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Window Quotes

“After I went to bed I had a curious fancy as to dreams. In sleep the doors of the mind are shut, and thoughts come jumping in at the windows. They tumble headlong, and therefore are so disorderly and strange. Sometimes they are stout and light on their feet, and then they are rational dreams.”

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Book:Boswell's Edinburgh Journals 1767-1786
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“Imagine an iron house without windows, absolutely indestructible, with many people fast asleep inside who will soon die of suffocation. But you know since they will die in their sleep, they will not feel the pain of death. Now if you cry aloud to wake a few of the lighter sleepers, making those unfortunate few suffer the agony of irrevocable death, do you think you are doing them a good turn?”

PeopleIfsThinkingKnowsFeelsPainSufferingDiesTurnsHouseSleepImagineCryWindowIronAgonyUnfortunateLightersIndestructibleIrrevocableSleepers
Author:Lu Xun
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“Love is when I smile and breathe deeply down to my toes. I've given myself a gift of caring for myself and learned a new way to look at my issues. And I'm lying in some fresh sheets looking out the window at some visual beauty... a mountain, an ocean, a stream, a forest. A lovely man lying next to me or my babies sleeping.”

MenWayLooksLyingNextGivenSleepLove IsIssuesBabyMountainOceanWindowCaringBreatheLovelyForestsStreamsVisualsNew WaysToesSheetsMy BabyI SmileLovely Man
Author:Taylor Dane
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“I went to bed and woke in the middle of the night thinking I heard someone cry, thinking I myself was weeping, and I felt my face and it was dry. Then I looked at the window and thought: Why, yes, it's just the rain, the rain, always the rain, and turned over, sadder still, and fumbled about for my dripping sleep and tried to slip it back on.”

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Author:Ray Bradbury
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“Nothing could be slow enough, nothing lasts too long. No pleasure could equal, she thought, straightening the chairs, pushing in one book on the shelf, this having done with the triumphs of youth, lost herself in the process of living, to find it with a shock of delight, as the sun rose, as the day sank. Many a time had she gone, at Barton when they were all talking, to look at the sky; seen it between peoples shoulders at dinner; seen it in London when she could not sleep. She walked to the window.”

LooksLongBookDoneEnoughLastsLostProcessSleepPleasureTalkingSunGoneSkyYouthEqualWindowRoseDelightDinnerLondonShouldersTriumphShockChairsPushingShelves
Book:Mrs. Dalloway - Broadview Edition
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“As I followed Margo's directions through the maze of one-way streets, we saw a few people sleeping on the sidewalk or sitting on benches, but nobody was moving. Margo rolled down the window, and I felt the thick air blow across my face, warmer than night ought to be. I glanced over and saw strands of her hair blowing all around her face. Even though I could see her there, I felt entirely alone among these big and empty buildings, like I'd survived the apocalypse and the world had been given to me, this whole and amazing and endless world, mine for the exploring.”

PeopleWorldWayWholeBigsFacesMovingNightGivenFeltSleepSawsAirStreetsBuildingMinesHairOughtSittingWindowEmptyBlowEndlessOne WayThickExploringSurvivedApocalypseBenchesStrandsSidewalkMazesSitting On The BenchHair Blowing
Book:Paper Towns
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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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“I sleep all day. Noises flit around the house- garbage truck in the alley, rain, tree rapping against the bedroom window. I sleep. I inhabit sleep firmly, willing it, wielding it, pushing away dreams, refusing, refusing. Sleep is my lover now, my forgetting, my opiate, my oblivion. [...] It is afternoon, it is night, it is morning. Everything is reduced to this bed, this endless slumber that makes the days into one day, makes time stop, stretches and compacts time until it is meaningless.”

DreamNightHouseSleepForgetMorningTreeWillingLoversOne DayBedRainWindowRapEndlessNoisePushingMeaninglessAfternoonBedroomOblivionTruckGarbageAlleysSlumberMaking TimeOpiatesMy LoverPushing AwayGarbage Trucks
Book:The Time Traveler's Wife
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“Phresine showed him where he could sleep, in an interior room with no windows, a narrow bed, and a washstand. There were chests stacked along one wall, and Costis guessed the dismal spot was probably a closet cleaned out to make room for him. Hard to believe the royal apartments, so lavish elsewhere, would otherwise have such a plain corner. Expecting better of royal closets, Costis went to bed disappointed.”

BelieveHardSleepRoomsWallBedWindowCornersSpotsChestsDisappointedElsewhereExpectingApartmentClosetsInteriorsRoyalHard To Believe
Author:Megan Whalen Turner
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“I will remember the kisses our lips raw with love and how you gave me everything you had and how I offered you what was left of me, and I will remember your small room the feel of you the light in the window your records your books our morning coffee our noons our nights our bodies spilled together sleeping the tiny flowing currents immediate and forever your leg my leg your arm my arm your smile and the warmth of you who made me laugh again.”

