Wind warns November’s done with. The blown leaves make bat-shapes, Web-winged and furious. — Sylvia Plath, The Collected Poems
Wind warns November’s done with. The blown leaves make bat-shapes, Web-winged and furious. — Sylvia Plath, The Collected Poems
Wind warns November’s done with. The blown leaves make bat-shapes, Web-winged and furious. — Sylvia Plath, The Collected Poems
Wind warns November’s done with. The blown leaves make bat-shapes, Web-winged and furious. — Sylvia Plath, The Collected Poems
Wind warns November’s done with. The blown leaves make bat-shapes, Web-winged and furious. — Sylvia Plath, The Collected Poems
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Wind warns November’s done with. The blown leaves make bat-shapes, Web-winged and furious.

— Sylvia Plath, The Collected Poems
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More “Autumn” Quotes

I was only twelve. But I knew how much I loved her. It was that love that comes before all significance of body and mora — Ray Bradbury, The October Country
Night, which in Autumn seems to fall from the sky so suddenly, chilled us... — Jules Barbey d'Aurevilly, The Crimson Curtain
The bleak autumn wind was still blowing, and the solemn, surging moan of it in the wood was dreary and awful to hear thr — Wilkie Collins, Reign of Terror Volume 2: Great Victorian Horror Stories
We pretended she'd only gotten lost in the colors of fall.Piper — T. Greenwood, Undressing the Moon
Nothing in this universe is able to complete its travel on the road of infinity! Because the road is very very long, tra — Mehmet Murat ildan
Sadness in autumn is an autumn within autumn! — Mehmet Murat ildan
He was like an autumn without leaves, he was unreal! — Mehmet Murat ildan
No king has a throne more beautiful than a bench covered with the autumn leaves! — Mehmet Murat ildan
Or maybe spring is the season of love and fall the season of mad lust. Spring for flirting but fall for the untamed deli — Elizabeth Cohen, The Hypothetical Girl
Jack Frost hibernates from March to November,dreaming snowflake designs to share in December.With glittering breath, sno — Claudine Carmel, Lucy Lick-Me-Not and the Greedy Gubbins: A Christmas Story
His eyes reflected the open grey of the autumnal sky. — Juliet Marillier, Daughter of the Forest
The mountain trees that grew between the pines were a brilliant blaze of fall colors, like fire against the emerald gree — V.C. Andrews, Petals on the Wind