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Window Quotes

“Night, like a giant, fills the church, from pavement to roof, and holds dominion through the silent hours. Pale dawn again comes peeping through the windows: and, giving place to day, sees night withdraw into the vaults, and follows it, and drives it out, and hides among the dead.”

GivingNightHoursChurchWindowSilentDawnGiantsPaleRoofDominionSpookyPavementVaultsPeeping
Book:Works of Charles Dickens: Dombey and son
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“They don't make poles long enough for me want to touch Microsoft products, and I don't want any mass-marketed game-playing device or Windows appliance near my desk or on my network. This is my workbench, dammit, it's not a pretty box to impress people with graphics and sounds. When I work at this system up to 12 hours a day, I'm profoundly uninterested in what user interface a novice user would prefer.”

PeopleWantLongEnoughGamesSoundHoursProductsMassWindowBoxesDevicesUsersDesksImpressMicrosoftInterfacesAppliancesNovicesUninterestedUser Interface
Author:Erik Naggum
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“I was sickly as a child and gravitated to books and drawing. During my early teen years, I spent hundreds of hours at my window, sketching neighborhood children at play. I sketched and listened, and those notebooks became the fertile field of my work later on. There is not a book I have written or a picture I have drawn that does not, in some way, owe them its existence.”

WayYearsChildrenDoeBookPlayHoursExistenceWrittenFieldsWindowDrawingNeighborhoodNotebookFertileSketching
Author:Maurice Sendak
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“Mr. Tulkinghorn, sitting in the twilight by the open window, enjoys his wine. As if it whispered to him of its fifty years of silence and seclusion, it shuts him up the closer. More impenetrable than ever, he sits, and drinks, and mellows as it were in secrecy, pondering at that twilight hour on all the mysteries he knows.”

IfsKnowsYearsCharacterEnjoyHoursInterestingSilenceMysteryDrinkSittingWindowWineFiftyTwilightSecrecyPonderingInteresting CharactersSeclusion
Book:Bleak House ... With frontispiece by H. K. Browne
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“I like to put my iPad on the window and leave it there for however long the journey is, so that I'm staring out, and it's staring out. We're kind of staring out together. It's very poetic to me, watching that absent-minded passing of time. You realize how much you've taken in. What is left of that memory of you staring out of the window for an hour? It's all on the iPad.”

KindLongTogetherLeftRealizingHoursMemoriesTakenJourneyWindowPassingPassingsStaringPoeticAbsentIpadsAbsent Minded
Author:Damon Albarn
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“If you have nothing to hide, if you're actually working for eight hours, or 10 or 12 hours, however long people decide to work, it's OK to have windows around conference rooms, it's OK to have cubicles. Because you're actually working. If you're not working, doing social media and spending half the day for personal stuff, then an environment like this will actually bother you.”

PeopleIfsLongSocialStuffHoursRoomsHalfEnvironmentMediaWindowSocial MediaEightSpendingBotherWorking ItConferencesCubiclesPersonal Stuff
Author:Marcelo Claure
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“When Uncle Bob (or Ted or Ray) promised to send a shooting star over the house to mark a young listener's birthday, the young listener, who had hung out the window for an hour without seeing the star, questioned not Uncle Bob (or Ted or Ray), but his own eyesight.”

YoungHouseStarsHoursSeeingWindowMarkShootingRaysBobHungListenersUnclesEyesightShooting Star
Book:The New York Times Guide to the Best 1000 Movies Ever Made
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“Central Europe is full of little countries standing shoulder to shoulder with no window to the sea. They are like the passengers in a rush-hour train which has stopped between stations for three centuries. And they all hate one another. And they're all crushed together waving their national flags, clanking their national chains, jabbering their national language.”

LittlesCountryTogetherHateThreeLanguageHoursSeaCenturyEuropeStandingWindowTrainShouldersChainsStationsFlagsCrushedPassengersRush HourNational Language
Author:Quentin Crisp
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“We can open up our computers and Skype with someone, and we see them. It's like looking through a window. And we can surf the internet through our phones, and it's like our consciousness is far away. Or we can step through a airplane door and be in another continent a few hours away. So technology feels, to me, like the doors sort of already exist, at least emotionally.”

FeelsHoursConsciousnessStepsTechnologyDoorsInternetComputerWindowPhonesAirplaneFar AwayContinentsSurfSkype
Author:Mohsin Hamid
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“Oh Christ, the exhaustion of not knowing anything. It's so tiring and hard on the nerves. It really takes it out of you, not knowing anything. You're given comedy and miss all the jokes. Every hour you get weaker. Sometimes, as I sit alone in my flat in London and stare at the window, I think how dismal it is, how heavy, to watch the rain and not know why it falls.”

