Anyone who thinks fallen leaves are dead has never watched them dancing on a windy day.

I had a dream about you. The leaves changed from yellow to red, but the stoplights did not. This made me continually cautious, and you kept honking at me. I thought you were the rudest...

At the edge you will always remember me, at the edge you will last be remembered, where sanity and insanity come together, for the time, then separates. Like leaves on October trees, that color the...

He’d grown unused to woods like this. He’d become accustomed to the Northwest, evergreen and shaded dark. Here he was surrounded by soft leaves, not needles; leaves that carried their deaths secretly inside them, that...

What if leaves changed shape as well as color? You can teach a man to fish, or you can introduce him to a woman named Fish who happens to look like a trout.

For the time beingWords scatterAre they fallen leaves?

Fall, leaves, fall; die, flowers, away;Lengthen night and shorten day;Every leaf speaks bliss to meFluttering from the autumn tree.I shall smile when wreaths of snowBlossom where the rose should grow;I shall sing when night’s decayUshers...

In every change, in every falling leaf there is some pain, some beauty. And that’s the way new leaves grow.

A gust of wind rattles the window, and I look out. Leaves are whooshing all over the place, flying past horizontally as if they have engines of their own.

You become a hypocrite when you can’t freely be at peace with others, but you can carry green palm leaves to church to commemorate “palm Sunday”! Throw those palm leaves somewhere; and lay your life...

The leaves that remain are only a very small part of the tea. The tea that goes into me is a much bigger part of the tea. It is the richest part.We are the same;...

Religion leaves no room for human complexity.

Trees lose their leaves in blizzards like these.

Let all the green leaves be mineas long as the trees define shades created by their limbsfor the soil made with victimsof atrocity’s vileness to redeem the fragileness

Thoughts are roots; Words are leaves; Actions are fruits! Every success tree has all working normally!

Autumn is a season of desperate hopes. The leaves are souls begging to turn life on pause. Begging to stop, begging to take a break, hiding under smiles and childish words.

I guess I’m just feeling Septemberish,” sighed Chester. “It’s getting towards autumn now. And it’s so pretty up in Connecticut. All the trees change color. The days get very clear―with a little smoke on the...

To hear never-heard sounds, To see never-seen colors and shapes, To try to understand the imperceptible Power pervading the world; To fly and find pure ethereal substances That are not of matter But of that...

Do you know why the leaves change colour, Makin?” They did look spectacular. The forest had grown around us as we traveled and the canopy burned with colour, from deepest red to flame orange, an...

It is important to view knowledge as sort of a semantic tree — make sure you understand the fundamental principles, ie the trunk and big branches, before you get into the leaves/details or there is...

People do that too. Their hair changes color as they age.” I remember that as my grandpa got older, his hair went from green to yellow to red, like a traffic light, only with slightly...

Writings scatter to the winds blank checks in an insane charge. And were they not such flying leaves, there would be no purloined letters.

The most compelling narrative, expressed in sentences with which I have no chemical reaction, or an adverse one, leaves me cold.

It’s December in Florida, and there are still a few leaves clinging on the branches for dear summer.

Autumn flings her fiery cloak over the sumac, beech and oak.

If words were leaves, would you prefer fall or spring?

It is glorious fun racing down the Hump, but you can’t do it on windy days because then you are not there, but the fallen leaves do it instead of you. There is almost nothing...

I am happy the leaves are growing large so quickly. Soon they will hide the neighbor and her screaming child.

If trees had feathers instead of leaves, then they wouldn’t fly, they wouldn’t run, and they’d be my favorite thing to hunt.

RELUCTANCEOut through the fields and the woods And over the walls I have wended;I have climbed the hills of view And looked at the world, and descended;I have come by the highway home, And lo,...

…I’m just beginning to understand how kind you are.

Half man, half tree, I have patience—and leaves. Forest fires make me sweat. Let’s go for a walk. You’ll have to push me in a wheelbarrow.

I thought about how the past can become so small. An entire day, 24 separate, heavy hours, becomes the size of a tiny brown leaf falling from a tree. Before you know it, a whole...

Never climb the tree with the reason of plucking a fruit; only to get there and pick a leaf. Let everything you get there to do be done and let it be done well!

I was drinking in the surroundings: air so crisp you could snap it with your fingers and greens in every lush shade imaginable offset by autumnal flashes of red and yellow.

Are ye the ghosts of fallen leaves, O flakes of snow, For which, through naked trees, the winds A-mourning go?

I love like a leaf in the wind. Please, hold your applause until the end of the performance (the last day of fall).

Wind is the sacred music of the leaves; wherever and whenever the wind blows, over there leaves start their holy dancing frantically!

Only a friend or a giraffe would stick his neck out for you. But only a giraffe would eat all the leaves off your tree so he could peek in your second story bedroom window.

He who leaves nothing to chance will do few things poorly, but he will do few things.

If green carpet grew on trees instead of leaves, I’d pick off a few cats—with my rifle.

The Sussex lanes were very lovely in the autumn . . . spendthrift gold and glory of the year-end . . . earth scents and the sky winds and all the magic of the countryside...

A tree has leaves like man has hair. Some men go winter in the summer, and other men, like me, like skiing on skin.

There’s never been a better time to let the leaves of mediocrity fall from your tree of life.

I want to say something so embarrassing about September that even the leaves start blushing and turning red.

He can fight terrorists overseas, but he leaves our borders so they can come in here and do their thing.

Still, you are distinguished from the night–your voice silent as candles melted in their own pools, used up with expression and light….

With its leaves so rich and heavy with elation and its crimson face made brighter with visions of divinity the shadow of a certain rose looks just like an angel eating light.

Thank you leaf blowers, for making me look like the world’s lamest Ghostbuster. I ain’t afraid of no leaves.

Every tree in the forest has a story to tell. Some of them were burnt but they endured the fire and got revived; some of them were cut, their barks injured, some people pick up...