November Solemn Quotes

It was so close to October that Halloween was knocking at his heart. ~ Barry Eysman

We mourn the blossoms of May because they are to whither; but we know that May is one day to have its revenge upon November, by the revolution of that solemn circle which never stops
which teaches us in our height of hope, ever to be sober, and in our depth of desolation, never to despair. ~ William Peter Blatty

November 1775, when our Founding Fathers ". . .resolved, that two Battalions of Marines be raised. . .[and]. . .that particular care be taken that no person be appointed or enlisted into said Battalions, but such as are good seamen or so acquainted with maritime affairs as are able to serve to advantage by sea, ~ Tom Clancy

Or in the forest; mingling various walks with the splash and murmur of the waves, and the solemn wind-anthem among the tree-tops. ~ Nathaniel Hawthorne

Lombardi, a certain magic still lingers in the very name. It speaks of duels in the snow and November mud ... He remains for many the heart of pro football, pumping hard right now. ~ Steve Sabol

In between the graves she set a large carving of an Angel, much like the ones in the ballroom. He was beautiful, about eight feet tall. His face was solemn, his wings spread out behind his back, and his arms outstretched over each of my parent's graves. A perfect Guardian Angel, who would be watching over them in their eternal sleep. ~ Cameo Renae

November, if your heart was mine it would never break. ~ Andrea Randall

You need me," said Xiaohui breathlessly, pulling November over her, sliding hands under her belt to claw and knead. "You need me."
"Don't you mean 'I need you'?" whispered November in the girl's ear.
"No," she sighed, arching her back, tipping her chin up, making herself easy to kiss, easy to fall into, easy to devour. "You'll see. You'll see. ~ Catherynne M Valente

Wear audacious underwear under the most solemn business attire. ~ H. Jackson Brown, Jr.

The people look forbidding, solemn, marked by that impossible ideal, Communism, which, like Christianity, seemed to demand too much of humanity and, falling into the wrong hands, led too easily to horrible brutality. ~ John Mortimer

I'm already waiting when Puck gets to the top of the cliffs. I'm not the only one; about two dozen race tourists have made perches out of rocks, watching Corr and me as closely as they dare. Puck glares at them all, searing enough that some of them flinch in surprise. I'm not certain what to expect from her after last night. I don't know how to address her. I don't know what she expects from me or what I expect from me.
What I get is a wordless hello and a November cake in my hand. ~ Maggie Stiefvater

The cabins they passed among seemed solemn in their abandonment, cramped by the watercourse and the overhanging brow of the cloudy mountain. Some of its people might yet be living, and Ada wondered how often they remembered this lonesome place, now still as a held breath. Whatever word they had called it would soon be numbered among the names of things which have not been passed down to us and are exiled from our memories. She doubted that its people, even in the last days, had ever looked ahead and imagined loss so total and so soon. they had not foreseen a near time when theirs would be another world filled with other people whose mouths would speak other words, whose sleep would be eased or troubled with other dreams, whose prayers would be offered up to other gods. ~ Charles Frazier

America was magnificently characterized in November of 2008 when we elected, for the first time, an African-American President of the United States. ~ David Scott

We are wide open and vulnerable and in all likelihood an activist judge will strike down our Defense of Marriage Act, our state law against gay marriage, this year. And in all likelihood, we will have gay marriage in 2004 in Minnesota , if we don't get this amendment on the ballot for November. ~ Michele Bachmann

Many times I have walked the road in the solemn hush of a winter's snowfall. And it seems that the inexpressible peace of winter tenderly afoot in moments such as these is God whispering to my soul that the peace that now surrounds me can be the peace that lives within me. I only have to quit trying to create the snow and let Him bring the snowfall. ~ Craig D. Lounsbrough

It is our solemn duty, our precious privilege-even our sacred opportunity-to welcome to our homes and to our hearts the children who grace our lives. ~ Thomas S. Monson

