A Quote by Sara Coleridge

Dull November brings the blast, Then the leaves are whirling fast. — © Sara Coleridge
Dull November brings the blast, Then the leaves are whirling fast.
Peter was dull; he was at first Dull; - Oh, so dull - so very dull! Whether he talked, wrote, or rehearsed - Still with his dulness was he cursed - Dull -beyond all conception - dull.
When chill November's surly blast Made fields and forests bare.
Snoopy (musing on his rooftop): Good Grief! Is it November already? My life is going by too fast. I think someone pushed the "Fast Forward" button.
There are certain things that you can blast through a stereo. You can blast hip-hop. You can blast heavy metal. You can't blast 'All Things Considered.'
My work is really a blast. When it stops being a blast, then it ain't no fun no more!
True solitude is a din of birdsong, seething leaves, whirling colors, or a clamor of tracks in the snow.
I wrote and directed a movie called 'Two - Bit Waltz'. We just wrapped. It was a blast, blast, blast.
October is the month for painted leaves. Their rich glow now flashes round the world. As fruits and leaves and the day itself acquire a bright tint just before they fall, so the year near its setting. October is its sunset sky; November the later twilight.
Women's words are as light as the doomed leaves whirling in autumn, Easily swept by the wind, easily drowned by the wave.
No shade, no shine, no butterflies, no bees, No fruits, no flowers, no leaves, no birds - November!
The bourgeoisie might blast and ruin its own world before it leaves the stage of history.
Fallen leaves lying on the grass in the November sun bring more happiness than the daffodils.
My brother's a blast to direct; he's one of those great characters who brings so much to every scene he's in, and we're pals.
So dull and dark are the November days. The lazy mist high up the evening curled, And now the morn quite hides in smoke and haze; The place we occupy seems all the world.
Long cold nights mark November's return, grey rains fall, wind walks in the bronze oak leaves.
Pain does two things: It teaches you, tells you that you're alive. Then it passes away and leaves you changed. It leaves you wiser, sometimes. Sometimes it leaves you stronger. Either way, pain leaves its mark, and everything important that will ever happen to you in life is going to involve it in one degree or another.
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