Many people love September because of the first chilly nights of fall even though the days are still long and warm. Whatever your reason is for loving the month of September, you’ll definitely adore these September quotes we have compiled for you.
September Quotes
1. But when fall comes, kicking summer out on its treacherous ass as it always does one day sometime after the midpoint of September, it stays a while like an old friend that you have missed. It settles in the way an old friend will settle into your favorite chair and take out his pipe and light it and then fill the afternoon with stories of places he has been and things he has done since last he saw you. – Stephen King
2. That old September feeling, left over from school days, of summer passing, vacation nearly done, obligations gathering, books and football in the air. Another fall, another turned page: there was something of jubilee in that annual autumnal beginning, as if last year’s mistakes had been wiped clean by summer. – Wallace Stegner
3. We can’t possibly have a summer love. So many people have tried that the name’s become proverbial. Summer is only the unfulfilled promise of spring, a charlatan in place of the warm balmy nights I dream of in April. It’s a sad season of life without growth. It has no day. – F. Scott Fitzgerald
4. Ah, September. You are the doorway to the season that awakens my soul but I must confess that I love you only because you are a prelude to my beloved October. – Peggy Toney Horton
5. In his or her own way, everyone I saw before me looked happy. Whether they were really happy or just looked it, I couldn’t tell. But they did look happy on this pleasant early afternoon in late September, and because of that I felt a kind of loneliness new to me, as if I were the only one here who was not truly part of the scene. – Haruki Murakami
6. I heard a bird sing in the dark of December. A magical thing. And sweet to remember. We are nearer to Spring than we were in September. I heard a bird sing in the dark of December. – Oliver Herford
7. The first flash of color always excites me as much as the first frail, courageous bloom of spring. This is, in a sense, my season sometimes warm and, when the wind blows an alert, sometimes cold. But there is a clarity about September. On clear days, the sun seems brighter, the sky more blue, the white clouds take on marvelous shapes; the moon is a wonderful apparition, rising gold, cooling to silver; and the stars are so big. The September storms–the hurricane warnings far away, the sudden gales, the downpour of rain that we have so badly needed here for so long–are exhilarating, and there’s a promise that what September starts, October will carry on, catching the torch flung into her hand. – Faith Baldwin
8. Outside the leaves on the trees constricted slightly; they were the deep done green of the beginning of autumn. It was a Sunday in September. There would only be four. The clouds were high and the swallows would be here for another month or so before they left for the south before they returned again next summer. – Ali Smith
9. We know that in September, we will wander through the warm winds of summer’s wreckage. We will welcome summer’s ghost. – Heny Rollins
10. For all I can really do is stand here in September’s rain. Savoring, soaking it all in, slipping, and simply holding on to poetry for dear life. – Sanober Khan
11. The last dying days of summer, fall coming on fast. A cold night, the first of the season, a change from the usual bland Maryland climate. Cold, thought the boy; his mind felt numb. The trees he could see through his bedroom window were tall charcoal sticks, shivering, afraid of the wind or only trying to stand against it. Every tree was alone out there. The animals were alone, each in its hole, in its thin fur, and anything that got hit on the road tonight would die alone. Before morning, he thought, its blood would freeze in the cracks of the asphalt. – Poppy Z. Brite
12. Summer has no day,’ she said. ‘We can’t possibly have a summer love. So many people have tried that the name’s become proverbial. Summer is only the unfulfilled promise of spring, a charlatan in place of the warm balmy nights I dream of in April. It’s a sad season of life without growth…it has no day. – F. Scott Fitzgerald
13. Sweet as cherries, bright as berries, light of my moony sky. – Catherynne M. Valente
14. The old summer’s-end melancholy nips at my heels. There’s no school to go back to no detail of my life will change come the onset of September yet still, I feel the old trepidation. – Sara Baume
15. September was a thirty-days long goodbye to summer, to the season that left everybody both happy and weary of the warm, humid weather and the exhausting but thrilling adventures. It didn’t feel like fresh air either, it made me suffocate. It was like the days would be dragging some kind of sickness, one that we knew wouldn’t last, but made us uncomfortable anyway. The atmosphere felt dusty and stifling. – Lea Malot