ThinkingKnowsSometimesHardFallGivenChristHoursWatchesKnowingComedyMissingJokesRainWindowHeavyLondonStaringFlatsNervesNot KnowingTireExhaustion
Author:Martin Amis
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“It's so curious: one can resist tears and 'behave' very well in the hardest hours of grief. But then someone makes you a friendly sign behind a window, or one notices that a flower that was in bud only yesterday has suddenly blossomed, or a letter slips from a drawer... and everything collapses.”

LoveWellsHoursGriefBehindsSadnessTearsFlowerSadWindowLettersYesterdayHardestCuriousBehaveFriendlyBroken HeartGrief And LossSlipsCollapseHeartbrokenBudDrawersGriefingGrief LossDeath GriefGrief And DeathGrief And MourningHelp With GriefGrief And HopeDeep GriefTears Of Sorrow
Author:Sidonie Gabrielle Colette
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“I scarcely remember counting upon happiness—I look not for it if it be not in the present hour—nothing startles me beyond the moment. The setting sun will always set me to rights, or if a sparrow come before my Window I take part in its existence and pick about the gravel.”

IfsLooksMomentsRememberHoursExistenceSunRightsPicksWindowSettingSettingsCountingSparrowsGravel
Book:John Keats - The Man Behind The Lyrics: Life, letters, and literary remains: Complete Letters and Two Extensive Biographies of one of the most beloved English Romantic poets
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“But the last one: the baby who trails her scent like a flag of surrender through your life when there will be no more coming after - oh, that's love by a different name. She is the babe you hold in your arms for an hour after she's gone to sleep. If you put her down in the crib, she might wake up changed and fly away. So instead you rock my the window, drinking the light from her skin, breathing her exhaled dreams. Your heart bays to the double crescent moons of closed lashes on her cheeks. She's the one you can't put down.”

IfsHeartDifferentDreamLightMightLastsNamesHoursSleepGoneRocksChangedBabyArmsMoonWindowSkinsWake UpDrinkingSurrenderBreathingFlagsCheeksScentTrailsBabeLashesFly AwayDifferent NamesCrescentCrescent Moon
Book:The Poisonwood Bible
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“The years, the months, the days, and the hours have flown by my open window. Here and there an incident, a towering moment, a naked memory, an etched countenance, a whisper in the dark, a golden glow these and much more are the woven fabric of the time I have lived.”

YearsMomentsHoursMemoriesDarkMonthsWindowNakedGoldenFabricIncidentsHere And ThereWovenCountenance
Book:With Head and Heart: The Autobiography of Howard Thurman
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“We want to see a struggle. We want to see people falling over but getting themselves back up on their feet, and that's what's extraordinary- ordinary people and their struggle. There's nothing as interesting as real life out your window. You walk down the street for half an hour, I'll give you half an hour of drama.”

PeopleWantGivingRealFallHoursWalksInterestingHalfStruggleFeetStreetsDramaOrdinaryWindowExtraordinaryReal LifeOrdinary People
Author:Ricky Gervais
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“It snowed all week. Wheels and footsteps moved soundlessly on the street, as if the business of living continued secretly behind a pale but impenetrable curtain. In the falling quiet there was no sky or earth, only snow lifting in the wind, frosting the window glass, chilling the rooms, deadening and hushing the city. At all hours it was necessary to keep a lamp lighted, and Mrs. Miller lost track of the days: Friday was no different from Saturday and on Sunday she went to the grocery: closed, of course.”

IfsDifferentEarthFallCoursesLostHoursRoomsCitiesBehindsWeekSkyStreetsWindQuietWindowMovedGlassesTrackSnowWheelsSundayPaleSaturdayCurtainsFridayLampsChillLiftingGroceriesFootsteps
Book:Trilogy; an experiment in multimedia
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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 used to listen to it all the time when I was little and thinking about grown-up things. I would go to my bedroom window and stare at my reflection in the glass and the trees behind it and just listen to the song for hours. I decided then that when I met someone I thought was as beautiful as the song, I should give it to that person. And I didn’t mean beautiful on the outside. I meant beautiful in all ways.”

ThinkingWayGivingShouldMeanLittlesPersonsBeautifulUsedSongHoursBehindsTreeMetsReflectionWindowDecidedGlassesStaringBedroomJust Listen
Book:The Perks of Being a Wallflower YA edition
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“Busy old fool, unruly sun, Why dost thou thus, Through windows, and through curtains, call on us? Must to thy motions lovers'seasons run? Saucy pedantic wretch, go chide Late schoolboys, and sour prentices, Go tell court-huntsmen that the King will ride, Call countryants to harvest offices; Love, all alike, no season knows, nor clime, Nor hours, days, months, which are the rags of time.”

KnowsRunningTimeHoursSunFoolMonthsKingsLoversOfficeLateWindowSeasonsCourtBusyHarvestCurtainsSourRagsUnrulyPedanticCurtain Call
Author:John Donne
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