Entrance Door Quotes & Sayings

We're seniors."
"I know," I said
"So aren't you ... curious?"
"About what?"
"About life. Out there. Life!" she said again. "Tell me, Cameron Ann Morgan, what do you want to be when you grow up?"
We'd reached another door, and I stopped and looked up at the camera that monitored the entrance, just as I whispered, "Alive. — Ally Carter

At the entrance of this street, a Janissary was pinned to a wooden door by an eight-foot-long spear, which Jack looked on as proving that Yevgeny had passed by there recently. — Neal Stephenson

Suffering so unbolts the door of the heart, that the Word hath easier entrance. — Richard Baxter

Suddenly he stopped as if rooted outside the doors of one house; before his eyes an inexplicable phenomenon occurred: a carriage stopped at the entrance; the door opened; a gentleman in a uniform jumped out, hunching over, and ran up the stairs. What was Kovalev's horror as well as amazement when he recognized him as his own nose! — Nikolai Gogol

(The feast-room in GUNNAR'S house. The entrance-door is in the back; smaller doors in the side-walls. In front, on the left, the greater high-seat; opposite it on the right, the lesser. In the middle of the floor, a wood fire is burning on a built-up hearth. In the background, on both sides of the door, are daises for the women of the household. From each of the high-seats, a long table, with benches, stretches backwards, parallel with the wall. It is dark outside; the fire lights the room.) — Henrik Ibsen

The latent abundance of your inner most resources matters less. What matter most is the impact you can make with your inner resources and the distinctive footprints you can leave with what is within you. The excuse not to dare is there for everybody. When you see so many people crowded at the entrance, think of the roofing and if the roofing is too high, think of the next door and if the next door is not penetrable, create a door within the wall. — Ernest Agyemang Yeboah

Wait a second," Andy said, snapping his fingers. "You're Vietnamese." "Don't say it," Sun warned. But Andy, a grin stretched across his face, couldn't resist. "You're a Vietnam vet." Sun's face became even harder, something Andy hadn't thought possible. "Never heard that one before. Open the pen there." Andy lifted the latch on the gate and Sun led the sheep out of the pen and over to the entrance door. "I've visited Viet Nam twice," Andy said. "Beautiful place. All of those war movies make it look like hell, but it's actually very tranquil, don't you think?" "I wouldn't know. I've never been there. I'm an American. — Lee Goldberg

In those days, even in European countries, death had a solemn social importance. It was not regarded as a moment when certain bodily organs ceased to function, but as a dramatic climax, a moment when the soul made its entrance into the next world, passing in full consciousness through a lowly door to an unimaginable scene. Among the watchers there was always the hope that — Willa Cather

They think they can keep me out, but it does not matter how many locks they hang at the entrance. There is always another door.
- The Thief Who Stole the Stars, by Tristan Chirsley — Marie Lu

Remember, the entrance door to the sanctuary is inside you. — Rumi

That which Dante saw written on the door of the inferno must be written in a different sense also at the entrance to philosophy: "Abandon all hope, ye who enter here." Those who look for true philosophy must be bereft of all hope, all desire, all longing. They must not wish for anything, not know anything, must feel completely bare and impoverished. — Friedrich Wilhelm Joseph Schelling

Walking past the kitchen counter again, I reached into my left pocket and grabbed my chocolate supply. I stopped and grabbed the door to exit. As I did, I dipped my shoulder and dropped my laptop in the entrance. I stood for a long moment, looking at the computer bag. I released my grip on my right hand and dropped the chocolate bars beside it, locked the door, and left. — Scott Hildreth

There are some mosques with facilities for women; it's usually a back room with a back-door entrance. — Ayaan Hirsi Ali

Wrath shut the door. "Let's do it," he said to George. And the dog knew right where to go, leading him to the entrance - which Wrath opened with his mind. "Hi, honey, I'm home!" he hollered. "Did you bring flowers?" Lassiter shouted back. "Not for you." "Damn it. Well, I'm on deck tonight with Tohr, so can we get moving? There's a full list of appointments, but I want to get back for Hell's Kitchen." "Don't you DVR that shit?" Wrath groused as he and George went into the old dining room. "Yeah, but I have poor impulse control. It was on at nine, okay? And I hate waiting. I put George's fresh water down by your chair, b.t.dub." "At least you're a dog lover. That's the only thing that saves you." "Ha! I have wings and a halo, you cranky son of a bitch. I'm already perma-saved." "Just our luck. — J.R. Ward

Tis some visiter entreating entrance at my chamber door — Edgar Allan Poe

The audience that storms the box-office of the theater to gain entrance to a sensational show is small and sleepy compared with the throng that crashes the courthouse door when something concerning real life and death is to be laid bare to the public. — Clarence Darrow

He stood at the entrance to the kitchen, blocking my path to the front door like the Berlin Wall. -- Least Wanted — Debbi Mack

New Orleans invented the brown paper bag party - usually at a gathering in a home - where anyone darker than the bag attached to the door was denied entrance. The brown bag criterion survives as a metaphor for how the black cultural elite quite literally establishes caste along color lines within black life. — Michael Eric Dyson

They all knew this, but this didn't stop them from good-naturedly crowding around the front door every time it opened, every single time, despite the fact that they were never -EVER- let into the house. I loved this particularly fine thing about dogs: Despite a lifetime of denied entrance, hope never died in their hearts. — Jacqueline Kelly

