October Quotes

“I'm so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers.”
― L. M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables

“October, baptize me with leaves! Swaddle me in corduroy and nurse me with split pea soup. October, tuck tiny candy bars in my pockets and carve my smile into a thousand pumpkins. O autumn! O teakettle! O grace!”
― Rainbow Rowell, Attachments

“The wind outside nested in each tree, prowled the sidewalks in invisible treads like unseen cats.
Tom Skelton shivered. Anyone could see that the wind was a special wind this night, and the darkness took on a special feel because it was All Hallows' Eve. Everything seemed cut from soft black velvet or gold or orange velvet. Smoke panted up out of a thousand chimneys like the plumes of funeral parades. From kitchen windows drifted two pumpkin smells: gourds being cut, pies being baked.”
― Ray Bradbury, The Halloween Tree

“First of all, it was October, a rare month for boys.”
― Ray Bradbury, Something Wicked This Way Comes

“AUTUMNAL

Pale amber sunlight falls across
The reddening October trees,
That hardly sway before a breeze
As soft as summer: summer's loss
Seems little, dear! on days like these.

Let misty autumn be our part!
The twilight of the year is sweet:
Where shadow and the darkness meet
Our love, a twilight of the heart
Eludes a little time's deceit.

Are we not better and at home
In dreamful Autumn, we who deem
No harvest joy is worth a dream?
A little while and night shall come,
A little while, then, let us dream.

Beyond the pearled horizons lie
Winter and night: awaiting these
We garner this poor hour of ease,
Until love turn from us and die
Beneath the drear November trees.”
― Ernest Dowson, The Poems And Prose Of Ernest Dowson

“There is something in October sets the gypsy blood astir: We must rise and follow her, When from every hill of flame She calls, and calls each vagabond by name.”
― William Bliss

“Chicago is an October sort of city even in spring.”
― Nelson Algren, Chicago: City on the Make

“Anne reveled in the world of color about her.

"Oh, Marilla," she exclaimed one Saturday morning, coming dancing in with her arms full of gorgeous boughs, "I'm so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers. It would be terrible if we just skipped from September to November, wouldn't it? Look at these maple branches. Don't they give you a thrill--several thrills?”
― L.M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables

“I remember it as October days are always remembered, cloudless, maple-flavored, the air gold and so clean it quivers.”
― Leif Enger, Peace Like a River

“He had never liked October. Ever since he had first lay in the autumn leaves before his grandmother's house many years ago and heard the wind and saw the empty trees. It had made him cry, without a reason. And a little of that sadness returned each year to him. It always went away with spring.

But, it was a little different tonight. There was a feeling of autumn coming to last a million years.

There would be no spring. ( "The October Game" )”
― Ray Bradbury, Long After Midnight

“October proved a riot a riot to the senses and climaxed those giddy last weeks before Halloween.”
― Keith Donohue

“October had tremendous possibility. The summer's oppressive heat was a distant memory, and the golden leaves promised a world full of beautiful adventures. They made me believe in miracles.”
― Sarah Guillory, Reclaimed

“It takes a strong man to be with a woman full of fire and stars and all of October.”
― Melody Lee

“October knew, of course, that the action of turning a page, of ending a chapter or shutting a book, did not end the tale.
Having admitted that, he would also avow that happy endings were never difficult to find: "It is simply a matter," he explained to April, "of finding a sunny place in a garden, where the light is golden and the grass is soft; somewhere to rest, to stop reading, and to be content.”
― Neil Gaiman, The Sandman, Vol. 4: Season of Mists

“October

O love, turn from the changing sea and gaze,
Down these grey slopes, upon the year grown old,
A-dying 'mid the autumn-scented haze
That hangeth o'er the hollow in the wold,
Where the wind-bitten ancient elms infold
Grey church, long barn, orchard, and red-roofed stead,
Wrought in dead days for men a long while dead.

Come down, O love; may not our hands still meet,
Since still we live today, forgetting June,
Forgetting May, deeming October sweet? -
- Oh, hearken! hearken! through the afternoon
The grey tower sings a strange old tinkling tune!
Sweet, sweet, and sad, the toiling year's last breath,
To satiate of life, to strive with death.