16. Tonight I miss you like the sky misses his moon; a delicate epiphany growing on grass. I serenade the breeze into dancing a cha cha cha; the mountains echo in the background. September sky never looked more charming; or the sublime petals of the rose looked so graceful. – Avijeet Das
17. Responsibility sucked rocks. Until a few months ago, I hadn’t been responsible for anything more than color-coordinating my wardrobe. But foil one vampire vixen bent on world domination and suddenly people expect all kinds of things. Some days it just didn’t pay to wake up dead. – Lucienne Diver
18. Why should I care about you first kiss,’ he said. ‘You can kiss anyone you like. But sometimes if you wanted to kiss me, that would be all right, too. – Catherynne M. Valente
19. I used to love September, but now it just rhymes with remember. – Dominic Riccitello
20. You get the face you build your whole life, with work and loving and grieving and laughing and frowning. – Catherynne M. Valente
21. No matter how many losing seasons you might have had in the past with your marriage, the good thing is that all teams get a fresh start once September begins. – Shon Hyneman
22. High up on Monte Salvatore the window of some shepherd’s hut opened a golden eye. The roses hung their heads and dreamed under the still September clouds, and the water plashed and murmured softly among the pebbles of the shore. – E.L. Voynich
23. Remember to be your brother’s keeper in September. – Ernest Agyemang Yeboah
24. It strikes me that the spirit of the Fourth, this year, was used up by September’s end and fell like an early leaf. – William H. Gass
25. The seasonal urge is strong in poets. Milton wrote chiefly in winter. Keats looked for spring to wake him up (as it did in the miraculous months of April and May, 1819). Burns chose autumn. Longfellow liked the month of September. Shelley flourished in the hot months. Some poets, like Wordsworth, have gone outdoors to work. Others, like Auden, keep to the curtained room. Schiller needed the smell of rotten apples about him to make a poem. Tennyson and Walter de la Mare had to smoke. Auden drinks lots of tea, Spender coffee; Hart Crane drank alcohol. Pope, Byron, and William Morris were creative late at night. And so it goes. – Helen Bevington
26. Although September 11 was horrible, it didn’t threaten the survival of the human race, like nuclear weapons do. – Stephen Hawking
27. But through world wars and a Great Depression, through painful social upheaval and a Cold War, and now through the attacks of September 11, 2001, our Nation has indeed survived. – Nick Rahall
28. There are terrible, terrible memories of September 11th, things that I saw, people that I lost, the devastation, the identification of bodies. I mean, all these memories come back to you at different times. And then the other side of it this tremendous response with the firefighters and the police officers saving people, the rescue workers. – Rudy Giuliani
29. I think the heartbreak of September 11 – America’s grief not only over the loss of life but also the loss of our own innocence – has expanded us as people because it has tenderized our hearts. On a psychological level, the American people have matured as a result of that awful day. – Marianne Williamson
30. In many ways, September feels like the busiest time of the year: The kids go back to school, work piles up after the summer’s dog days, and Thanksgiving is suddenly upon us. – Brene Brown
31. We know that in September, we will wander through the warm winds of summer’s wreckage. We will welcome summer’s ghost. – Henry Rollins
32. My favourite poem is the one that starts ‘Thirty days hath September’ because it actually tells you something. – Groucho Marx
33. Nobody should underestimate how much the world changed on the 11th of September 2001. – John Howard
34. Many of us saw religion as harmless nonsense. Beliefs might lack all supporting evidence but, we thought, if people needed a crutch for consolation, where’s the harm? September 11th changed all that. – Richard Dawkins
35. Our task, in the aftermath of September 11, was and continues to be the transformation of the effects of evil into something beautiful and good. – Marianne Williamson
36. But now in September the garden has cooled, and with it my possessiveness. The sun warms my back instead of beating on my head … The harvest has dwindled, and I have grown apart from the intense midsummer relationship that brought it on. – Robert Finch
37. September: it was the most beautiful of words, he’d always felt, evoking orange-flowers, swallows, and regret. – Alexander Theroux
38. In short, a bad Sunday of September, in September of that traitor who let you go a big wave passed upon him, like a gunshot between the prickly pears. – Giovanni Verga
39. We awoke one morning in September, and the world lurched on its axis. – Jeb Bush
40. The breezes taste of apple peel. The air is full of smells to feel ripe fruit, old footballs, burning brush, new books, erasers, chalk, and such. The bee, his hive, well-honeyed hum. And Mother cuts chrysanthemums. Like plates washed clean with suds, the days are polished with a morning haze. – John Updike
