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Long cold nights mark November's return, grey rains fall, wind walks in the bronze oak leaves.

Gladys Taber

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Gladys Taber
Age: 80 †
Born: 1899
Born: April 12
Died: 1980
Died: March 11
Author
Writer
Colorado Springs
Colorado
Gladys Bagg Taber
Night
Leaves
Long
Rain
Mark
Rains
Return
Bronze
Wind
Oaks
Cold
November
Walks
Nights
Fall
Grey

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November wind has a sound different from any other. It is easy to imagine the cave of the winds in some mythical Northland where the winds are born and the gods send them out to conquer the quiet air.
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Christmas is a bridge. We need bridges as the river of time flows past.
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June in New England is like a lover's dream made tangible.
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Father was the most unreconciled taxpayer I ever knew.
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the real evidence of growing older is that things level off in importance ... Days are no longer jagged peaks to climb time is a meadow, and we move over it with level steps.
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The real evidence of growing older is that things level off in importance.
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My general attitude toward life when I first get up is of deep suspicion, verging on hatred. ... I am simply basted together until after breakfast.
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Faith is a curious thing. It must be renewed it has its own spring.
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Happiness of heart can never be measured out and bundled up, it's intangible. We keep running after it, grasping for it, and the heat of our running so seldom brings it closer. But now and then there may be a moment. We look at something and know it is good and beautiful. Those moments are happiness.
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There must be hundreds of unsung heroes and heroines who first tasted strange things growing - and think of the man who first ate a lobster. This staggers the imagination. I salute him every time I take my nutcracker in hand and move the melted-butter pipkin closer.
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History records the large events or the general condition of society, but only an individual can put down the way of life in a small town.
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If I had Aladdin's lamp and the usual three wishes, the first would always be, 'Give me the first day of June.
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April is a promise of what's to come.
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The creative instincts, the love force must be nourished with every beat of our hearts until they overbalance the destructive instincts.
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Most cats feel that bird-catching is their duty the instinct goes back to prehistoric times. Amber keeps in practice by chasing moths.
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Old houses, I thought, do not belong to people ever, not really, people belong to them.
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A good recipe for a human reducing breakfast is a lot of good things to eat, and three spaniels and two cats to eat with.
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the tentacles of today reach out like an octopus to swallow yesterday.
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Happiness is a thing of now.
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Life is a process of discovery, of new perceptions.
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