Quotes About Window

Brontola il vento al mio richiamo alla finestra, ma tu fingi raffiche di mitra. Sullo spiovuto selciato della strada si vedranno solo ortiche e stelle.

From the clear center of my heart, there are no edges to my loving you. I've heard it said there's a window that opens from one mind to another, but if there were no wall, what need of installing a window?" — RUMI

Teresa stood up, surprising Thomas with her confidence. "Guess he forgot to tell the little part about me kicking him in the groin and climbing out the window." Thomas almost laughed as Newt turned to an older boy standing nearby, whose face had turned bright red. "Congrats, Jeff," Newt said. "You're officially the first guy here to get your butt beat by a girl.

Then the strangest thing happened. Thomas looked out the window and saw a banged-up Crank staring at him from twenty feet away. It took him a second to register that the Crank was his friend. Newt. CHAPTER 55 Newt looked horrible.

The boat is very close now, its noises filling the air along with the smell of fuel. Mark can see the faint shadow of two people behind the darkened window

The boat is very close now, its noises filling the air along with the smell of fuel. Mark can see the faint shadow of two people behind the darkened window now, and they both appear to be male. They both have short hair, anyway.

Auld Daddy Darkness... See him in the corners hidin' frae the licht, See him at the window gloomin' at the nicht...

A house is never still in darkness to those who listen intently; there is a whispering in distant chambers, an unearthly hand presses the snib of the window, the latch rises. Ghosts were created when the first man woke in the night.

Zidovi boje cimeta, kiša na prozorskim daskama, zamašna tišina i osje?aj dubine i daljine, poput laka na pozadini slike iz devetnaestog stolje?a.

Um—" I turned to the shop window to compose myself, and my transparent ghost turned to meet me, crowds passing behind me in the glass.

Neither place was readily apparent to a drunk stumbling out into the night. But Monmouth was scarcely thirty feet away, and my own room, with its conspicuously lighted window, must have loomed in his path like a beacon.

In the first week of April the weather turned suddenly, unseasonably, insistently lovely. The sky was blue, the air warm and windless, and the sun beamed on the muddy ground with all the sweet impatience of June. Toward the fringe of the wood, the young trees were yellow with the first tinge of new leaves; woodpeckers laughed and drummed in the copses and, lying in bed with my window open, I could hear the rush and gurgle of the melted snow running in the gutters all night long.

The gorgeous creature by the window did not move, nor was there a notable change in his plumage. But by some means it was made clear that against the latticed panes of the casement stood a man trained for war, and with skills of a sort which had protected Lyons; had saved Paris; had recovered Calais for an alien monarch.

eside him, on a low table stood a chess set she remembered. The heavy pieces of rock crystal and silver stood, darkly glimmering below the light of the window, and the fire, seeking them, had placed within each a small tongue of living flame. She said, 'There are not many pieces now left on the board. Who is your opponent?' 'Myself. Who else?' Lymond said.

They expected to be fed; and Lady Buccleuch, for whom pregnancy spelled food, had already taken strategic foothold by the windows, where the cold dishes were ready laid.

When it's fall in New York, the air smells as if someone's been frying goats in it, and if you are keen to breathe, the best plan is to open a window and stick your head in a building.

She was about to demand a full and instant explanation of this preposterous remark when a passing white Ford Sierra slowed down beside them. The driver wound down the window and leaned out. "Had a crash then?" he shouted at them. "Yes." "Ha!" he said and drove on.

Shall I leave the window open or would you like to try the door?" she said with a sniff.

Fall, though, is the worst. Few things are worse than fall in New York. Some of the things that live in the lower intestines of rats would disagree, but most of the things that live in the lower intestines of rats are highly disagreeable anyway, so their opinion can and should be discounted. When it's fall in New York, the air smells as if someone's been frying goats in it, and if you are keen to breathe, the best plan is to open a window and stick your head in a building.

You: a woman too old for passive contemplation caught staring out a window at bird-of-paradise spikes jewelled with rain, across an alley

somewhere. Two men below her window were talking French. One was a French officer, the other was a little man with enormous moustaches. She smiled faintly. She had never seen anyone quite so heavily muffled up. It must be very cold outside. That was why they heated the train so terribly. She tried to force the window down lower, but it would not go. The Wagon Lit conductor had come up to the two men. The train was about to depart, he said. Monsieur had better mount. The little man

St. John's House was a new block of extremely expensive flats. There were sumptuous window boxes and uniformed porters of such magnificence that they looked like foreign generals.

It is a mystery to me," I said, "how anyone gets any nourishment in this place. They must eat their meals standing up by the window so as to be sure of not missing anything.

General Macarthur looked out of the carriage window. The train was just coming into Exeter, where he had to change.