41. But now in September the garden has cooled, and with it my possessiveness. The sun warms my back instead of beating on my head. The harvest has dwindled, and I have grown apart from the intense midsummer relationship that brought it on. – Robert Finch
42. ‘Tis the last rose of summer, left blooming alone. All her lovely companions are faded and gone. – Thomas Moore
43. Departing summer hath assumed an aspect tenderly illumed. The gentlest look of spring. That calls from yonder leafy shade unfaded, yet prepared to fade a timely carolling. – William Wordsworth
44. Equal dark, equal light. Flow in Circle, deep insight. Blessed Be, Blessed Be. The transformation of energy. So it flows, out it goes. Three-fold back it shall be. Blessed Be, Blessed Be. The transformation of energy. – Night An’Fey
45. Smoke hangs like haze over harvested fields. The gold of stubble, the brown of turned earth. And you walk under the red light of fall. The scent of fallen apples, the dust of threshed grain. The sharp, gentle chill of fall. Here as we move into the shadows of autumn. The night that brings the morning of spring. Come to us, Lord of Harvest. Teach us to be thankful for the gifts you bring us. – Autumn Equinox Ritual
46. Alas, that my heart is a lute. Whereon you have learned to play. For a many years it was mute, until one summer’s day. You took it, and touched it, and made it thrill, and it thrills and throbs, and quivers still. – Anne Barnard
47. Sorrow and scarlet leaf, sad thoughts and sunny weather. Ah me, this glory and this grief agree not well together. – Thomas Parsons
48. Lord, it is time. The summer was very big. Lay thy shadow on the sundials, and on the meadows let the winds go loose. Command the last fruits that they shall be full; give them another two more southerly days, press them on to fulfillment and drive the last sweetness into the heavenly wine. – Rainer Maria Rilke
49. Blessed be the Lord for the beauty of summer and spring, for the air, the water, the verdure, and the song of birds. – Carl von Linnaeus
50. Well, we’ve faced very difficult decisions and challenges in our country, every one of us have, as we, since September 11th, as we fought the war on terror, all of those decisions that the President had to make to put young men and women in harm’s way. – Laura Bush
51. The September 11th tragedy forced us all to look at the world in a different way, and it reminds us all of the importance of living every moment. – Joanne Woodward
52. September twenty-second, Sir, the bough cracks with unpicked apples, and at dawn the small-mouth bass breaks water, gorged with spawn. – Robert Lowell
53. Summer afternoon – summer afternoon; to me those have always been the two most beautiful words in the English language. – Henry James
54. In the garden, Autumn is, indeed the crowning glory of the year, bringing us the fruition of months of thought and care and toil. And at no season, safe perhaps in Daffodil time, do we get such superb colour effects as from August to November. – Rose G. Kingsley
55. Horrible things can happen to you, and horrible things happened to us on September 11. But if we look for love and happiness and fulfillment, we will find it. – Ted Olson
56. Summer ends now, now, barbarous in beauty, the stooks arise around. Up above, what wind-walks. What lovely behavior of silk-sack clouds. Has wilder, willful-waiver. Meal-drift molded ever and melted across skies? 0 Gerard Manly Hopkins
57. The foliage has been losing its freshness through the month of August, and here and there a yellow leaf shows itself like the first gray hair amidst the locks of a beauty who has seen one season too many. – Oliver Wendell Holmes
58. Crown’d with the sickle, and the sheaten sheaf, while Autumn, nodding o’er the yellow plain, comes jovial on. – James Thomson
59. Under the harvest moon, when the soft silver. Drips shimmering over the garden nights. Death, the gray mocker, comes and whispers to you as a beautiful friend who remembers. – Carl Sandburg
60. September. It was the most beautiful of words. He’d always felt evoking orange flowers, swallows, and regret. – Alexander Theroux
61. Further in Summer than the birds, pathetic from the grass a minor nation celebrates. Its unobtrusive Mass. No ordinance be seen so gradual the grace. A pensive custom it becomes enlarging loneliness. – Emily Dickinson
62. The air is different today, the wind sings with a new tone sighing of changes coming. The harvest gathered, a flower, a nut, some mead, and bread, a candle and a prayer. Returning the fruits in thanksgiving to the grove and receiving it’s blessing again. – Rhawk
63. Yeah, September 11 happened and all my friends were like, ‘Let’s join the military.’ and I was the only one who actually did. – Adam Driver
64. Perhaps at a later point important developments will be traced back to September 11. But for now we do not know which of the many scenarios will actually hold in the future. – Jurgen Habermas
65. The lessons of September 11 are that if we allow law enforcement to do their work free of political interference, if we give them adequate resources and modern technologies, we can protect our citizens without intruding on our liberties. – Lucille Roybal-Allard
