating to us anticlericals: Oh, so now you say Jews didn't kill Christ - a little on the late side, isn't it? ~ Katha Pollitt

When I'm late it matters, but when everybody else is late it doesn't matter ... If that's the rule then just write it down and then I know, you know ... I'll read it and I'll write it down on my balls. Right here. Right here on the back of my balls is where I'll write it. On the very back. I'll just lift them and write it nicely. ~ Brian Posehn

Autumn lingered on as if fond of its own perfection. ~ Winston Graham

I've been an activist since my late teens. I take this very seriously and try to use the gift that's been given to me - access to the media - as positively as I can. ~ George Takei