He lives down in a ribcage in the dry leaves of a heart.

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly, when they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky. So up to the house-top…

— Clement Clarke Moore

We live in an age of prejudice, dissimulation and paradox, wherein, like dry leaves caught in a whirlpool, some of us are tossed helpless…

— H. P. Blavatsky

“You go and sit near a waterfall. You listen to it, but do you interpret what the waterfall says? It says nothing... still it…

— Osho

I was born to find goblins in their caves / And chase moonlight / To see shadows and seek hidden rivers / To hear…

— James Kavanaugh

And we'd sit in the dry leaves that whispered a little with the slow respiration of our waiting and with the slow breathing of…

— William Faulkner

“Madrid. It was that time, the story of Don Zana 'The Marionette,' he with the hair of cream-colored string, he with the large and…

— Rafael Sánchez Ferlosio

“This druid feeling I get in the woods’s so thrilling it makes me want to crap, so I dug a hole with a flat…

— David Mitchell

“At the very end of the street the bitumen gave way to reddish-orange dirt. And then it stopped altogether. Proud gumtrees blocked the road,…

— Duane Ratswander

“I felt that our survival was owed to our slightness, that we danced through ruinous currents as dry leaves do, and were not capsized…

— Marilynne Robinson

He types his labored column - weary drudge! Senile fudge and solemn: spare, editor, to condemn these dry leaves of his autumn.

— Robertson Davies

Whoever has no house now, will never have one. Whoever is alone will stay alone, will sit, read, write long letters through the evening,…

— Anonymous

Several times in my life I've gone through long periods without sex or any other kind of physical contact. The hunger it produces is…

— Hari Kunzru

“We were in the autumnlands. Dim as it was, the forest glowed. The golden leaves flashing by blazed like sparks caught in the updraft…

— Margaret Rogerson

If you are bitter you are like a dry leaf that you can squash and you can blow away by the wind. There is…

— Vusi Mahlasela

Dry leaves upon the wall, Which flap like rustling wings and seek escape, A single frosted cluster on the grape Still hangs--and that is…

— Sarah Chauncey Woolsey