And we too -will it not be soft and kind,
That rest from life, from patience, and from pain,
That rest from bliss we know not when we find,
That rest from love which ne'er the end can gain?
- Hark! how the tune swells, that erewhile did wane!
Look up, love! -Ah! cling close, and never move!
How can I have enough of life and love?”
― William Morris

“The last dying days of summer, fall coming on fast. A cold night, the first of the season, a change from the usual bland Maryland climate. Cold, thought the boy; his mind felt numb. The trees he could see through his bedroom window were tall charcoal sticks, shivering, afraid of the wind or only trying to stand against it. Every tree was alone out there. The animals were alone, each in its hole, in its thin fur, and anything that got hit on the road tonight would die alone. Before morning, he thought, its blood would freeze in the cracks of the asphalt.”
― Poppy Z. Brite

“Nobody moved.

Everybody sat in the dark cellar, suspended in the suddenly frozen task of this October game; the wind blew outside, banging the house, the smell of pumpkins and apples filled the room with smell of the objects in their fingers while one boy cried, “I'll go upstairs and look!” and he ran upstairs hopefully and out around the house, four times around the house, calling, “Marion, Marion, Marion!” over and over and at last coming slowly down the stairs into the waiting breathing cellar and saying to the darkness, “I can't find her.”

Then... some idiot turned on the lights.
( "The October Game" )”
― Ray Bradbury, Long After Midnight

“Ah, Lovely October, as you usher in the season that awakens my soul, your awesome beauty compels my spirit to soar like an leaf caught in an autumn breeze and my heart to sing like a heavenly choir.”
― Peggy Toney Horton

“It must be October, the trees are falling away and showing their true colors.”
― Charmaine J Forde

“She raised a sharp eyebrow at him." Vlad, no offense, but look at you. If you're not a vampire, you're clearly the most anemic goth I've ever seen. "..." We believed you. Because that's what friends do. "
pg267 October to Vlad”
― Heather Brewer, Twelfth Grade Kills

“FALLING IN LOVE WITH OCTOBER

Leaves descending to the ground,
Orange, magenta, green & brown
The cool crisp breezes in the air,
Autumn season must be here”
― Charmaine J Forde

“October, crisp, misty, golden October, when the light is sweet and heavy.”
― Angela Carter, The Magic Toyshop

“This tree must be falling for me, as soon as I sat under it, it dropped its leaves.
Oh sweet October!”
― Charmaine J Forde

“AUTUMN NIGHTS

A crispy, cozy night on my wooden porch,
Rustling leaves under my feet,
Pinecones and pumpkin lights everywhere,
A soft wool blanket in my chair,
The smell of warm apple spiced candles,
What a delight!
I'm really falling for this October night.”
― Charmaine J Forde

“FALLING FOR AUTUMN

That time of the year,
When September welcomes October,
They fall for each other,
And then they show their true colors.”
― Charmaine J. Forde

“She fastened her attention on the taxi window as they drove crosstown. It was one of those last wonderful days in October, when the air is balmy and the faded sun tries to pretend it's spring.”
― Jacqueline Susann, Valley of the Dolls

“I wish that October had more Saturdays.”
― Charmaine J. Forde

“October mornings peeled the night cloud back to its subcutaneous lilac tissue.
The leaves earned their name by leaving the trees. Browned and blistered foliage cascaded from the sycamore, swilling into the exterior nooks of the house, ruffling the gravel, snagging on the tortured remains of the thistle, bottlenecking and compacting in the corner where the wheelie bin was kept, so that when it was taken off for collection, its absence created a rectangular hollow the shape of a short, stocky pillar that held its shape for several seconds before crumbling.”
― Sara Baume, Seven Steeples

“It's October, and the shorter days have made us hungrier, depriving us of light and forcing us to look for it in other people.”
― Billy-Ray Belcourt, Coexistence: Stories

“Be careful what you wish for, especially during the season of the dead.”
― Byrd Nash, Delicious Death