Autumn, Eric Sloane

A few days ago I walked along the edge of the lake and was treated to the crunch and rustle of leaves with each step I made. The acoustics of this season are different and all sounds, no matter how hushed, are as crisp as autumn air.

- Eric Sloane (1905-1985)

Universe, Jorge Luis Borges

It is clear that there is no classification of the Universe that is not arbitrary and full of conjectures. The reason for this is very simple: we do not know what kind of thing the universe is.

- Jorge Luis Borges (1899-1986), in "The Analytical Language of John Wilkins" in Other Inquisitions (1952), as translated by Will Fitzgerald

October, Thomas Bailey Aldrich

October turned my maple's leaves to gold;
The most are gone now; here and there one lingers.
Soon these will slip from out the twig's weak hold,
Like coins between a dying miser's fingers.

- Thomas Bailey Aldrich (1836-1907), October