Quotes About Window

But all memories, no matter how distant, no matter how distorted, have the shadow of truth underneath. Even the most imperfect memory is a window—

There again is memory at my doorstep -- jasmine crushed under departing feet. The moon extinguishes its silver pain on the window.

The moon slipped down into the frame of the window and reached an arm of pure light through the glass.

Light enters through the window and opacity is vanished!" exclaimed the alien.

Each piece of exhibited, unconscious body language was an affecting window into private motivations and the delict ballet of the particular interactions in which they found themselves.

Scarlett soon found herself leaning halfway out the window, trying to figure out how to get the shutters closed. If she killed herself trying to close these darn things, she was going to be super annoyed.

The lights have been dimmed and the window is awash in the blackness and he can see a hairline fracture of dawn against the horizon.

Goals incapable of attainment have driven many a man to despair, but despair is easier to get to than that -- one need merely look out of the window, for example.

Since the conversation had deteriorated to a loop, Dortmunder abandoned it and looked out his window instead at the thin sunlight out there, until Murch's Mom made the right turn onto Eighth Avenue and sank contentedly into the perpetual blockage there, a traffic snarl well into its second century, running—or not running—from below Penn Station up to above the Port Authority bus terminal.

Generation after generation, my family's old people sat at this window to watch the year. There are beds in this house where babies were born, where the same babies died eighty years later.

I hear the sounds of melting snow outside my window every night and with the first faint scent of spring, I remember life exists

Sometimes she just stands and looks out the window where the people whose lives are intact enough not to have to take yoga live.

Me asomo a la ventana, con temor de ver lo que no quiero ver.

Maybe you can see from this that I am quite familiar with being in detention. Matter of fact, I feel like I have always been in detention. I am an old veteran of detention, like one of Napoleon's soldiers limping back from the battle of Moscow. No, not like them--they were chumps. More like--one of the girls who died in the Triangle Fire looking out the window and realizing it is too far to jump, then jumping.

In traveling about the city that day, Dodd was struck anew by the "extraordinary" German penchant for Christmas display. He saw Christmas trees everywhere, in every public square and every window. "One might think," he wrote, "the Germans believed in Jesus or practiced his teachings!

We'll come home and eat here and we'll have a lovely meal and drink Beaune from the co-operative you can see right out of the window there with the price of the Beaune on the window. And afterwards we'll read and then go to bed and make love." "And we'll never love anyone else but each other." "No. Never.

A whole tree of lightning stood in the sky. She kept looking out the window, suffused with the warmth from the fire and with the pity and beauty and power of her death. The thunder rolled.

A new morning was dawning grey outside the window.

I shit on justice!" yelled the mayor, not caring if there were any voters under the window.

Zack walked across the room to the window, leaned out and peered into the night.

She herself is a haunted house. She does not possess herself; her ancestors sometimes come and peer out of the window of her eyes and this is very frightening.

Finally into my jeans, I raced to my window. Yeah, there he was, all gold and ivory in the raw light, high-stepping toward our three horses and looking like one of my dreams turned real.

Marissa's head appeared at the window. "Okay, this is a bit yucky," she said, "but it has to be done." She poked her head back through the window and kissed Jenna. Jenna leaped back in surprise. "Told you it was lucky." Marissa grinned. "But you're a witch now.

I opened the large central window of my office room to its full on the fine early May morning. Then I stood for a few moments, breathing in the soft, warm air that was charged with the scent of white lilacs below.