Window Quotes - Page 19

• Maybe there are moments between any two adults in love when the age of one of them dissolves before the other's eyes, when the first refuge of the soul at its creation is laid bare and skinless as a sunbeam through a window. Innocence and vulnerability, two unmeasurable quantities...Perhaps that is the essence of the protection's intimacy, that it dwells in camouflage and justifies itself in stillness.

  Marianne Wiggins

  Eye, Essence, Two

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• Are the angels of her bed the angels who come near me alone in mine? Are the green trees in her window the color is see in ripe plums? If she always sees backward and upside down without knowing it what chance do we have? I am haunted by the feeling that she is saying melting lords of death, avalanches, rivers and moments of passing through, And I am replying, "Yes, yes. Shoes and pudding.

  Jack Gilbert

  Angel, Color, Shoes

  Jack Gilbert (2012). “Collected Poems”, p.218, Knopf

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• She stood at the window, her arms spread wide, holding on to each side of the frame, it was as if she held a piece of the city.

  Ayn Rand

  Cities, Pieces, Arms

  Ayn Rand (2005). “The Fountainhead”, p.232, Penguin

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• Because we would not wear any clothes because it was so hot and the windows open and the swallows flying over the roofs of the houses and when it was dark afterward and you went to the window very small bats hunting over the houses and close down over the trees and we would drink capri and the door locked and it hot and only a sheet and the whole night and we would both love each other all night in the hot night in Milan. That was how it ought to be.

  Ernest Hemingway

  Dark, Night, Hunting

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• She's quite skinny, like me, but nice skinny. Roller-skate skinny. I watched her once from the window when she was crossing over Fifth Avenue to go to the park, and that's what she is, roller-skate skinny. You'd like her.

  J. D. Salinger

  Nice, Fifth Avenue, Parks

  J. D. SALINGER (1951). “THE CATCHER IN THE RYE”

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• Yossarian was cold, too, and shivering uncontrollably. He felt goose pimples clacking all over him as he gazed down despondently at the grim secret Snowden had spilled all over the messy floor. It was easy to read the message in his entrails. Man was matter, that was Snowden's secret. Drop him out a window and he'll fall. Set fire to him and he'll burn. Bury him and he'll rot, like other kinds of garbage. The spirit gone, man is garbage. That was Snowden's secret. Ripeness was all. I'm cold,' Snowden said. 'I'm cold.

  Joseph Heller

  Fall, Men, Fire

  Joseph Heller (1999). “Catch-22: A Novel”, p.404, Simon and Schuster

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• The girls I dream of are the gentle ones, wistful by high windows or singing sweet old songs at a piano, long hair drifting, tender as apple blossom. But a girl who goes into battle beside you and keeps your back is a different thing, a thing to make you shiver. Think of the first time you slept with someone, or the first time you fell in love: that blinding explosion that left you cracking to the fingertips with electricity, initiated and transformed. I tell you that was nothing, nothing at all, beside the power of putting your lives, simply and daily, into each other's hands.

  Tana French

  Girl, Dream, Song

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• I travel in gardens and bedrooms, basements and attics, around corners, through doorways and windows, along sidewalks, over carpets, down drainpipes, in the sky, with friends, lovers, children and heros; perceived, remembered, imagined, distorted and clarified.

  Tom Robbins

  Children, Hero, Garden

  Tom Robbins (2003). “Another Roadside Attraction”, p.30, Bantam

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• It's one of those places that are supposed to be very sophisticated and all, and the phonies are coming in the window.

  J. D. Salinger

  Sophisticated, Phony, Supposed To Be

  J. D. SALINGER (1951). “THE CATCHER IN THE RYE”

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• When we pulled out into the winter night and the real snow, our snow, began to stretch out beside us and twinkle against the windows, and the dim lights of small Wisconsin stations moved by, a sharp wild brace came suddenly into the air. That's my middle-west - not the wheat or the prairies or the lost Swede towns, but the thrilling returning trains of my youth and the street lamps and sleigh bells in the frosty dark and the shadows of holly wreaths thrown by lighted windows on the snow.

  F. Scott Fitzgerald

  Real, Dark, Winter

  F. Scott Fitzgerald (2013). “The Great Gatsby: The Authentic Edition from Fitzgerald’s Original Publisher: The authentic edition from Fitzgerald’s original publisher”, p.138, Simon and Schuster

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• What are you doing?" "Ya!" said Jane, whirling around, her hands held up menacingly. It was Mr. Nobley with coat, hat, and cane, watching her with wide eyes. Jane took several quick (but oh so casual) steps away from Martin's window. "Um, did I just say, 'Ya'?" "You just said 'Ya,'" he confirmed. "If I am not mistaken, it was a battle cry, warning that you were about to attack me. I, uh..." She stopped to laugh. "I wasn't aware until this precise and awkward moment that when startled in a startled in a strange place, my instincts would have me pretend to be a ninja.

