Quotes About Window

He looked out of the window to think, because without a window he couldn't think. Or Maybe it was the other way round: where there was a window, he automatically started to think. Then he wrote, 'When I grow up, I am going to be happy.

Stephen jerked his thumb towards the window, saying: — That is God. Hooray! Ay! Whrrwhee! — What? Mr Deasy asked. — A shout in the street, Stephen answered, shrugging his shoulders.

Dust webbed the window and the showtrays. Dust darkened the toiling fingers with their vulture nails. Dust slept on dull coils of bronze and silver, lozenges of cinnabar, on rubies, leprous and winedark stones.

The sad quiet grey-blue glow of the dying day came through the window and the open door, covering over and allaying quietly a sudden instinct of remorse in Stephen's heart.

Lean out of the window, Goldenhair, I hear you singing A merry air. My book was closed, I read no more, Watching the fire dance On the floor. I have left my book, I have left my room, For I heard you singing Through the gloom. Singing and singing A merry air, Lean out of the window, Goldenhair.

There was cold sunlight outside the window.

Stivenas staiga d?r? nykš?iu ? lango pus? tardamas: -Štai Dievas. -K?? - paklaus? misteris Dyzis. -Šauksmas gatv?je, - g?žtel?j?s pe?iais atsak? Stivenas.

Every night as I gazed up at the window I said softly to myself the word paralysis.

He popped his head in and out of the window every moment to the great danger of his hat, and told his mother how the discussion was progressing

Oswald waited by the window. Whenever his eyes searched Houston Street for the first signs of the motorcade, he was careful not to hold the rifle high in his hands. Someone on the ground might see him and warn the authorities.

darted in first, my pistol up. Lori came in behind me. I scanned the shitty little apartment quickly. Bedroom, bathroom, nothing. The window was open, and I muttered "Shit" as I wedged myself onto the fire-escape landing. It was a long way down. Cops with a thing about heights shouldn't climb around on fire escapes. But there was no choice.

Cain reopened the curtains and lifted the window. The hot, humid air poured into the room, reminding him of home in Louisiana

She just threatened to throw the next man who shoots at you out the window. Megan is awake. She offered to help. God, Trent, what is it with you and women?

The eye is the casement at which the heart generally looks out. Many a woman who will not show herself at the door, has tipt the sly, the intelligible wink from the window.

The window of her sadness was so vast that it almost opened a path to her soul.

That night your great guns, unawares,Shook all our coffins as we lay,And broke the chancel window-squares,We thought it was the Judgment Day.

I remember, I rememberThe house where I was born,The little window where the sunCame peeping in at morn.

I went to the little window and inhaled the country air. One could hear the breathing of the night, feminine, enormous. (The Blue Bouquet)

I went to the little window and inhaled the country air. One could hear the breathing of the night, feminine, enormous.

In my window night invents another night

He sat by a gray window in the gray light in an abandoned house in the late afternoon and read old newspapers while the boy slept. The curious news. The quaint concerns.

She went to the window and looked out. The ground fell away to a branch where willows burned lime green in the sunset. Dark little birds kept crossing the fields to the west like heralds of some coming dread. Below the branch stood the frame of an outhouse from which the planks had been stripped for firewood and there hung from the ceiling a hornetnest like a gross paper egg. The tinker returned from the cart with a lantern

The room smelled of old cigarsmoke. He leaned and turned off the little brass lamp and sat in the dark. Through the front window he could see the starlit prairie falling away to the north. The black crosses of the old telegraph poles yoked across the constellations passing east to west.

The fairy had flown over to the window and was peering curiously out at the alley. Forget it. Stay here, said Dustfinger. Please. Believe me, it's no place for you out there. She looked at him quizzically, then folded her wings and knelt on the windowsill. And there she stayed, as if she coudln't decide between the hot room and the strange freedom to be found outside.