FeelsMadeBookBodyLightTogetherRememberNightLeftSleepRoomsMorningLaughingForeverRecordsArmsKissingWindowLipsCurrentsLegsCoffeeTinyWarmthInspirational LoveRomantic LoveNoonYour SmileMorning CoffeeSmall Rooms
Author:Charles Bukowski
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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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“In San Francisco - life goes on. Hope rises and dreams flicker and die. Love plans for tomorrow and loneliness thinks of yesterday. Life is beautiful and living is pain. The sound of music floats down a dark street. A young girl looks out a window and wishes she were married. A drunk sleeps under a bridge. It is tomorrow.”

ThinkingLooksDreamPainBeautifulYoungLife IsDiesGirlWishSoundDarkSleepPlansStreetsLonelinessGoes OnTomorrowMarriedWindowYesterdayDrunkBridgesFloatsSan FranciscoLife Goes OnFlickerLife Is BeautifulSound Of Music
Author:Hunter S. Thompson
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“A second floor window opened, and Kyle stuck his head and shoulders out so he could look down at us. “If you two are finished playing Cowboy and Indian out there, some of us would like to get their beauty sleep.” I looked at Warren. “You heard ‘um Kemo Sabe. Me go to my little wigwam and get ‘um shut-eye.” “How come you always get to play the Indian?” whined Warren, deadpan. “Cause she’s the Indian, white boy,” said Kyle.”

IfsLooksLittlesSaidTwoPlayEyeCausesSleepWhiteBoysHeardWindowFinishedStuckShouldersIndianCowboySleeping Beauty
Author:Patricia Briggs
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“We throw our parties; we abandon our families to live alone in Canada; we struggle to write books that do not change the world, despite our gifts and our unstinting efforts, our most extravagant hopes. We live our lives, do whatever we do, and then we sleep--it's as simple and ordinary as that. A few jump out of windows or drown themselves or take pills; more die by accident; and most of us, the vast majority, are slowly devoured by some disease or, if we're very fortunate, by time itself.”

IfsWorldWritingBookDiesSleepSimplePartyEffortStruggleOur LivesDiseaseOrdinaryWindowMajorityAccidentsDespiteFortunateOur FamilyChanging The WorldCanadaAbandonPillsExtravagant
Book:The Hours: A Novel
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“Dennis looked at the puppy in the window. We both did. It was the oddest thing. Normally, puppies in pet store windows sleep or pee or roll around on top of other dogs. This one ignored us its window-mates and was instead sitting with its nose pressed against the glass, looking at us with an extremely serious little expression on its face. An expression that seemed to me to be saying, "I am a sacred cow. Get out your wallet.”

LittlesFacesSleepDogSeriousExpressionSittingWindowSacredGlassesStoresNosesPetMatesCowsIgnoredPuppyWalletsSacred Cows
Book:Possible Side Effects
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“At night, the house thick with sleep, she would peer out her bedroom window at the trees and sky and feel the presence of a mystery. Some possibility that included her--separate from her present life and without its limitations. A secret. Riding in the car with her father, she would look out at other cars full of people she'd never seen, any one of whom she might someday meet and love, and would feel the world holding her making its secret plans.”

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Book:Look at Me: A Novel
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“But there were moments when she played songs that made you wonder where she learned them, where indeed she came from. Harsh-tender wandering tunes with words that smacked of pinewoods or prairie. One went: Don’t wanna sleep, Don’t wanna die, Just wanna go a-travelin’ through the pastures of the sky; and this one seemed to gratify her the most, for often she continued it long after her hair hard dried, after the sun had gone and there were lighted windows in the dusk.”

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Author:Truman Capote
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“The window gave onto a view of dove-gray roofs and balconies, each one containing the same cracked flowerpot and sleeping feline. It was as if the entire city of Paris had agreed to abide by a single understated taste. Each neighbor was doing his or her own to keep up standards, which was difficult because the French ideal wasn't clearly delineated like the neatness and greenness of American lawns, but more of a picturesque disrepair. It took courage to let things fall apart so beautifully.”

IfsFallDifficultSleepViewsCitiesTasteStandardsIdealsWindowNeighborParisGrayRoofFalling ApartLawnsDoveCrackedContainingBalconiesFelinePicturesqueNeatnessUnderstated
Book:The Marriage Plot: A Novel
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“The midnight disease is a kind of emotional insomnia; at ever conscious moment its victim—even if he or she writes at dawn, or in the middle of the afternoon—feels like a person lying in a sweltering bedroom, with the window thrown open, looking up at a sky filled with stars and airplanes, listening to the narrative of a rattling blind, an ambulance, a fly trapped in a Coke bottle, while all around him the neighbours soundly sleep.”

