Quotes About Attic

The phone rang in the comm. center. Ian consulted the monitor. "It's Dan." He pressed a button. "Kabra here." Dan's voice crackled through the attic. "Don't say it like that," he complained. "Your name still gives me heartburn.

The press is like the peculiar uncle you keep in the attic - just one of those unfortunate things.

This neglect of lore associated with Crete is reflected in classical Greek art and literature although, paradoxically, its remnants are found only in Attic myths.6

It appeared before her one night in the attic like a spark, a small and simple truth

There was an emptiness about the heart of life; an attic room.

There was an emptiness about the heart of life; an attic room. Women must put off their rich apparel. At midday they must disrobe.

So the room was an attic; the bed narrow; and lying there reading, for she slept badly, she could not dispel a virginity preserved through childbirth which clung to her like a sheet. Lovely in girlhood, suddenly there came a moment...

There is dancing and laughter in hell, an angel weeping openly on a park bench in heaven. My mother, dead and frantic in an attic. A white shirt on a floor. An old man in a wheelchair, rubbing his eyes. Here it is, here it is! the occupational therapists sing as they rise to the surface of the earth, smiling, bearing their terrible surprise.

They set up her nursery in the bedroom in the attic, where things that were not wanted were kept

I always used to hear Mom say Grandma Dotty was a big pack rat. And to be honest, I never really thought about what that meant. I just thought:

The attic is not haunting your head – your head is haunting the attic. Some heads are more haunted than others, whether they are haunted by ghosts or by gods or by creatures from outer space.

Even the nights above the great roofs of the town seemed merely the uppermost level of an earthbound estate, at most an old attic in which the stars were useless heirlooms and the moon a dusty trunk of dreams.

Prue touched piper's shoulder. Don't worry, no one's going to the attic. but theres no point in leaving the house. we are perfectly safe here. Don't say that! Piper cried. in horror movies, the person that says that is always the next to die.

Back home, I went to my closet and pulled out the old engineer's transit case stored there. When we were kids, Emma and I had found it in the attic, dusty and empty, and the leather strap used to carry it had a small cut in it. The tag on the top of the wooden-hinged lid read Circa 1907 . It was mostly weatherproof and offered plenty of room for the things I valued—like books.

My brother had been given a chemistry set for his bar mitzvah, but he wasn't interested in it. It was upstairs in the attic, and I would sneak up there and use it at great peril because I was afraid if he found out, he would get very angry at me, but he didn't seem to care.

I'm not a big fan of antiques shows or 'Cash In The Attic.' I don't care about the rubbish in your loft! I don't find it stimulating in any way.

The age demanded an image Of its accelerated grimace, Something for the modern stage, Not, at any rate, an Attic grace.

Vivian said she wanted to clean out her attic. But I think what she really wanted was to see what was in those boxes one last time. And remember those parts of her life.

Paris, however?because of her purely fortuitous beauty, because of the old things which have become a part of her, because of her entanglement of buildings and tenements?Paris yields herself in discovery as an attic beloved in our childhood gave up its secrets.

She's the Indian who lives in my attic.

This is a book. It is a book I found in a box. I found the box in the attic. The box was in the attic, under the eaves. The attic was hot and still. The air was stale with dust. The dust was from old pictures and books. The dust in the air was made up of the book I found. I breathed the book before I saw it; tasted the book before I read it.

According to Monica, the nanny, she said, "I've got him." The head on the lap would over time somehow metamorphosize into my molesting her in the attic, but that reenactment of Dory Previn's song scenario would come later.

Un libro, en el desván. Trata sobre seres fantásticos, fantásticos pero reales. Fijaos qué feos son.

The attic of your beautiful throat is laced with owl and cobweb. Night sings north, the need of winter. Look up and know what will become of us is stars.