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Window Quotes

“With their tinted windows up, the cars of the rich go like dark eggs down the roads of Delhi. Every now and then an egg will crack open a woman's hand, dazzling with gold bangles, stretches out an open window, flings an empty mineral water bottle onto the road and then the window goes up, and the egg is resealed.”

HandsWaterDarkRichCarWindowEmptyGoldEggsCracksBottlesNow And ThenMineralsFlingDazzlingDelhiWater BottlesBanglesMineral Water
Book:The White Tiger
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“I know with certainty, that [an honest man] is not to put his hand into the fire, and hold it there, till it be consumed: And thisevent, I think I can foretell with the same assurance, as that, if he throw himself out at the window, and meet with no obstruction, he will not remain a moment suspended in the air.”

IfsThinkingKnowsMenI CanMomentsHandsFireAirHonestWindowExperienceCertaintyAssuranceConsumedHonest ManSuspendedObstruction
Book:An Enquiry Concerning the Human Understanding: And An Enquiry Concerning the Principles of Morals
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“Your assumptions are your windows on the world. Scrub them off every once in a while or the light won't come in. If you challenge your own, you won't be so quick to accept the unchallenged assumptions of others. You'll be a lot less likely to be caught up in bias or prejudice or be influenced by people who ask you to hand over your brains, your soul or your money because they have everything all figured out for you.”

PeopleIfsWorldSoulHandsLightAsksChallengesBrainAcceptingWindowPrejudiceCaughtYour SoulAssumptionOver YouBiasCaught Up
Author:Alan Alda
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“He wanted head and hands and arms on a pillow - in many different positions. I was asked to move my hands in many different ways - also my head - and I had to turn this way and that. There were nudes that might have been of several different people - sitting - standing - even standing upon the radiator against the window - that was difficult - radiators don't intend you to stand on top of them. (On being photographed by Alfred Stieglitz)”

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Book:Georgia O'Keeffe: A Life
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“[The Weather Channel] is the most watched cable channel in America. I'll repeat that. It is the most watched cable channel in America. They were worried about the terrorists immobilizing us, and a portion of our countrymen watch weather. 'Kay, you don't get any more immobile than that... unless you're in a goddamn coma. That means you're saying, "I'd go to the window, but it's too far." If you want to know what the weather is you go to a window and stick your hand out and if you want to know what the temperature is you drive by a bank.”

IfsKnowsWantMeanHandsAmericaWatchesWindowSticksTerroristWeatherWorriedRepeatsPortionsTemperatureCablesCountrymenComa
Author:Lewis Black
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“In real life, my son had a little injury a couple of years ago where we had moved into a new house and he put his hand through a glass window and it cut him really badly. Thank god he had surgery and repaired everything, but I remember I felt frozen I was so scared, and then I realized I was holding my hand just because his hand was hurt.”

YearsLittlesRealHandsRememberHouseFeltHurtCuttingSonCoupleYears AgoWindowMovedGlassesScaredI RealizedReal LifeInjuryMy SonThank GodSurgeryFrozen
Author:Molly Shannon
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“Why I Wake Early Hello, sun in my face. Hello, you who made the morning and spread it over the fields and into the faces of the tulips and the nodding morning glories, and into the windows of, even, the miserable and the crotchety – best preacher that ever was, dear star, that just happens to be where you are in the universe to keep us from ever-darkness, to ease us with warm touching, to hold us in the great hands of light – good morning, good morning, good morning. Watch, now, how I start the day in happiness, in kindness.”

MadeHandsLightHappensFacesUniverseStarsWatchesKindnessMorningDarknessSunFieldsGloryWindowDearSpreadWarmMiserableEaseWhere You AreTouchingPreacherHelloStart The DayNoddingMorning Glory
Book:Why I Wake Early: New Poems
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“Mariam lay on the couch, hands tucked between her knees, watched the whirlpool of snow twisting and spinning outside the window. She remembered Nana saying once that each snowflake was a sigh heaved by an aggrieved woman somewhere in the world. That all the sighs drifted up the sky, gathered into clouds, then broke into tiny pieces that fell silently on the people below. As a reminder of how people like us suffer, she'd said. How quietly we endure all that falls upon us.”

PeopleWorldLifeSaidHandsSufferingFallPiecesSkyWindowLaysEndureCloudsTinySnowBrokeRememberedKneesSighRemindersSpinningCouchesSnowflakeWhirlpools
Book:The Complete Khaled Hosseini: Digital box set
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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.”

ThinkingFirstsLongDifferentDreamHandsSongGirlLeftSweetHairBattleSingingFirst TimeWindowGentlePianoApplesDifferent ThingsTransformedElectricityExplosionsDriftingShiverFingertipsLong HairBeside YouOld Song
Author:Tana French
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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.”