  Shannon Hale

  Eye, Hands, Strange Places

  Shannon Hale (2013). “Austenland: A Novel”, p.81, A&C Black

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• ...The girl raised her eyes to see who was passing by the window, and that casual glance was the beginning of a cataclysm of love that still had not ended half a century later.

  Gabriel Garcia Marquez

  Romantic, Girl, Eye

  "Love in the Time of Cholera". Book by Gabriel García Márquez, www.elle.com. 1985.

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• I had been hungry all the years- My noon had come, to dine- I, trembling, drew the table near And touched the curious wine. 'Twas this on tables I had seen When turning, hungry, lone, I looked in windows, for the wealth I could not hope to own. I did not know the ample bread, 'Twas so unlike the crumb The birds and I had often shared In Nature's diningroom. The plenty hurt me, 'twas so new,-- Myself felt ill and odd, As berry of a mountain bush Transplanted to the road. Nor was I hungry; so I found That hunger was a way Of persons outside windows, The entering takes away.

  Emily Dickinson

  Hurt, Wine, Years

  Emily Dickinson, “I Had Been Hungry All The Years”

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• Careful with the accusations of insanity, oh my lady whose home is a tower with windows of brick, all for the sake of some skinny-ankled, laugh-prone boy of a khan.

  Shannon Hale

  Home, Boys, Laughing

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• There was nothing separate about her days. Like drops on the window-pane, they ran together and trickled away.

  Dorothy Parker

  Window Panes, Together, Ran

  Dorothy Parker (1942). “The collected stories of Dorothy Parker”

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• Jumping out a window five hundred feet above ground is not usually my idea of fun. Especially when I'm wearing bronze wings and flapping my arms like a duck.

  Rick Riordan

  Fun, Jumping, Wings

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• The apartment was built at the edge of a high cliff so that when you looked out the back window it seemed as if you were twelve floors up instead of four. It was very much like living on the edge of the world - a last resting place before the final big drop.

  Charles Bukowski

  Twelve, Finals, World

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• What if there's a fire?" Glenna said sweetly, and Cian merely smiled. "Then I guess you'd better open a window, and fly.

  Nora Roberts

  Fire, What If, Said

  Nora Roberts (2006). “Morrigan's Cross”, p.69, Penguin

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• I lay there, stretched out, looking at the one star visible through the tiny window of the room. Only connect. How can you do that when the connections are broken?

  Jeanette Winterson

  Stars, Broken, Connections

  Jeanette Winterson (2006). “Lighthousekeeping”, p.116, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

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• We ask only to be reassured About the noises in the cellar And the window that should not have been open

  T. S. Eliot

  Noise, Should, Cellars

  T.S. Eliot (2011). “The Complete Poems and Plays of T. S. Eliot”, p.285, Faber & Faber

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• These loaves, pigeons, and two little boys seemed unearthly. It all happened at the same time: a little boy ran over to a pigeon, glancing over at Levin with a smile; the pigeon flapped its wings and fluttered, gleaming in the sunshine among the snowdust quivering in the air, while the smell of freshly baked bread was wafted out of a little window as the loaves were put out. All this together was so extraordinarily wonderful that Levin burst out laughing and crying for joy.

  Leo Tolstoy

  Sunshine, Boys, Air

  Leo Tolstoy (graf) (1978). “Anna Karenina”

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• If it's us", she whispered, "how come you get to decide?" When he didn't answer - couldn't answer - she turned and stared out the front window. As it turned out, they were still in the parking lot. They hadn't gotten anywhere at all.

  Jodi Picoult

  Answers, Parking, Stills

  Jodi Picoult (2012). “The Jodi Picoult Collection #3: Vanishing Acts, The Tenth Circle, and Nineteen Minutes”, p.480, Simon and Schuster

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• Walks are never as good during the day. At night, when everyone's apartments are lit up and you can see inside, that's where the action is. Everything about this fascinates me. Windows, lampposts, building facades. Looking into other people's lives. The way it all comes together, this entity greater than the sum of its parts. I feel inspired. I'm excited about my future life.

  Susane Colasanti

  Night, People, Together

  Susane Colasanti (2009). “Take Me There”, p.100, Penguin

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• Love's easy to learn. It's like taking a risk. You set your mind on it and refuse to be afraid, and in no time you feel terrifically exhilarated and all your inhibitions fly out of the window.

  Dick Francis

  Risk, Mind, Easy

  Dick Francis (1969). “Three to show: a trilogy”, Harpercollins

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• Here in my heart, my happiness, my house. Here inside the lighted window is my love, my hope, my life. Peace is my companion on the pathway winding to the threshold. Inside this portal dwells new strength in the security, serenity, and radiance of those I love above life itself. Here two will build new dreams--dreams that tomorrow will come true. The world over, these are the thoughts at eventide when footsteps turn ever homeward. In the haven of the hearthside is rest and peace and comfort.

  Abraham Lincoln

  Dream, Heart, Two

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