A Quote by Richard Wilbur
Outside the open window The morning air is all awash with angels.
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Because forgiveness is like this: a room can be dank because you have closed the windows, you've closed the curtains. But the sun is shining outside, and the air is fresh outside. In order to get that fresh air, you have to get up and open the window and draw the curtains apart.
I woke to find every window open I woke to find the heavy door ajar And I walked outside and stood upon the hilltop And gazed once more on a bright morning star I walked outside and every bird was singing As I found again my bright morning star
An open mind is like an open window. It lets the fresh air in.
If there's a swarm of bees outside an open window, it might be a good idea to close the window, even if a few bees have already flown into the house. Somehow, Democrats who oppose shutting the border don't see the analogy.
Half of the days in 2014, I had to confine my daughter to my home like a prisoner because the air quality in Beijing was so poor. One morning, I saw my daughter banging on the window... The day will come when she asks me, 'Why do you keep me here? What is going to hurt me when I go outside?'
At night, I open the window and ask the moon to come and press its face against mine. Breathe into me. Close the language-door and open the love-window. The moon won't use the door, only the window.
Angels light the way. Angels do not begrudge anyone anything, angels do not tear down, angels do not compete, angels do not constrict their hearts, angels do not fear. That's why they sing and that's how they fly. We, of course, are only angels in disguise.
The water is clearer than the air, and the air is the air that angels breathe.
The rich, sweet smell of the hayricks rose to his chamber window; the hundred perfumes of the little flower-garden beneath scented the air around; the deep-green meadows shone in the morning dew that glistened on every leaf as it trembled in the gentle air: and the birds sang as if every sparkling drop were a fountain of inspiration to them.
There was something awesome in the thought of the solitary mortal standing by the open window and summoning in from the gloom outside the spirits of the nether world.
I always love novels that open up a subject to me - like raising a window to a beautiful, mysterious world outside.
Outside sleep's open window, between the drops of rain, history is writing a recipe book for every earthly pain.
Prayer is the window that God has placed in the walls of our world. Leave it shut and the world is a cold, dark house. But throw back the curtains and see His light. Open the window and hear His voice. Open the window of prayer and invoke the presence of God in your world.
May I kiss you then? On this miserable paper? I might as well open the window and kiss the night air.
In the snow outside my window I see a small green frog, one eye blinking and the other wide open, unmoving, looking at me. I know this is God.
I opened the large central window of my office room to its full on the fine early May morning. Then I stood for a few moments, breathing in the soft, warm air that was charged with the scent of white lilacs below.
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