Quotes About Window

When Wealth walks in at the Door, the Press Agent comes in through the Window.

Marriage is an alliance entered into by a man who can't sleep with the window shut, and a woman who can't sleep with the window open.

Faith goes out through the window when beauty comes in at the door.

Ghastek stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, sipping coffee from a white mug that read, Graveyard Shift: We do it in the dark.

She has a fixation on love. Strong trouble. The girl left her window open one clear night and it crawled into her body while she was asleep. There's no spell can cure it.

One morning, a real estate developer named Robert Maguire came for a meeting at the ARCO offices. He stood by a window and looked down on the library and the shambles it was becoming. At that moment, he made a decision to do what he could to fix it.

But there he was last night, standing on the stoop, yelling up at my window to let him inside. I let him in.

Blood like raindrops on the window.

Peeta. Blut wie Regentropfen am Fenster. Wie feuchte Erde an den Stiefeln.

THE AIR IN THE ROOM TASTES STERILE. THE LINGERING scent of bleach is mixing with the fresh white paint on the walls, and I wish my teacher would open the window to let in a breeze. But we're on the third floor so the pane is sealed shut—just in case anyone gets the urge to jump. I

What are you staring at?""Rain drops on window glass is a sort of love-bite, is it not?

Given that the window used for the calculation of patient survival is five years

I want to keep sleeping, but the sun outside my window has other ideas: First blind her. Then jab her eyeballs with scorching-hot daggers.

The child probably overheard their voices; for, looking up to the window, with a bright, but naughty smile of mirth and intelligence, she threw one of the prickly burrs at the Reverend Mr. Dimmesdale. The sensitive clergyman shrunk, with nervous dread, from the light missile.

That Jim Crow there in the window, answered the urchin, holding out a cent, and pointing to the gingerbread figure that had attracted his notice, as he loitered along to school; the one that has not a broken foot.

just as there comes a warm sunbeam into every cottage window, so comes a lovebeam of God's care and pity for every separate need.

W)hen something drastic happens, there's a lag time. It's not quite denial, and not quite shock, but more like a mental free fall. You're spending so much time wrapping your mind around the problem, you don't realize what you need to do until the window to do it has closed.

I will always be there on the horizon,' I tell her. And with infinite sorrow, she says, 'I believe that. But sadly I am no longer looking out of that window.

I love Wagner, but the music I prefer is that of a cat hung up by its tail outside a window and trying to stick to the panes of glass with its claws.

Life is a hospital in which every patient is possessed by the desire of changing his bed. One would prefer to suffer near the fire, and another is certain he would get well if he were by the window.

In the evening streamed down the radiant sun, That great eye which stares from the inquisitive sky. From behind the window that scattered its bright rays It seemed to gaze upon our long, quiet dinners, Spreading wide its candle-like reflections On the frugal table-cloth and the serge curtains.

there is always that space there just before they get to us that space that fine relaxer the breather while say flopping on a bed thinking of nothing or say pouring a glass of water from the spigot while entranced by nothing that gentle pure space it's worth centuries of existence say just to scratch your neck while looking out the window at a bare branch that space there before they get to us ensures that when they do they won't get it all ever. --It's Ours

Also, he always stopped before the music and piano store. It was a splendid store. And in the window was a small white dog upon his haunches, with head cocked gravely to one side, a small white dog that never moved, that never barked, that listened attentively at the flaring funnel of a horn to hear His Master's Voice -a horn forever silent, and a voice that never spoke.

Perhaps it frightens you as you walk by, the travail of the trees against the dark crouched house, the weak tipsy light in the window, the man sitting on the porch, menacing weariness riding his flesh like despair.