Autumn to winter, winter into spring,
Spring into summer, summer into fall,--
So rolls the changing year, read more

Autumn to winter, winter into spring,
Spring into summer, summer into fall,--
So rolls the changing year, and so we change;
Motion so swift, we know not that we move.

To be interested in the changing seasons is a happier state of mind than to be hopelessly in love with read more

To be interested in the changing seasons is a happier state of mind than to be hopelessly in love with spring.

Spring passes and one remembers one's innocence. Summer passes and one remembers one's exuberance. Autumn passes and one remembers one's read more

Spring passes and one remembers one's innocence. Summer passes and one remembers one's exuberance. Autumn passes and one remembers one's reverence. Winter passes and one remembers one's perseverance.

A woodland in full color is awesome as a forest fire; but a single tree is like a dancing tongue read more

A woodland in full color is awesome as a forest fire; but a single tree is like a dancing tongue of flame to warm the heart.

Change is a measure of time and, in the autumn, time seems speeded up. What was is not and never read more

Change is a measure of time and, in the autumn, time seems speeded up. What was is not and never again will be; what is is change.

And you would accept the seasons of your heart just as you have always accepted that seasons pass over your read more

And you would accept the seasons of your heart just as you have always accepted that seasons pass over your fields and you would watch with serenity through the winters of your grief.

January grey is here,
Like a sexton by her grave;
February bears the bier,
read more

January grey is here,
Like a sexton by her grave;
February bears the bier,
March with grief doth howl and rave,
And April weeps--but, O ye hours!
Follow with May's fairest flowers.

A perfect summer day is when the sun is shining, the breeze is blowing, the birds are singing, and the read more

A perfect summer day is when the sun is shining, the breeze is blowing, the birds are singing, and the lawn mower is broken.

Winter is an etching, spring a watercolor, summer an oil painting and autumn a mosaic of them all.

Winter is an etching, spring a watercolor, summer an oil painting and autumn a mosaic of them all.