We didn't have a TV in the living room and all my friends thought we were kind of weird. When they'd come over, my mom wanted to talk to them about current events.
I guess the feminism in "Room" springs to mind most.
When I woke the next morning in my room at White's Motel, I showered and stood naked in front of the mirror, watching myself solemnly brush my teeth. I tried to feel something like excitement but came up only with a morose unease. Every now and then I could see myself-truly see myself-and a sentence would come to me, thundering like a god into my head, and as I saw myself then in front of that tarnished mirror what came was 'the woman with the hole in her heart'. That was me.
A young musician plays scales in his room and only bores his family. A beginning writer, on the other hand, sometimes has the misfortune of getting into print.
I love the process of being alone in a room.
He turned out the light and went into Jem's room. He would be there all night, and he would be there when Jem waked up in the morning.
I'm a sucker for interiors and carefully, beautifully filmed people sitting in a big room. My appetites are simple.
(In cooking), there is always room for careful tinkering.
By perseverance the snail reached the ark. A mouse may find a hole, be the room ever so full of cats.
I want to show that I can pitch well and get along with the guys in the locker room. '
Some pain is simply the normal grief of human existence. That is pain that I try to make room for.
The idea of going to the movies made Hugo remember something Father had once told him about going to the movies when he was just a boy, when the movies were new. Hugo's father had stepped into a dark room, and on a white screen he had seen a rocket fly right into the eye of the man in the moon. Father said he had never experienced anything like it. It had been like seeing his dreams in the middle of the day.
When I was kidnapped, my parents snapped into action. They rented out my room.
The room is so small, when I put the key in, I broke the window!
Whoever you are, go out into the evening, leaving your room, of which you know every bit; your house is the last before the infinite, whoever you are.
If you make a fool of yourself in front of a cat, he will sneer at you, if you are sober; he will leave the room if you are drunk. If you make a fool of yourself in front a dog, he will make a fool of himself, too.
So now, how did God produce this world?. . . The fable is that he breathed upon us. In his breath, his wind, came moisture and things began to grow. . . a message of hope. Nothing physical. How do you intend for your breath to become a work of art? The only way I can see it is that you prevent your breath from becoming a structure. As soon as your breath takes on the form of a room, you are a carpenter; you're not God.
When I saw Rijkaard entering the referee's dressing room I couldn't believe it. When Didier Drogba was sent off, I wasn't surprised.
To read Helen Macdonald's memoir, H Is for Hawk, is to feel as though Emily Bronte just turned up at your door, trailing all the windy, feral outdoors into your living room.
I can smell blood, Elena,” Dmitri drawled, walking back into the room. “Are you trying to flirt?
