Quotes About Window

In the corner shop, or, rather, in its window, a purveyor of hot spiced honey drinks had installed himself, with a samovar of red copper and a face just as red as the samovar, so that from a distance you might think that there were two samovars standing in the window, if one samovar hadn't been wearing a beard black as pitch.

It was like a flash of lightning amidst the dark of night, when for some reason you suddenly see an extraordinary multitude of things at once: the bed canopy, the folding screen, the window, the canary fluttering on its perch, and a glass with a silver spoon in it and spots of magnesium on its handle. It is probably the quality of fear to have big eyes.

hears the apartment door close, then the sound of her heels on the staircase. He stands staring at the house on television. Bill Cunningham, looking energized, says: "—movement in an upstairs window

I look out the window and I see the lights and the skyline and the people on the street rushing around looking for action, love, and the world's greatest chocolate chip cookie, and my heart does a little dance.

The tip of his penis rises like a vector, pointing out the window, toward the world.

looked out of the window. Dawn was breaking, and idle snowflakes were gradually starting to fill the nothingness. They were falling slowly, weaving their way through the air and spinning on their own axis like feathers.

Just outside the apartment window was a kite caught in the telegraph wires; blown about and ripped by the dusty spring wind, it nevertheless clung tenaciously to the wires, as if in affirmation of something. Every time I looked at the kite I had to smile with embarrassment and blush. It haunted me even in dreams.

Today is Thanksgiving, and an icicle breeze nips at your window and whips up the leaves. Ah, what a morning! The cold autumn haze brings visions of Pilgrims and Indians…and maize! So wrap in a blanket and don your warm socks and pretend you're descending an old Plymouth rock.

Opportunity only gives you knockers once.

Through the frost-covered glass, he could just make out a woman's face. She rolled down the window. "Jack West?" He found himself looking into a pair of familiar green eyes. Her dark hair was longer than the last time he'd seen her, and there were lines of weariness on her face. Still, he recognized her immediately. "Well, hello, there, SA Killeen. It seems you've run into a little trouble.

A second floor window opened, and Kyle stuck his head and shoulders out so he could look down at us. "If you two are finished playing Cowboy and Indian out there, some of us would like to get their beauty sleep." I looked at Warren. "You heard 'um Kemo Sabe. Me go to my little wigwam and get 'um shut-eye." "How come you always get to play the Indian?" whined Warren, deadpan. "Cause she's the Indian, white boy," said Kyle.

On the last morning of Virginia's bloodiest year since the Civil War, I built a fire and sat facing a window of darkness where at sunrise I knew I would find the sea.

That's a nice car you have," said Aunt Lou, looking out the window. "Would you like a ride?" asked Dr. Sam. "I would," said Aunt Lou. "Don't, under any circumstances, let her drive," Grandfather whispered to Dr. Sam.

The window over the sink drew her attention. Above it, a bare plank fixed by

sound of snipping growing softer outside the window, Leo

Vale, cabezón y pececitos, hagamos un trato. Yo no os miraré por esa ventana tan aterradora si vosotros no me miráis mientras trabajo. ¿Hecho? Bien.

She sits by her window. She sips at her tea. She waits for her love, To return from the sea. Her suitors come calling. She watches the tides, And all the while Violet bides.

There were days, rainy gray days, when the streets of Brooklyn were worthy of a photograph, every window the lens of a Leica, the view grainy and immobile.

paradox? It is that we can be a child sitting on a window ledge knowing everything and we can be the universe knowing the child at the same time.

Her expression was pleasant, but a trifle crafty, like Me Wolf at the window of the Three Pigs' house, asking to be let in.

So I park in the shade and crack the window to give her plenty of fresh air.

Arabella dangled her legs out of the bedroom window and closed her eyes. She felt a butterfly brush against her knee, rubbed her skin against the mortar and bricks, drank in the warmth of the morning sunshine on her face, her arms, her feet.

Oh...I remember you...You're that weird cat-eared cosplay-kid! You called me a cospl... How'd you get all the way up to the third-floor window... Because I'm a cat.

Then Rahab let them down by a rope through the window, since the house where she lived was built into the wall of the city.