Reporter: What kind of plane is it? Johnny: Oh, it's a big pretty white plane with red stripes, curtains in the windows and wheels and it looks like a big Tylenol.
Rex Kramer: Later we'll run down the landing procedures. [flicks his cigarette out the window, causing it to strike something and explode]
David Huxley: But Susan, you can't climb in a man's bedroom window! Susan Vance: I know, it's on the second floor!
"Hoot": Once that first bullet goes past your head, politics and all that shit just goes right out the window.
Reverend Johnson: We will now read from Matthew, Mark, Luke... [stick of dynamite sails in through window] Reverend Johnson: ... and DUCK.
Begin challenging your own assumptions. Your assumptions are your windows on the world. Scrub them off every once in while, or the light won't come in.
Begin challenging your assumptions. Your assumptions are the windows on the world. Scrub them off every once in awhile or the light won't come in.
Begin challenging your own assumptions. Your assumptions are your windows on the world. Scrub them off every once in awhile, or the light won't come in.
Love is a piano dropped from a four story window and you were in the wrong place at the wrong time. -Two Little Girls (Little Plastic Castle)
I have a small room to write in. One wall is completely covered in books. And I face the window with the curtain closed to stop the light hitting the computer.
I drive a hybrid, and we've changed our light bulbs and windows and installed solar panels and geothermal ground source heat pumps and most everything else.
I think writers need windows on a view to remind them that a whole world is out there, not the minutiae with which they might be dealing on a close scale.
A man doesn't borrow pieces of his body. A building doesn't borrow hunks of its soul. Its maker gives it the soul and every wall, window and stairway to express it.
If you clean it up, get analytical, all the subtle joy and emotion you felt in the first place goes flying out the window.
Composing is like driving down a foggy road toward a house. Slowly you see more details of the house-the color of the slates and bricks, the shape of the windows. The notes are the bricks and the mortar of the house.
Literature offers not just a window into the culture of diverse regions, but also the society, the politics; it's the only place where we can keep track of ideas.
There's a weird cloud around you when you're recognizable. It was a brief window for me. I think you have to have a pathological need for attention of any type, negative or positive, to thrive in that kind of situation. And I only want compliments.
It is raining at the top of my roof and I'am inside my blanket in this chilling night with an open window, missing my love and listning the rain singing a lullaby to me.
Adversity draws men together and produces beauty and harmony in life's relationships, just as the cold of winter produces ice-flowers on the window-panes, which vanish with the warmth.
Heck, who needs things like skydiving and rock climbing for your adreline kick, if you can get it from playing Russian roulette with open windows?
As we drew nearer I saw a cathedral like a crown on the head of a city. In its white walls every window glinted in the sun. Lincoln! Of such places is England made. -"No Moon Tonight
