Quotes About Window

When I talk about solitude I am really talking also about making space for that intense, hungry face at the window, starved cat, starved person.

The black mother perceives destruction at every door, ruination at each window, and even she herself is not beyond her own suspicion.

north toward Yorkville. Alana tore her gaze from the window, by some instinct sure Trevor had been watching her. But when she looked at him, his head was buried in the evening copy of the Chronicle as he analyzed the stock-market section. The front page, emblazoned with the details of their wedding

You're awake, he said from the window seat where he'd been sitting with Spike and a copy of Abbie Hoffman's Steal This Book that I happen to know he'd stolen from my mother's bookshelf downstairs.

I woke with a terrible headache and wobbled around 'till I fell out the window. You what? Fell out the window. That one over there. She [Edwina] gestured to the curtain behind her. I broke my back. My spine is all wobbly now, but it doesn't hurt.

The rain streamed through the window and splashed on the boards, so that little beads of dust ran to and fro on the floor like globules of mercury.

I'm an organism of the earth, a Taurus. I was never born of air, of water, or of fire. I'm a creature of gravity and I could feel the ground whisper. The same thing happens to me in old hotels when I'm staying on the twenty-second floor. I open a window and want to fling myself out.

It was the time of year when migrating crows wheeled across the sky, thunderous flocks that moved like a single veil, and I heard them, out there in the wild chirruping air. Turing to the window, I watched the birds fill the sky before disappearing, and when the air was still again, I watched the empty place where they had been.

No child is wholly wrapped in the present who has grown up seeing a Norman castle from his or her bedroom window.

And if I'm homesick it's a window shrouded with ice where a young girl traces a name on the glass that's beginning to look like my name. It's the sky taking shape before me in the silence like a ghost who makes nothing come true.

He could look out the window and see nothing but deep snow and deep woods, the perfect picture for Christmas.

But that did not make Mirko happy - the world was melting away; what was a grade compared with the world? He gazed through the windows and watched the thickly falling snow.

He hangs on now, pressing his hand lightly against the wall, below the window, waiting for the familiar arrow of pain. Only there is none. An oddly pleasant swell of memory, a wave of warmth flooding over him, sliding back, slowly. It is a first

Jarena Harban removed a folded handkerchief from the pocket of her frayed cotton skirt and rubbed the smudged train window. Vestiges of cinder and ash stubbornly clung to the outside of the glass, but she could see well enough to determine there were a multitude of people waiting at the train depot. They were mostly white folks, but she spied a few coloreds among the crowd. She swiped the window again, but to no avail. With a defeated shrug, she tucked the cotton square back into her pocket.

Our dream dashes itself against the great mystery like a wasp against a window pane. Less merciful than man, God never opens the window.

Dora erhebt sich vom Küchentisch und lässt eine Fliege ins Freie, die schon seit geraumer Zeit an der Schreibe brummt. Taumelnd schwebt das Insekt durchs Fenster, irgendwie unbeholfen, als wäre die Idee von Freiheit nur schön, solange man eine Fensterscheibe hat, die einen aufhält.

watching their smoke lured out the window by the sun.

Sunrise went straight off to take a shower. Jacaranda left and returned from across the street, where she'd picked up two half-gallons of Iglenook Chablis, and poured herself a glass of cold wine. She looked out the window and tried to remember.

One winter morning Peter woke up and looked out the window. Snow had fallen during the night. It covered everything as far as he could see.

So much barren regret! So many hours wasted! And now I watch, from the window, the rain, the wandering buses.

Hay almas a las que uno tiene ganas de asomarse, como una ventana llena de sol.

I put my head out of my window and see how much the wind's knife wants to slice it off. On this unseen guillotine, I've placed the eyeless head of all my desires.

The anger. The terror. The feeling of entrapment. the profound distrust of people.The wistful, plaintive conviction that a window, a thing, was more important than she. These feelings and attitudes, expressed in the course of this hour, were symptoms of some profound disturbance.

Doing my homework one day, in the little box room in Cedarwood Road, I looked out the window as Guck Pants went by on a unicycle. Playing the trumpet.