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

By now, at the end of a sloping alley, we had reached the shores of a vast marsh. Some unknown quality in the sparkling — R. Murray Gilchrist, Terror by Gaslight: More Victorian Tales of Terror
Mothman flew away from town, like a giant bat, and then disappeared from sight behind a thicket of skeletal autumn trees — Don Roff, Heebie-Jeebies: Volume One
Change is coming, she whispered to the bugs bouncing off her window. You can’t escape it. — A. Lynn, Itsy's Ugly
It looked like the world was covered in a cobbler crust of brown sugar and cinnamon. — Sarah Addison Allen, First Frost
I was just telling Claire about a guy I met in bread class. I hate him, but he could be my soul mate. — Sarah Addison Allen, First Frost
Autumn...the year's last, loveliest s — John Howard Bryant
On the day the tree bloomed in the fall, when its white apple blossoms fell and covered the ground like snow, it was tra — Sarah Addison Allen, First Frost
At no other time (than autumn) does the earth let itself be inhaled in one smell, the ripe earth; in a smell that is in — Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters on Cézanne
October, baptize me with leaves! Swaddle me in corduroy and nurse me with split pea soup. October, tuck tiny candy bars — Rainbow Rowell, Attachments
Autumn carries more gold in its pocket than all the other seasons. — Jim Bishop
Autumn is as joyful and sweet as an untimely end. — Rémy de Gourmont
AUTUMNAL Pale amber sunlight falls across The reddening October trees, That hardly sway before a breeze As soft as summe — Ernest Dowson, The Poems and Prose of Ernest Dowson