If one can depend on any season, it is on the chill suns of October, which, like an elderly beauty, are less capricious than spring or summer.

— Horace Walpole, The Letters of Horace Walpole

If you ask residents of the Northern Hemisphere their favorite time of year, I wonder how often it would correlate with their birthdays. Do people born in early February have a sentimental attachment to cold, short days? Do people born in mid-August love the blazing sun and suffocating humidity? Or is it simply an objective, scientifically-proven fact that late October is the most beautiful time of year, and anyone of sound mind would choose to be born now if they could?