Yet some natures are too good to be spoiled by praise, and wherever the vein of thought reaches down into the profound, there is no danger from vanity. Solemn friends will warn them of the danger of the head's being turned by the flourish of trumpets, but they can afford to smile. ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

But it certainly is a wonderful thing to wake up suddenly in the solitude of the woods and look up at the sky and see the utter nonsense of everything including all the solemn stuff given out by professional asses about the spiritual life; and simply to burst out laughing, and laugh and laugh, with the sky and the trees because God is not in words, and not in systems, and not in liturgical movements, and not in "contemplation" with a big "C," or in asceticism or in anything like that, not even in the apostolate. ~ Thomas Merton

Back in bed I listen to every sound. The plastic tarp over the table on the balcony crunching in the cold wind. the two short clicks in the walls before the heat comes on with a low whoosh. I hear a constant base hum all around, the nervous system of the building, carrying electricity and gas and phone conversations to all our respective little boxes. I listen to it all, the constant, the rhythmic, and the random. It's hard to measure the night by sound, but it can be done. I know that when the traffic noise is quietest, it's about 4:30 in the morning. I know that when the 'Times' hits the door, it's around 5. Now the clock says it's morning, 5:45, but the November sky still says midnight. I hear the elevator ding twenty yards down the hall outside our door. Seven seconds later, I hear his keys in our lock, then his heavy backpack hitting the floor. I hear the refrigerator door open, the unsealing vacuum wheezing as the cold inside air meets the dry heat in the apartment. The cupboard door. A glass. The crescendoing fizz of a new two-liter Diet Coke bottle opening. It's a one-sided conversation with no one actually talking. I lie in the dark, close my eyes, and try not to listen to his movements around apartment. these are the sounds of our life together before it got so messy. I want to say something back. Anything, anything that sounds like things sounded last summer. Even just to myself. Just something out loud.
The inside of my eyelids turn pink. My door has been op ~ Josh Kilmer-Purcell

The whole functioning of the mediaeval University was profoundly agonistic and ludic. The everlasting disputations which took the place of our learned discussions in periodicals, etc., the solemn ceremonial which is still such a marked feature of University life, the grouping of scholars into nationes, the divisions and subdivisions, the schisms, the unbridgeable gulfs - all these are phenomena belonging to the sphere of competition and play-rules. Erasmus ~ Johan Huizinga

Age should fly concourse, cover in retreat defects of judgment, and the will subdue; walk thoughtful on the silent, solemn shore of that vast ocean it must sail so soon. ~ Edward Young

The Sparrow Sisters' roses still bloomed on New Year's Day, their scent rich and warm even when snow weighted their petals closed. When customers came down the rutted road to the small eighteenth-century barn where the sisters worked, they marveled at the jasmine that twined through the split-rail fence, the perfume so intense they could feel it in their mouths. As they paid for their purchases, they wondered (vaguely, it must be said, for the people of Granite Point knew not to think too hard about the Sisters) how it was that clematis and honeysuckle climbed the barn in November and the morning glories bloomed all day. The fruit trees were so fecund that the peaches hung on the low branches, surrounded by more blossoms, apples and pears ripened in June and stayed sweet and fresh into December. Their Italian fig trees were heavy with purple teardrop fruit only weeks after they were planted. If you wanted a tomato so ripe the juice seemed to move beneath the skin, you needed only to pick up a punnet at the Nursery. ~ Ellen Herrick

I am not in pursuit of wealth, neither am I in want of fame! I am not after applauds that shall turn into slaps after a least slip. I do not need absolute acceptance or absolute rejection; neither am I after a total approval nor disapproval! I am in pursuit of wisdom! I am in pursuit of a true and a solemn dignity; I am in pursuit of nurturing a true and a great destiny in my journey to the final destination! I do not seek for carnal reward, but if the world will reward me, it shall be for good; If the world will accept who I am as I am and what I stand for, fine, if not, I only look up to my Heavenly Father to accomplish a solemn duty for a solemn reward! ~ Ernest Agyemang Yeboah

In that distant beginning season, Sun Man's warm magic flowed over all the land. Whenever he raised his arms, it was day. whenever he lowered them, it was night. The Bee People and the Elephant People and the Tic People loved the rhythm of Sun Man's light. Their faces crinkled with pleasure in his heat.