IfsSaidMomentsHandsEyeStepsLaughingCryStrangeBattleWindowInstinctWideHatsWarningAwkwardMistakenCoatsPreciseJaneCasualNinjaStrange PlacesBattle CryWide Eyes
Book:Austenland: A Novel
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“I watched the early morning light pass over and through the windows of colored glass, leaving streaks of red and green and yellow on the stone floor. When I was little, I used to try and capture the colored light. I thought I could hold it in my hand and carry it home. Now I know it is like happiness-- it is there or it is not, you cannot hold it or keep it.”

KnowsTryingLittlesHomeHandsLightUsedMorningRedStonesWindowGreenLeavingGlassesCaptureYellowStreaksEarly MorningMorning LightColored GlassRed And Green
Book:Catherine, Called Birdy
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“Lucas should've run out of there that instant. Instead he stared at me through the glass and slowly unfolded his hand opposite mine so that our hands were pressed againts the pane of glass, fingers to fingers, palm to palm. We each move closer, so that our faces were only inches apart. Even with the stained glass, window between us, it felt as intimate as any kiss we'd shared.”

ShouldHandsRunningFacesMovingFeltMinesKissingWindowOppositesFingersGlassesIntimateInstantInchesPalmsStained GlassStained Glass Windows
Author:Claudia Gray
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“The intense horror of nightmare came over me: I tried to draw back my arm, but the hand clung to it, and a most melancholy voice sobbed, 'Let me in - let me in!' 'Who are you?' I asked, struggling, meanwhile, to disengage myself. 'Catherine Linton,' it replied, shiveringly (why did I think of LINTON? I had read EARNSHAW twenty times for Linton) - 'I'm come home: I'd lost my way on the moor!' As it spoke, I discerned, obscurely, a child's face looking through the window.”

ThinkingWayChildrenHomeHandsFacesLostVoiceStruggleArmsHorrorDrawsWindowLet MeTwentiesIntenseMy WayNightmareSpokesMelancholyComing HomeMoorsLinton
Book:Wuthering Heights
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“It's like the smell of burned toast. You made the toast. You looked forward to it. You even enjoyed making it, but it burned. What were you doing? Was it your fault? It doesn't matter anymore. You open the window, but only the very top layer of the smell goes away. The rest remains around you. It's the walls. You leave the room, but it's on your clothes. You change your clothes, but it's in your hair. It's on the thin skin on the tops of your hand. And in the morning, it's still there.”

MadeStillsMatterHandsRoomsMorningHairWallClothesWindowSkinsRemainsFaultsSmellEnjoyedLayersBurnedToasts
Author:Elliot Perlman
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“But it is the knowledge of how contingent my unease is, how dependent on a baby that wails beneath my window one day and does not wail the next, that brings the worst shame to me, the greatest indifference to annihilation. I know somewhat too much; and from this knowledge, once one has been infected, there seems to be no recovering. I ought never to have taken my lantern to see what was going on in the hut by the granary. On the other hand, there was no way, once I had picked up the lantern, for me to put it down again. The knot loops in upon itself; I cannot find the end.”

KnowsWayDoeHas BeensEndsHandsSeemsNextTakenToo MuchWorstBabyOughtOne DayWindowShameIndifferenceDependentKnotsAnnihilationLoopsRecoveringHutsLanterns
Book:Waiting for the Barbarians: A Novel
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“One day a hummingbird flew in-- It fluttered against the window til I got it down where I could reach it with an open umbrella-- --When I had it in my hand it was so small I couldn't believe I had it--but I could feel the intense life--so intense and so tiny-- ...You were like the humming bird to me... And I am rather inclined to feel that you and I know the best part of one another without spending much time together-- --It is not that I fear the knowing-- It is that I am at this moment willing to let you be what you are to me--it is beautiful and pure and very intensely alive.”

KnowsFeelsBelieveMomentsHandsTogetherBeautifulKnowingAliveWillingOne DayPureBirdWindowSpendingTinyIntenseFlewUmbrellaTime TogetherHummingHummingbirds
Author:Georgia O'Keeffe
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“My name is Herondale," the boy said cheerfully. "William Herondale, but everyone calls me Will. Is this really your room? Not very nice, is it?" He wandered toward the window, pausing to examine the stacks of books on her bedside table, and then the bed itself. He waved a hand at the ropes. "Do you often sleep tied to the bed?”

SaidBookHandsNamesSleepRoomsBoysNiceBedWindowTablesCall MeTiedRopeVery NiceWill HerondaleYour RoomPausingWilliam Herondale
Book:Clockwork Angel
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“And indeed there will be time for the yellow smoke that slides along the street rubbing its back upon the window-panes; there will be time , there will be time to prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet; there will be time to murder and create, and time for all the works and days of hands that lift and drop a question on your plate; time for you and time for me, and time yet for a hundred indecisions, and for a hundred visions and revisions, before the taking of toast and tea.”

