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a windy March is lucky. Every pint of March dust brings a peck of September corn, and a pound of October cotton.
When I was 16, the first book I ever actually purchased with my own money, in fact, and had read on my own time was "Hunt for Red October" by Tom Clancy...
One of the problems of not allowing the American people to read what bin Laden has said is that in October 2001 just after the war began in Afghanistan, he gave a speech that had two parts to it.
On October 19, 1949, I got a telephone call from the Philadelphia (A's) front office informing me I had been traded to the White Sox for Joe Tipton. I was surprised and hurt.
After the first International Days of Protest in October, 1965, Senator Mansfield criticized the 'sense of utter irresponsibility' shown by the demonstrators.
When I got sick this past summer, I couldn't - my mind just wasn't on music. The rest of the band understood. But once October came, I felt ready to get back again.
One afternoon late in October of the year 1697, Euclide Auclair, the philosopher apothecary of Quebec, stood on the top of Cap Diamant gazing down the broad, empty river far beneath him.
A thousand happy moments succumbed to history. It was the happiest hour of the year, worst time of our lives. I can still smell the ruins from that cold dark brute stormy October night.
The crickets still sing in October. And lilly, she's trying to bloom. Tho she's resting her head on the shoulder of death, she still shines by the light of the moon.
Thing about being free is, comes a point where you can't turn back, even if you wanted to....Even if you wanted to, they wouldn't take you. You've gone to far.
Ah, Lovely October, as you usher in the season that awakens my soul, your awesome beauty compels my spirit to soar like an leaf caught in an autumn breeze and my heart to sing like a heavenly choir.
The dust was antique spice, burnt maple leaves, a prickling blue that teemed and sifted to earth. Swarming its own shadows, the dust filtered over the tents.
October had tremendous possibility. The summer's oppressive heat was a distant memory, and the golden leaves promised a world full of beautiful adventures. They made me believe in miracles.
We were letting go of October, relinquishing color, readying ourselves for streets lacquered with ice, the town closed like a walnut, locked inside the cold.
I detest 'Jingle Bells, ' 'White Christmas, ' 'Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, ' and the obscene spending bonanza that nowadays seems to occupy not just December, but November and much of October, too.