#window

I consider myself a stained-glass window. And this is how I live my life. Closing no doors and covering no windows; I am the multi-colored glass with light filtering through me, in many different shades. Allowing light to shed and fall into many many hues. My job is not to direct anything, but only to filter into many colors. My answer is destiny and my guide is joy. And there you have me. ↗

— C. JoyBell C.

#freedom #happiness #humanism #inspirational #inspirational-attitude

There is other disturbing facts surround the hideous 911 attacks, which my family and I could see from the third floor bathroom window of our homes! ↗

— Amiri Baraka

#bathroom #could #disturbing #facts #family

I am not feeling any better because I cannot stay in bed, having constant cause for walking. They say I leave at night by the window of my tower, hanging from a red umbrella with which I set fire to the forest! ↗

— Camille Claudel

#any #because #bed #better #cannot

Between our birth and death we may touch understanding, As a moth brushes a window with its wing. ↗

— Christopher Fry

#birth #brushes #death #may #moth

I could see flames from the windows of my chambers. For the next three or four days we had major rioting here in Washington and I stayed at the court day and night. ↗

— Harold H. Greene

#could #court #day #days #flames

Sometimes you need to stand with your nose to the window and have a good look at jazz. And I've done that on many occasions. ↗

— J. J. Johnson

#good #i #jazz #look #many

In the shaded portions where the two spheres of different lives meet, certain fundamentals- moods, loves, fears, angers- can't be hidden. That's the contract. ↗

— Jeffery Deaver

#anger

I feel that it is healthier to look out at the world through a window than through a mirror. Otherwise, all you see is yourself and whatever is behind you. ↗

— Bill Withers

#feel #healthier #i #i feel #look

Out of the apartment houses come women who should be young but have faces like stale beer; men with pulled down hats and quick eyes that look the street over behind the cupped hand that shields the match flame; worn intellectuals with cigarette coughs and no money in the bank; fly cops with granite faces and unwavering eyes; cookies and coke peddlers; people who look like nothing in particular and know it, and once in a while even men that actually go to work. But they come out early, when the wide cracked sidewalks are empty and still have dew on them. (from) "The High Window ↗

— Raymond Chandler

#men

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. ↗

— Benjamin Britten

#color #composing #details #down #driving