#November quotes

[floralpoeticss]

November is the month of poets, artists, thinkers, lovers and wanderers.

[vividiangelo]

"November—with uncanny witchery in its changed trees. With murky red sunsets flaming in smoky crimson behind the westering hills."

–L.M. Montgomery

[positivelypresent]

Be patient with yourself. 🤎

[edwardian-girl-next-door]

Saturday, November 15th, 1919

"& so here I am, sitting after Saturday tea, a large warm meal, full of currants & sugar & hot tea cake, after a long cold walk."

~ Virginia Woolf, The Diary of Virginia Woolf, vol. 1 (1915-1919), ed. Anne Olivier Bell

[sk-lumen]

“Let this be the November you always remember. The November you chose to believe there was more to your future than you were able to see. The November where you learned to trust that after everything happened, in time, you would grow in the courage to open up again. And you could look forward to these new unknowns, believing that no matter what would happen, you would still grow. You would still be worthy of love, even though you were made to feel you were not good enough. Let this be the November you chose to rise above. Let this be the November where everything changed, and you decided you were free to heal and never be the same.”

— Morgan Harper Nichols

[thoselovelythings]

[lettersbycandlelight]

by taylorashleypoetry

[letsbeapoemtogether]

"One more year collapsing between us, between the dark of December, I think of you, I remember you."

Abhilasha, from goodbyes poems of November

[embeccy]

"I am not a woman, but the light that falls on this gate, on this ground. l am the seasons, I think sometimes, January, May, November; the mud, the mist, the dawn. I cannot be tossed about, or float gently, or mix with other people."

- Virginia Woolf

[traditionalwitch]

✨✨🧚🏽‍♂️✨✨

[floralpoeticss]

I learned to know the love of bare November days.

— Robert Frost

[that-bitch-kat3]

its that time, please everyone vote for your favorite thing that my friends and i said in november 💕💕

[godzilla-reads]

“November is silence,” says the Gaelic rann, but “every moment withered leaves are trembling down,” so that the silences of the month are none the less expressive in the Garden.

—Monthly Cleanings in a Scottish Garden by L.H. Soutar

[edwardian-girl-next-door]

Monday, November 26th, 1917

"Frostily cold night; stars polished to their brightest: so much brighter than the street lights."

~ Virginia Woolf, The Diary of Virginia Woolf, vol. 1 (1915-1919), ed. Anne Olivier Bell

[curvyquette]

November:

the last month of autumn, but the beginning of a new adventure, the month of poets, artists, thinkers, lovers and wanderers.

[bitesthehands]

In November, the earth is growing quiet. It is making its bed, a winter bed for flowers and small creatures. The bed is white and silent, and much life can hide beneath its blankets.

Cynthia Rylant

In November