My writings are the window of my soul through which you can see me, feel me, and understand me.
Debasish MridhaAirline Employee: Aisle or window, smoking or non? Otto: What was the part in the middle?
A Fish Called WandaLisa: A woman never goes anywhere but the hospital without packing makeup, clothes, and jewelry.
Rear WindowWithnail: You're not leaving me in here alone. Those are the kind of windows faces look in at.
Withnail & IMortimer Brewster: [finding a second body in the window seat] Ye, Gods! There's another one!
Arsenic and Old Lace