Around and around the house the leaves fall thick—but never fast, for they come circling down with a dead lightness that is sombre and slow. Let the gardener sweep and sweep the turf as he will, and press the leaves into full barrows, and wheel them off, still they lie ankle-deep. – Charles Dickens, Bleak House

The bright summer had passed away, and gorgeous autumn was flinging its rainbow-tints of beauty on hill and dale. – Cornelia L. Tuthill, “Virginia Dare: Or, the Colony of Roanoke,” 1840

Just as a painter needs light in order to put the finishing touches to his picture, so I need an inner light, which I feel I never have enough of in the autumn. – Leo Tolstoy, to Nikolay Strakhov