#autumn

How certain are you that this forest is Darken Wood, Raistin?" "How certain is one of anything, Half-Elven?" the mage replied. "I am not certain of drawing my next breath. But go ahead. Walk into the wood that no living man has ever walked out. Death is life's one great certainty, Tanis." The half-elf felt a sudden urge to throw Raistlin off the side of the mountain. ↗

— Margaret Weis

#death

The bleak autumn wind was still blowing, and the solemn, surging moan of it in the wood was dreary and awful to hear through the night silence. Issac felt strangely wakeful. He resolved, as he lay down in bed, to keep the candle alight until he began to grow sleepy; for there was something unendurably depressing in the bare idea of lying awake in the darkness, listening to the dismal, ceaseless moan of the wind in the wood. ("The Dream Woman") ↗

— Wilkie Collins

#night #wind #dreams

He found himself wondering at times, especially in the autumn, about the wild lands, and strange visions of mountains that he had never seen came into his dreams. ↗

— J.R.R. Tolkien

#wanderlust #dreams

Enchantment and fulfillment were on the gold and garnet horizon - autumn's breath, a dormant dream reawakened, a yearning nearly satiated, a tender thank you with a brush of the lips, and a connection as fingers touch and go hand in hand. ↗

— Donna Lynn Hope

#fall #romance #seasons #dreams

Why should I wake when I'm half past dead? ↗

— Emilie Autumn

#autumn

I cannot endure to waste anything so precious as autumnal sunshine by staying in the house. ↗

— Nathaniel Hawthorne

#nature #sunshine #nature

Days decrease, And autumn grows, autumn in everything. ↗

— Robert Browning

#fall #nature #nature

I was drinking in the surroundings: air so crisp you could snap it with your fingers and greens in every lush shade imaginable offset by autumnal flashes of red and yellow. ↗

— Wendy Delsol

#crisp #fall #imagine #leaf #leaves

Autumn is the hardest season. The leaves are all falling, and they're falling like they're falling in love with the ground. ↗

— Andrea Gibson

#love #love

A moral character is attached to autumnal scenes; the leaves falling like our years, the flowers fading like our hours, the clouds fleeting like our illusions, the light diminishing like our intelligence, the sun growing colder like our affections, the rivers becoming frozen like our lives--all bear secret relations to our destinies. ↗

— François-René de Chateaubriand

#fall #the-fall #intelligence