Jeff: She sure is the "eat, drink and be merry" girl. Stella: Yeah, she'll wind up fat, alcoholic and miserable.
Jeff: Would you fix me a sandwich, please? Stella: Yes, I will. And I'll spread a little common sense on the bread.
Lisa: Where does a man get inspiration to write a song like that? Jeff: He gets it from the landlady once a month.
Bullet Tooth Tony: I'm driving down the road with your head stuck in my window. What does it look like I'm doin'?
Windows: You guys gonna listen to Garry? You gonna let him give the orders? I mean, he could BE one of those THINGS!
[Finch looks out his window on the morning of November 4] Finch: Tonight's your big night. Are you ready for it?... Are we ready for it?
I love my kitchen. For Manhattan, I have a rather decent-size kitchen, and it has an opening that gives out to the dining room, which has a window with a view of the city and in the distance the Statue of Liberty.
Hopefully, there's a place in music for Tinted Windows. If we're really trying to be iconic, we should just stop right now. If one of us could die, that would also help. But I don't think anybody wants that gig.
The Tinted Windows shows were very fun but it's very different for me as a performer. I'm not playing music - I'm just singing and I missed that. I miss rocking out on keys, drums, guitar... whatever it is.
I have a room dedicated to music and recording. I go there first thing in the morning and just before I go to bed. And it has a window to my street, so I can watch all the crazies walking by.
It was morning; through the high window I saw the pure, bright blue of the sky as it hovered cheerfully over the long roofs of the neighboring houses. It too seemed full of joy, as if it had special plans, and had put on its finest clothes for the oc...
On the last morning of Virginia's bloodiest year since the Civil War, I built a fire and sat facing a window of darkness where at sunrise I knew I would find the sea.
When I was a child and came with my elders to Galway for their salmon fishing in the river that rushes past the gaol, I used to look with awe at the window where men were hung, and the dark, closed gate.
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.