But inside the dreamtime, Sun Man grew old. His back grew stiff and his knee joints ached. He rose later and later each morning. He napped soon after breakfast and went to bed in the afternoon.

"What's going on here?" complained Grandfather Mantis. "I'm not getting heat anymore." Grandfather Mantis sent the Bird People to find out. The Bird People returned, rumpled and solemn. Darkness was everywhere, even though it was supposed to be daytime. "Sun Man is getting old," they explained. "This shining all the time is getting too much for him."

"Well, I'm old," snapped Grandfather Mantis. "Doesn't stop me."

His wife raised her eyebrows but said nothing. ~ Carolyn McVickar Edwards

The man knows he's a target. He's very careful. The'll find the guns.'
Kolya responded with a mournful fart, low and solemn as a single note of a baritone horn. ~ David Benioff

I can see November from my house. ~ Sarah Palin

Because that's exactly where I'll be. And if you don't show up today, I'll be there next year. And the next. Every November 9th I'll wait for you, hoping one day you'll be able to find enough forgiveness to love me again. But if that doesn't happen and you never show, I'll still be grateful to you until the day that I die. You ~ Colleen Hoover

It could snow
We don't take care. The end of November came without coldness, with haunting and limp rains, pretty much leaves still laying anywhere on the sidewalks. It comes a morning with another grey, compact, closed, air changes its texture. Under the pharmacy green cross the thermometer sticks, in red, two degrees. The number, a bit blurred thins down in the space. We didn't expect it, but it grows, far inside us, the little sentence. It comes to the lips like a forgotten song: "It could snow …" We should not dare to mention it in loud voice, it is still so much autumn, all could finish in a stupid freezing sudden shower, in a fog of boredom. But the idea of a possible snow came back, it's what matters. No downhill in a sledge-trash-bag, no snowman, no children shouting,no pictures of landscape metamorphosis. Largely best then all that, because the essential snow is inside the unformulated. Before. Something we didn't know we knew. Before snow, before love, the same lack, the same dimmed grey which days' triteness creates pretending to suffocate.
We shall cross somebody:
-This time it's almost winter!
-Yes we start to be crestfallen!
Workers hang pieces of tinsel. We didn't say too much. Especially do not frighten away the slight shade of the idea. The red thermometer went down, one degree. It could snow. ~ Philippe Delerm

Every man should lose a battle in his youth, so he does not lose a war when he is old. ~ George R R Martin

I am free
I let go of freedom
to free the human race.
Religious Leader Petra Cecilia Maria Hermans
The Religion Of The Blue Circle
November 12, 2016 ~ Petra Hermans

November was here, and it frightened her because she knew what it brought - cold upon the valley like a coming death, glacial wind through the cracks between the cabin logs. But most of all, darkness. Darkness so complete ~ Eowyn Ivey

I like to write when I feel spiteful. It is like having a good sneeze.
(Letter to Cynthia Asquith, November 1913) ~ D.H. Lawrence

The girl looks out the window, watching the gentle, familiar blue sky fade into darkness. The stars come out, slowly at first and then all together, diamond-bright, each one a new world to discover.
But no matter how long the girl looks, she feels nothing. Puzzled, she looks for the girl who wanted to be an explorer, the girl who wanted to learn deep-sea diving and mountain-climbing, the girl who wanted to travel the stars. But she can't find her. That girl died when her parents did, in a little shop in the slums of November. And now she has no soul left to shatter.
She closes the shade over the window. ~ Amie Kaufman