Quotes About Room

But it was futile. Half a dozen hoses under full pressure would have been required to make an impact on the blaze enveloping the writing room. Even if fire crews had brought hoses to bear on the flames, it would have made little difference: the engine room was unable to provide sustained pressure because of the closed boiler.

The essential task for a defenseman in his own end is to not allow an offensive player room to create, and to force that player into doing things he doesn't want to do with the puck.

and harmony between partnerships and friends. And the key to harmony is to make room for change in your life. It's this

Manifestation begins with the willingness to make room in our beliefs for something that supposedly doesn't exist. We create that "something" through the force of consciousness and awareness.

A taped recording of a psychiatric interview played, and Allander's voice resonated through the room.

I find television very educational. Every time someone switches it on I go into another room and read a good book.

Even if I were to succeed in forcing my way into that locked 'room', would that not just mean I would once again fall prey to the ghosts that have been locked away in it?

I have not let myself be stultified by science, whose highest goal is to furnish a `waiting room', which it would be best to tear down.

In the dark room a cloud of yellow dust flew from beneath the tool like a scatter of sparks from under the hooves of a galloping horse. The twin wheels turned and hummed. Binet was smiling, his chin down, his nostrils distended. He seemed lost in the kind of happiness which, as a rule, accompanies only those mediocre occupations that tickle the intelligence with easy difficulties, and satisfy it with a sense of achievement beyond which there is nothing left for dreams to feed on.

He found himself taking note of the trappings of this, the king's most private room. [...] the etched windows over the garden, the gilt-edged mirror on the opposite wall, the intricately woven carpets . . . In a way, Mazur ben Avren thought, all these delicate things were bulwarks, the innermost defenses of civilized man against the rain and dark, and ignorance.

And, right or wrong, rational or absurd, Oscar Wilde is always fascinating. He is the man you hope will walk into the room and come to sit at the spare place at your table.

Reading is not as insignificant as we claim. First we must steal the key to the library. Reading is a provocation, a rebellion: we open the book's door, pretending it is a simple paperback cover, and in broad daylight escape! We are no longer there: this is what real reading is. If we haven't left the room, if we haven't gone over the wall, we're not reading.

I thought afresh that a nice cat washing his face by the hearth gave extra comfort to a room

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.

Time has branded them and fettered they are lodged in the room of the infinite possibilities they have ousted.

Her companionship was like a warm soil about an exotic. Many times she allowed the dark to fall upon them, refraining from lighting the lamp. The dark discreet room, their isolation, the music that still vibrated in their ears united them.

Groangrousegurgling Toft's cumbersome whirligig turns slowly the room right roundabout the room.)

In the early '70s, the nation was afflicted with incurable pattern viruses - small microbes that reproduced and multiplied from a single swatch left on a sofa, and soon covered an entire room.

I feel like I'm going to HURL. Which, even if I wanted to do, I couldn't do, because I haven't eaten. I can't even drag myself out of my room. And while I'd be able to muster the strength to roundhouse Fang until he begged for MERCY, I'de be mush around an Eraser.

I want my room to smell just like this. Iggy inhaled deeply as the scents flame-broiled burgers and hot french fries wafted around us. 'it would be an improvement.' I agreed.

IN A CONFERENCE ROOM on the twelfth floor of One Police Plaza, I met Detective Beth Peters face-to-face for the first time, by the coffee cups.

An air-filter machine runs in Maddie's room, 24/7/365.

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

to unpack until something much more interesting—"Does reality really exist?"—had crossed her mind. "I have Coke," she said. "But it's warm. Room temperature." "Twenty-four degrees Celsius," said Siobhan. "Seventy-five Fahrenheit," said Max. "Well, it would take about twenty minutes to chill it to the proper drinking temperature in a freezer," said Siobhan. "If you put