Carl Sandburg Quotes

Fall has always been my favorite season. The time when everything bursts with its last beauty, as if nature had been saving up all year for the grand finale.

Summer ends now; now, barbarous in beauty, the Stooks arise Around; up above, what wind-walks! what lovely behavior Of silk-sack clouds! Has wilder, willful-waiver Meal-drift molded ever and melted across skies?

I love the fall. I love it because of the smells that you speak of; and also because things are dying, things that you don't have to take care of anymore, and the grass stops growing.

There is a time in the last few days of summer when the ripeness of autumn fills the air.

I know the lands are lit, with all the autumn blaze of Goldenrod.

While you can find zucchini in markets in most places year-round, allowing you to make everything from breakfast dishes like zucchini and onion frittatas to snacks like zucchini-stuffed crab cakes, the onset of fall marks the beginning of hard squash season.

Behold congenial Autumn comes, the Sabbath of the Year.

The melancholy days are come, the saddest of the year, Of wailing winds, and naked woods and meadows brown and sear.

But you can't plead with autumn. No. The midnight wind stalked through the woods, hooted to frighten you, swept everything away for the approaching winter, whirled the leaves. ("The North")

Autumn that year painted the countryside in vivid shades of scarlet, saffron and russet, and the days were clear and crisp under harvest skies.

The lands are lit with all the autumn blaze of golden-rod, and everywhere the purple asters nod and bend and wave and flit.

Delicious autumn! My very soul is wedded to it.

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

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun.

Autumn carries more gold in its pocket than all the other seasons.

All still when summer is over stand shocks in the field, nothing left to whisper, not even good-bye, to the wind. After summer was over we knew winter would come: we knew silence would wait, tall, patient calm.

When I speak My lips feel cold - The autumn wind.

The mountains paralleled the valley and the snowy peaks were extending with fall to the valley floor.

Yellow, mellow, ripened days, Sheltered in a golden coating; O'er the dreamy, listless haze, White and dainty cloudlets floating; Winking at the blushing trees, And the sombre, furrowed fallow; Smiling at the airy ease, Of the southward flying swallow Sweet and smiling are thy ways, Beauteous, golden Autumn days.

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.

Way out in the country tonight he could smell the pumpkins ripening toward the knife and the triangle eye and the singeing candle.

Autumn is a season followed immediately by looking forward to spring.

I'm so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers.

Swinging on delicate hinges the autumn leaf almost off the stem.