window

Outside the window, a bank of clouds appeared on the horizon, inching slowly across the sky, finally slipping across the Moon and blocking out its radiant light. As he clicked off his overhead light, he turned his eyes one last time to the heavens. Outside, in the newly fallen darkness, the world had been transformed. The sky had become a glistening tapestry of stars.

Suicide creates his own society: to shut yourself off from other people in some dingy, rented box and stare, like Melville's Bartleby, day in and day out at the dead wall outside your window is in itself a rejection of the world which is said to be rejecting you. It is a way of saying, like Bartleby, 'I prefer not to' to every offer and every possibility, which is a condition no amount of social engineering will cure.

You are looking at the world from your window, that__ good, but there is something missing here, something very big: You must also look at your window from the world to see yourself!

Have you ever sat on a window seat in the train of your memories while it's raining heavily? Rain has this ridiculous power of waking up all the angels and demons inside us at once doesn't it?. All of a sudden there is a war inside us between both the sides. We can do nothing but clench our fists and watch our train derail and take a path we have never come across before. All we know at that point of time is that we are going to crash somewhere. Either our demons win or the angels, we are going to get wounded somewhere.

Peace can't be seen with eyes, only the mind can see it and the heart can feel it. So open the window of your mind to let it come in.

The passing clouds outside the window form the perfect backdrop for wavering frames I see moving inside my mind.

The sound of diesel fuel rushing through grimy pistons and cylinders below a morning-fogged window bored through his ears like a deep-water drill bit, and the thump of his own heartbeat cursed him for breaking one of his many rules.

Last night the nightingale sat by my window and sang her joyous song of love...Though I loved it, my heart silently missed the beautiful song of your heart beat!

Her latest client is Professor Desmond Curnin, a university professor who teaches library sciences to large groups of students. He__ quick to pay on-time, quick to never fall behind. He__ a brown-haired man with an unkempt beard and thick-framed hipster glasses. He slides a leather briefcase stuffed with dollar bills into the open window of Geraldine__ car. __our fly__ unzipped,_ Geraldine points out, disgusted. __ho gave you a license to sell hot dogs, buddy?

He built a fort around, making it impossible for anyone to go near him. And he sat near the window watching her dance in the rain, with someone else.

The famous split windowSplits had the KDF dash until 1953, which had two glove compartments. Note rear ___ bonnet and small round taillights. There were no indicators like today__ cars _ just pop-up indicators that work with an electric servo, called __rafficators_ or __emaphores_. 6v electrics. Small, flat front windscreen.

The original KDF-wagen as it was called was basic and rudimentary, but essentially the same as the later post war production cars that followed. Features of this vehicle included cable operated brakes (!!) and a tiny 800cc flat four motor with a single exhaust, 16 inch tires and the KDF twin glove compartment (without lids) dash.Oh, and last but not least _ probably the most famous and sought-after rear window in automotive history!

She is trying to control me with fear, because she cannot control me any other way.My eyes open wide. They burn as if they are on fire__o, as if they are made of fire. Eyes are the window to the soul.

I will continue to exist in all these little moments. where we took the first dip of love and my heart skipped a beat. Our first walk, the first touch which burnt my soul, that first rain, the first kiss, the first comfortable silence between us. How many years may pass, Whenever I am sitting near the window and its raining or whenever I am sitting by a fireside and its cold, There will always be a piece of me which reminds me of you. It will stay in this moment forever.

He sat beside the window in the dark, with his eyes closed. Hearing to the sound of the rain. The whisky in his glass burnt his throat, while the smoke of his cigarette filled his lungs and the fire inside his heart consumed his soul slowly.

The day you start falling in love, with the wrecked homes and broken windows instead of running away from them. You will find a story that fills your soul, behind every burnt door.

The window of her sadness was so vast that it almost opened a path to her soul.

There is no window to look outside.There is no window to look within.Open the doors.