HandsFacesVisionStreetsHundredWindowMurderSmokeTeaLiftsYellowPlatesSlidesToastsIndecisionRevisionWindow Panes
Book:The Waste Land, Prufrock and Other Poems
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“Snowflakes swirl down gently in the deep blue haze beyond the window. The outside world is a dream. Inside, the fireplace is brightly lit, and the Yule log crackles with orange and crimson sparks. There’s a steaming mug in your hands, warming your fingers. There’s a friend seated across from you in the cozy chair, warming your heart. There is mystery unfolding.”

WorldHeartDreamHandsHealingMysteryWindowBlueFingersChristmasChairsWarmthSparksOrangeLitUnfoldingOutside WorldCozySnowflakeCrimsonHazeSwirlsMugFireplacesYule
Author:Vera Nazarian
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“Oh, Myr," he chokes out. "I hate having to ask this of you..." He glances towards the car again, and I crouch down in the shadows, hoping it's too dark for him to see whether the window is open or closed. The woman pats his arm, cradling her hand against his elbow. "You know I'd do anything for you and Hil," she says. I like her voice. It's throaty and rich. "You'd do anything?" my father repeats numbly. "Even now? After -?" "Even now," the woman says firmly.”

KnowsHandsHateAsksFatherVoiceDarkRichCarArmsShadowWindowI HateRepeatsGlancesChokeElbowsLike Her
Author:Margaret Haddix
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“But Anne with her elbows on the window sill, her soft cheek laid against her clasped hands, and her eyes filled with visions, looked out unheedingly across city roof and spire to that glorious dome of sunset sky and wove her dreams of a possible future from the golden tissue of youth's own optimism. All the Beyond was hers, with its possibilities lurking rosily in the oncoming years — each year a rose of promise to be woven into an immortal chaplet.”

YearsDreamHandsEyeCitiesVisionSkyPossibilityYouthPromiseWindowOptimismFilledRoseGoldenGloriousSunsetImmortalCheeksRoofHer EyesWovenTissuesElbowsLurkingDomesSpires
Book:Greatest Christmas Novels in One Volume: Life and Adventures of Santa Claus, Heidi, The Romance of a Christmas Card, The Little City of Hope, The Wonderful Life, Little Women, Anne of Green Gables, Little Lord Fauntleroy, Peter Pan…
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“Beckendorf closed eyes tight and brought his hand up to his watch. from that distance, the explosion shook the world. Heat seared the back of my head. The Princess Andromeda blew up from both sides, a massive fireball of green flame roiling into the dark sky, consuming everything....I stared out the window into deep blue water. Beckendorf was supposed to go to college in the fall. He had a girlfriend, lots of friends, his whole life ahead of him. He couldn't be gone.”

WorldWholeHandsEyeFallSidesWaterDarkWatchesGoneSkyCollegeWindowBlueGreenDistanceWhole LifeFlamesHeatGirlfriendMassivePrincessBoth SidesExplosionsConsumingLots Of FriendsHands UpClosed EyesAndromedaDark SkyBlue Water
Author:Rick Riordan
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“On the other hand, she never looked as -big- as she did at that moment. "What?" Rose demanded, glaring up at him. The warning signal flashed bright red in Kane's head. Telling a woman she was as big as a beach ball wouldn't win any points. How did one describe how she looked? A basketball? Volleyball? He studied her furious little face. Yeah. He was in big trouble no matter what he said. Description was out of the question. He needed diplomacy, something that flew out of the window when he was near her and she said the words like contractions.”

LittlesSaidMatterMomentsHandsBigsFacesWinningTroubleNeededBasketballRedWindowBallsNo Matter WhatYeahRoseBeachDescriptionThat MomentWarningSignalsDiplomacyFlewVolleyballFuriousContractions
Author:Christine Feehan
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“She lost much of her appetite. At night, an invisible hand kept shaking her awake every few hours. Grief was physiological, a disturbance of the blood. Sometimes a whole minute would pass in nameless dread - the bedside clock ticking, the blue moonlight coating the window like glue - before she`d remember the brutal fact that had caused it.”

SometimesWholeFactsHandsRememberNightLostHoursGriefBloodMinutesWindowBlueInvisibleClockAwakeAppetiteDreadBrutalMoonlightShakingGlueDisturbanceNamelessPhysiologicalInvisible HandClock Ticking
Book:The Marriage Plot: A Novel
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“I have made calculations that would beggar your soul. What is it that villains always say at the end of stories? You and I are more alike than you think? Well,” the Marquess took September’s hand in hers and very gently kissed it. “We are. Oh, how alike we are! I feel very warmly towards you, and I only want to protect you, as I wish someone had protected me. Come, September, look out the window with me. It’s not a difficult thing. A show of faith, let’s call it.”

ThinkingWantFeelsWellsLooksMadeSoulEndsStoriesShowsHandsWishDifficultProtectWindowYour SoulVillainProtectedSeptemberBeggarDifficult ThingsCalculationsProtect You
Book:The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland in a Ship of Her Own Making
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