Quotes About Window

She's getting these records from some kid down the block. I've seen him around a few times on the street barefoot and shirtless but with a big hairbrush sticking out of his gym shorts. He's not going anyplace barefoot so what does he need with a hairbrush? He's just begging to step on a nail or on some of the broken glass I've set outside Dawn's window and I can't wait until he does.

Cuando llegara el día en que necesitara ayuda para hacerlo, abriría la ventana y acabaría con el cuento.

Fat flakes of snow fell like silent, feathery ghosts in the windless sub-arctic night beyond the window.

At dawn, a ray of sunlight slanted from the steeple of St. Antoine's church, glanced off a window on Grant Street and finally alighted on a beer can lying in the middle of the pavement.

A wilted breeze slipped in through the open window and riffled the leaves of the Varga calendar and the brunette in the red bathing suit wiggled her hips at me. She was wasting her time.

In the winter everyones hate was bare if you looked. She saw hate in the icicles that hung from her window; she saw it in the dirty slush on the streets; she heard it in the hail that scratched her window and bit her face; she could see it in the lowered heads hurrying to warm homes …

The principle on the Belief Window has to change first or the behavior will never change.

And then she saw it. Like one of the angels of the Panegyrist Creation Song, it fell from the clouds, a thing all black and silver. And dreadfully familiar. Courtney Hall watched it fall from the clouds and ram itself through the window of level 33/Red/16 Kilimanjaro West.

she tried instead to summon up the sixteen-o'clock dream. Something flying. Dashing, darting, weaving between the concrete behemoths of the arcologies and co-habs … she closed her eyes, tried to persuade her imagination into creating a flying something that might complete her fragment of a dream. And the window wall of her thirty-third-level apartment exploded.

The eyes show the soul and they are the hardest to conceal.

Our life is just a bird, which flies into illuminated window, and then flies away, again, into the darkness

La scelta di chiudersi in casa sbarrando le finestre per non vedere, abbandonando ogni cura per la cosa pubblica è rimasta del resto fino ai nostri giorni, in particolare in quelle regioni meridionali diventate preda della criminalità.

He jumped in the bed and I closed the tailgate twice because, of course, the first time it didn't line up. Vic rolled down the driver's-side window of my truck. "You're going to be all right up here playing cowboy with the Indians?

My exit from the window is a little like a foal being born. It's a graceless and gangly drop, directly onto my mother's gerbera bed. I emerge quickly and pretend it didn't hurt.

Even half a chance beats none.

There was dust everywhere: dust on the cracked and rheumy window; dust over the drugget that made shift as Mr. Guyle's carpet; dust on the framed portraits of my lords Eldon, Coke and other luminaries that hung on the wall; and dust, it may be presumed, in the ventricles of Mr. Guyle's ancient legal heart.

Bobby spotted the black cat lying on a windowsill, sunning itself. They both walked over to it. Bobby tentatively reached out and rubbed his hands across the cat's belly. The cat purred. "Nice," the cat said dreamily. Bobby whipped his hand back.

How careful she always was with books: they had been her companions, her entertainment, and her only window to the outside world.

Oh, my God, this amazing cool breeze is coming through my window and the sun is shining. I'm happy.

It's just time: the book I read, the letter I write, the window I look out of. Just a sleeve I keep trying to mend, the spool diminishing. Just my one hand writing words, my other hand weighing the silences between them. — Li-Young Lee, from "Cloudy Mirror: A Forward," The Winged Seed: A Remembrance (Simon & Schuster, 1995)

I had discovered that the plainest house can crown a fantasy or daydream. An open window can be tolerated. So can an open door. But I discovered the value of four walls and a roof. Something about containment that at the same time offers escape.

Moon like a large stainedglass window that breaks on the ocean.

Felicia managed to stagger to her feet, open the front door, and limp haltingly to the white limousine idling on the snowy street outside the house. Murphy went to the window to watch Felicia get into the limo and depart. Yeah, I said, deadpan. The little blond woman has two of them.

Beards grow out so fast that if you shave every day, there isn't much of a window for anyone to use them against you—and shaved stubble is too diffuse to make a decent channel anyway.