IfsFeelsWritingKindPersonsMomentsLyingStarsSleepSkyMiddleEmotionalListeningDiseaseConsciousWindowVictimBlindFilledNarrativeDawnThrownBottlesAfternoonAirplaneTrappedBedroomMidnightInsomniaNeighbourCokeAmbulance
Author:Michael Chabon
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“There were days, rainy gray days, when the streets of Brooklyn were worthy of a photograph, every window the lens of a Leica, the view grainy and immobile. We gathered our colored pencils and sheets of paper and drew like wild, feral children into the night, until, exhausted, we fell into bed. We lay in each other's arms, still awkward but happy, exchanging breathless kisses into sleep.”

ChildrenStillsNightSleepViewsStreetsArmsBedKissingPaperWindowLaysPhotographWorthyGrayAwkwardExhaustedSheetsPencilsLensesBrooklynRainyBreathlessExchangingLeicaGray Days
Author:Patti Smith
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“Your favorite colour . . . it's green?" "That's right." Then I think of something to add. "And yours is orange." "Orange?" He seems unconvinced. "Not bright orange. But soft. Like the sunset," I say. "At least, that's what you told me once." "Oh." He closes his eyes briefly, maybe trying to conjure up that sunset, then nods his head. "Thank you." But more words tumble out. "You're a painter. You're a baker. You like to sleep with the windows open. You never take sugar in your tea. And you always double-knot your shoelaces.”

ThinkingTryingSeemsEyeSleepWindowGreenAddPainterTeaHis EyesColourSunsetSugarOrangeKnotsPeetaYour FavoriteBakersKatniss And PeetaKatniss PeetaShoelaces
Author:Suzanne Collins
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“Silence emerges from the sound of rain and spreads in a crescendo of gray monotony over the narrow street I contemplate. I’m sleeping while awake, standing by the window, leaning against it as against everything. I search in myself for the sensations I feel before these falling threads of darkly luminous water that stand out from the grimy building facades and especially from the open windows. And I don’t know what I feel or what I want to feel. I don’t know what to think or where I am.”

ThinkingKnowsWantFeelsFallSoundWaterSleepSilenceStreetsBuildingRainStandingWindowSpreadAwakeSensationsGrayContemplatingThreadStanding OutLuminousFacadeMonotonyCrescendoNarrow StreetsSound Of Rain
Book:The Book of Disquiet
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“...In Paris she found Magnus, who was living in a garret apartment and paiting, an occupation for which he had no aptitude whatsoever. He let her sleep on a mattress by the window, and in the night, when she woke up screaming for Will, he came and put his arms around her, smelling of turpentine. "The first one is always the hardest," he said. "The first?" "The first one you love who dies," he said. "It gets easier, after.”

FirstsSaidNightDiesFoundSleepArmsEasierWindowHardestParisOccupationPrincessApartmentWill HerondaleOne You LoveAptitudeTessa GrayClockworkMattressesClockwork Princess
Author:Cassandra Clare
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“My bed was pushed up hard against the wall just below the window. I loved to sleep with the windows open. Rainy nights were the best of all: I would open my windows and put my head on my pillow and close my eyes and feel the wind on my face and listen to the trees sway and creak. There would be raindrops blown onto my face, too, if I was lucky, and I would imagine that I was in my boat on the ocean and that it was swaying with the swell of the sea. I did not imagine that I was a pirate, or that I was going anywhere. I was just on my boat.”

IfsFeelsHardWould BeEyeFacesNightSleepImagineTreeSeaWindWallLuckyBedOceanWindowBoatImagine ThatPillowPirateRainyRaindropsSwayingRainy Night
Author:Neil Gaiman
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“No one can posses an afternoon of rain beating against the window, or the serenity of a sleeping child, or the magical moment when the waves break on the rocks. No one can posses the beautiful things of this Earth, but we can know them and love them. It is through such moments that God reveals himself to mankind.”

KnowsChildrenMomentsEarthBeautifulSleepBreakMankindRocksRainWindowAnd LoveWaveAfternoonSerenityBeautiful ThingsPosseMagical MomentsSleeping Child
Author:Paulo Coelho
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“I used to think I was unstable, because I had this thirst for something. I could never figure out what it was. I couldn’t sleep at night, and I always wanted to be somewhere else. I have a window tattooed, this little box, and it’s because wherever I was, I wanted to be somewhere else. And, I always saw myself, wherever I was in life, staring out the window.”

ThinkingLittlesWantedUsedNightSleepSawsFiguresWindowBoxesStaringThirstSomewhere ElseUnstableTattooedStaring Out The Window
Author:Angelina Jolie
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