Summer ends, and Autumn comes, and he who would have it otherwise would have high tide always and a full moon every night.

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.

Time after time ... today's crisis shrinks to next week's footnote to a newly headline disaster.

In a painful time of my life I went often to a wooded hillside where May apples grew by the hundreds, and I thought the sourness of their fruit had a symbolism for me. Instead, I was to find both love and happiness soon thereafter. So to me [the May apple] is the mandrake, the love symbol, of the old dealers in plant restoratives.

No Winter lasts forever, no Spring skips its turn. April is a promise that May is bound to keep, and we know it.

Summer ends, and Autumn comes, and he who would have it otherwise would have high tide always and a full moon every night.

All our yesterdays are summarized in our now, and all the tomorrows are ours to shape.