Quotes About Rooftops

Old Prague was a story-book city caked in grime: ancient, soot-blackened. History lived in every detail: in the deerstalker rooftops and the blue-sparking trams. He wandered the streets in disbelief, photographing everything, images from Kafka crowding into his head. With the turn of every corner it came back to him: the special frisson you get behind enemy lines.

Sopra i tetti delle case si vedevano striscioni di nubi, sfregati e pestati dal vento, che, lassù, doveva soffiare libero come aveva soffiato al principio del mondo.

Mom said, His spirit is there, and that made me really angry. I told her, Dad didn't have a spirit! He had cells! His memory is there. His memory is here, I said, pointing at my head. Dad had a spirit, she said, like she was rewinding a bit in our conversation. I told her, He had cells, and now they're on rooftops, and in the river, and in the lungs of millions of people around New York, who breathe him every time they speak!

En la ventana estaban los tejados de siempre y el sol nublado de las seis. Me pareció increíble que ese día sin premoniciones ni símbolos fuera el de mi muerte implacable.

The sun showed like a scimitar at the edge of the rooftops.

In the Middle East in the summertime, to keep cool, a lot of people sleep on the rooftops.

As we rose over the rooftops I caught my breath-well, if you can catch your breath underwater.

I sailed on the cold air currents above the rooftops of Paris. I could see the river, the Louvre Museum, the gardens and palaces. And a mouse-yum. Hang on, Carter, I thought. not hunting mice.

The secrets a house is desperate to conceal will, sooner or later, be shouted from the rooftops.

Names called out across the water, names I called you behind your back, sour and delicious, secret and unrepeatable, the names of flowers that open only once, shouted from balconies, shouted from rooftops, or muffled by pillows, or whispered in sleep, or caught in the throat like a lump of meat.

She gazed up at the buildings and imagined angels perched on the edge of the roofs; tall slender angels with drooping wings; standing in perfect silence, watching her without expectation as if in an eternal dream: We give you the city. No one is watching. Set yourself free.

Bu kentin ne çat?lar?n? ???ldatan aylar? sayabilirsin, Ne de duvarlar?n?n gerisine gizlenen bin muhteÅŸem güneÅŸi.

Não se podem contar as luas que brilham sobre os seus telhados, nem os mil sóis resplandecentes que se escondem por trás dos seus muros

Nici c-ai putea sa socotesti acele luni ce-i stralucesc/pe acoperisuri/Sau miile de sori splendizi ce i se ascund pe dupa ziduri./

Mat sacudió con asombro la cabeza. «¿Cuánta gente hay en los tejados esta noche?» Sólo faltaba que se presentara Thom y se pusiera a tocar el arpa, o alguien preguntando las señas de una posada.

In one extremely satisfactory dream I was the rain and fell with merry violence on streets and asphalt rooftops...

He felt persistently that the girl was beautiful – then of a sudden he understood: it was her distance, not a rare and precious distance of soul but still distance, if only in terrestrial yards. The autumn air was between them, and the roofs and the blurred voices. Yet for a not altogether explained second, posing perversely in time, his emotion had been nearer to adoration than in the deepest kiss he had ever known.

I'm ignorant, like these rooftops. I've failed, like all of nature.

Over the diversely high rooftops the light lets its hands slip away until, in the unity of those same rooftops, the inner shadow of everything emerges.

To romp along the connected rooftops and fire escapes of Chicago's second city of garages was my young life's passion.

It was joy, joy, happy joy. Happy, happy joy. A big fat smiley sun rose above the rooftops and beamed down its blessings onto the borough known as Brentford.

There seemed to be handfuls of stars tossed right above the rooftops in Haddan, keeping the town still alight at midnight.

Even Asmodeus, that limping devil who looked through rooftops at men's most secret actions, could not have told which of these thoughts masked an undercurrent of joy -- the joy of the man who know that he has killed wisely and well.

The fires pool and strut; they flow up the sides of the ramparts like tides; they splash into alleys, over rooftops, through a carpark. Smoke chases dust; ash chases smoke. A newsstand floats, burning.