To know after absence the familiar street and road and village and house is to know again the satisfaction of home.

Two sounds of autumn are unmistakable...the hurrying rustle of crisp leaves blown along the street...by a gusty wind, and the gabble of a flock of migrating geese.

Of all the seasons, autumn offers the most to man and requires the least of him.

October is the fallen leaf, but it is also a wider horizon more clearly seen. It is the distant hills once more in sight, and the enduring constellations above them once again.

There is a leisure about walking, no matter what pace you set, that lets down the tension.

Each new season grows from the leftovers from the past. That is the essence of change, and change is the basic law.

No winter lasts forever; no spring skips its turn.