66. Spring scarce had greener fields to show than these of mid September. Through the still warm noon the rivulets ripple forth a gladder tune than ever in the summer. From the trees dusk-green, and murmuring inward melodies. No leaf drops yet; only our evenings swoon in pallid skies more suddenly, and the moon finds motionless white mists out on the leas. – Edward Dowden
67. I grow old, I grow old,’ the garden says. It is nearly October. The bean leaves grow paler, now lime, no yellow, no leprous, dissolving before my eyes. The pods curl and do not grow, turn limp and blacken. The potato vines wither and the tubers huddle underground in their rough weather-proof jackets, waiting to be dug. The last tomatoes ripen and split on the vine; it takes days for them to turn fully now, and a few of the green ones are beginning to fall off. – Robert Finch
68. The Druids call this celebration, Mea’n Fo’mhair, and honor the Green Man, the God of the Forest, by offering libations to trees. Offerings of ciders, wines, herbs and fertilizer are appropriate at this time. Mabon is considered a time of the Mysteries. It is a time to honor Aging Deities and the Spirit World. – Mabon by Akasha
69. For summer there, bear in mind, is a loitering gossip, that only begins to talk of leaving when September rises to go. – George Washington Cable
70. The goldenrod is yellow, the corn is turning brown. The trees in apple orchards with fruit are bending down. – Childrens song
71. Indian summer the old cat shares her corner of the deck. – James Chessing
72. There comes a time when autumn asks, “What have you been doing all summer?”
73. Do you remember the 21st night of September? Love was changing the minds of pretenders. While chasing the clouds away. Our hearts were ringing in the key that our souls were singing. As we danced in the night, remember how the stars stole the night away. – Maurice White
74. All your renown is like the summer flower that blooms and dies; because the sunny glow which brings it forth, soon slays with parching power. – Dante Alighieri
75. I have come to a still, but not a deep center, a point outside the glittering current. My eyes stare at the bottom of a river, at the irregular stones, iridescent sandgrains. My mind moves in more than one place, in a country half-land, half-water. I am renewed by death, thought of my death.
76. The dry scent of a dying garden in September. The wind fanning the ash of a low fire. What I love is near at hand, always, in earth and air. – Theodore Roethke
77. I don’t wanna say goodbye for the summer knowing the love we’ll miss. Oh let us make a pledge to meet in September and seal it with a kiss. Guess it’s gonna be a cold lonely summer. But I’ll fill the emptiness. I’ll send you all my love every day in a letter sealed with a kiss. – Bobby Vinton
78. The morrow was a bright September morn. The earth was beautiful as if newborn. There was nameless splendor everywhere, that wild exhilaration in the air, which makes the passers in the city street congratulate each other as they meet. – Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
79. Have a good time, but remember. There is dander in the summer moon above. Will I see you in September or loose you to a summer love. – S. Wayne and S. Edwards
80. What a pity, flowers can utter no sound. A singing rose, a whispering violet, a murmuring honeysuckle. Oh, what a rare and exquisite miracle would these be. – Henry Ward Beecher
81. September morn. Do you remember how we danced that night away. Two lovers playing scenes from some romantic play. September morning still can make me feel this way. – Neil Diamond and Gilbert Becaud
82. Happy we who can bask in this warm September sun, which illumines all creatures, as well when they rest as when they toil, not without a feeling of gratitude; whose life is as blameless, how blameworthy soever it may be, on the Lord’s Mona-day as on his Suna-day. – Henry David Thoreau
83. All good things vanish in less than a day. Peace, plenty, pleasure, suddenly decay. Go not yet away, bright soul of the sad year. The earth is hell when you leav’st to appear. – Thomas Nash
84. For it’s a long, long while from May to December. But the days grow short when you reach September. – Maxwell Anderson
85. The leaves of brown came tumbling down. Remember, in September, in the rain. The sun went out just like a dying amber. That September in the rain. – Al Dubin and Harry Warren
86. September is dressing herself in showy dahlias and splendid marigolds and starry zinnias. October, the extravagant sister, has ordered an immense amount of the most gorgeous forest tapestry for her grand reception. – Olive Wendell Holmes
87. September days are here. With summer’s best of weather. And autumn’s best of cheer. – Helen Hunt Jackson
88. September was a thirty-days long goodbye to summer, to the season that left everybody both happy and weary of the warm, humid weather and the exhausting but thrilling adventures. – Lea Malot
89. We say that we’re in love. While secretly wishing for rain. Sipping coke and playing games. September’s here again. – David Sylvian