Foliage Quotes

“If we hadn’t our bewitching autumn foliage, we should still have to credit the weather with one feature which compensates for all its bullying vagaries-the ice storm: when a leafless tree is clothed with ice from the bottom to the top – ice that is as bright and clear as crystal; when every bough and twig is strung with ice-beads, frozen dew-drops, and the whole tree sparkles cold and white, like the Shah of Persia’s diamond plume. Then the wind waves the branches and the sun comes out and turns all those myriads of beads and drops to prisms that glow and burn and flash with all manner of colored fires, which change and change again with inconceivable rapidity from blue to red, from red to green, and green to gold-the tree becomes a spraying fountain, a very explosion of dazzling jewels; and it stands there the acme, the climax, the supremest possibility in art or nature, of bewildering, intoxicating, intolerable magnificence. One cannot make the words too strong.”

“We should wait six-seven months. Maybe, upon spring's arrival, our love would blossom. As of now, dry-lifeless-forlorn, it resembles the fall foliage. Beautiful, nonetheless!#BeyondAutumn”

“The faithless are surprised, that the faithful put no faith in them; the infidels are astounded that the wise do not put trust in them. After all we don't entrust cement to grow abundant foliage.”

“Facts are the barren branches on which we hang the dear, obscuring foliage of our dreams.”

“You, in bloom, heart, beloved,you are like the foliage of the sky over my eyesand I look at you lying on the earth”

“I knew, of course, that trees and plants had roots, stems, bark, branches and foliage that reached up toward the light. But I was coming to realize that the real magician was light itself.”

“Toulouse Street ran one way toward the Mississippi River. Jackson looked over [Imogene's] head into one of those famous New Orleans courtyards, full of lush foliage, mossy brick, secrets, and wonder.”

“Gimmerton chapel bells were still ringing and the full, mellow flow of the beck in the valley came soothingly on the ear. It was a sweet substitute for the yet absent murmur of the summer foliage, which drowned that music about the Grange when the trees were in leaf.”

“Lucille,” Norma Jean whispered loud enough for me to hear from my foliage hideout. She leaned over her walker and adjusted her glasses. “Is that Willis Harvey up front by Elsa?”“Well, pinch my pooch, I believe it is,” Lucille said. “I barely recognize him with his clothes on.”

“A grimy ghost hovered above a smiling scarecrow that looked puny next to an oversized bat being watched by a wicked witch who was entangled in the web of an even larger spider that was in danger of being eaten by a bug-eyed owl that peeped out of the faux foliage, much more nostalgic than scary.”