Like thieves in the night, unwelcome thoughts can and do seek entrance to our minds. But we don't have to throw open the door, serve them tea and crumpets and tell them where the silverware is kept! — Jeffrey R. Holland

You could have knocked ... Or, you know, announced your entrance like they do on Downton Abbey".
He steps out of his drawstring pants, now completely naked. He walks towards the glass shower door and stops. And then he knocks on it.
I have petrified by the tiled wall.
"It's Loren Hale," he says, a smile spreading across his lips. "May I come in? — Krista Ritchie

The door from the next room suddenly opened with a timid, quiet creak, as if thus announcing the entrance of a very insignificant person ... — Fyodor Dostoyevsky

According to my views, aiming at quantitative investigations, that is at establishing relations between measurements of phenomena, should take first place in the experimental practice of physics. By measurement to knowledge [door meten tot weten] I should like to write as a motto above the entrance to every physics laboratory. — Heike Kamerlingh Onnes

Opening the door quietly, I slipped in without switching on the light. From the entrance hall, I
could see the dining room at the end of the corridor, the table still decked out for the party. The cake was there, untouched, and the crockery still waited for the meal. I could make out the motionless silhouette of my father in his armchair, as he observed the scene from the window. He was awake and still wearing his best suit. Wreaths of smoke rose lazily from a cigarette he held between his index and ring
fingers, as if it were a pen. I hadn't seen my father smoke for years. — Carlos Ruiz Zafon

Opposite the Half-Axe was the narrow-fronted entrance to a shop devoted to short lengths of rope and wooden poles a man and a half high. Tehol had no idea how such a specialized enterprise could survive, especially in this unravelled, truncated market, yet its door had remained open for almost six centuries, locked up each night by a short length of rope and a wooden pole. — Steven Erikson

You want to achieve your dreams early, right? I know of only one back door; that's HARDWORK. Only few people use that entrance so the advantage is that there is no or less traffic there! — Israelmore Ayivor

Her fingers flew, her fiddle was an entire orchestra, and every note beautifully brought into being struck a chord of satisfaction within her. She wondered at the unfamiliar lightness in her chest and realised she was laughing.
So great was her focus, it took her a while to register the strange expression that crept to Brocker's face as he listened, finger tapping the armrest of his chair. His eyes were fixed behind Fire and to the right, in the direction of Archer's back doorway. Fire comprehended that someone must be standing in Archer's entrance, someone Brocker watched with startled eyes.
And then everything happened at once. Fire recognised the mind in the doorway; she spun around, fiddle and bow screeching apart; she stared at Prince Brigan leaning against the door frame. — Kristin Cashore

We live in the hearts of others, where no noisy words are throbbing at the entrance door. — Kristian Goldmund Aumann

Chapter 8 - The Rescue Team: "Timbroke Hall was completely dark. A creaking shutter opened and closed to the rhythm of a howling, north wind. It bore a cold reminder of the harsh winter coming quickly this year. The children crept up the rock stairs to the familiar wooden doors at the front of the building. Ariana led them around the porch to a side door according to her, was never locked. The broken handle dangled loosely and offered free entrance. The team cautiously crossed the threshold of the old hall into pitch blackness. An owl hooted and the sound of large wings flapping reverberated around them. Camilla startled, cried out a fearful yelp causing everyone to jump. Hannah reflexively covered Camilla's mouth until she was certain nothing more would slip out. "Quiet," whispered Jess in an angry tone directed at Hannah. "It wasn't me," whispered Hannah pointing down at Camilla. "Sorry," whispered Camilla apologetically. — M.K. McDaniel

I used to think that when I grew up there wouldn't be so many rules. Back in elementary school there were rules about what entrance you used in the morning, what door you used going home, when you could talk in the library, how many paper towels you could use in the rest room, and how many drinks of water you could get during recess. And there was always somebody watching to make sure.
What I'm finding out about growing older is that there are just as many rules about lots of things, but there's nobody watching. — Phyllis Reynolds Naylor

The Temple of Righteousness is built and its four walls are the four Principles - Purity, Wisdom, Compassion, Love. Peace is its roof; its floor Steadfastness, its entrance-door is Selfless Duty, its atmosphere is Inspiration, and its music is the Joy of the perfect. — James Allen

You sit at the edge of the world,
I am in a crater that's no more.
Words without letters
Standing in the shadow of the door.
The moon shines down on a sleeping lizard,
Little fish rain from the sky.
Outside the window there are soldiers,
steeling themselves to die.
(Refrain)
Kafka sits in a chair by the shore,
Thinking for the pendulum that moves the world, it seems.
When your heart is closed,
The shadow of the unmoving Sphinx,
Becomes a knife that pierces your dreams.
The drowning girl's fingers
Search for the entrance stone, and more.
Lifting the hem of her azure dress,
She gazes
at Kafka on the shore — Haruki Murakami

The poet called Miss Liberty's torch 'the lamp beside the golden door.' Well, that was the entrance to America, and it still is. And now you really know why we're here tonight. The glistening hope of that lamp is still ours. Every promise, every opportunity, is still golden in this land. And through that golden door our children can walk into tomorrow with the knowledge that no one can be denied the promise that is America. Her heart is full; her torch is still golden, her future bright. She has arms big enough to comfort and strong enough to support, for the strength in her arms is the strength of her people. She will carry on ... unafraid, unashamed, and unsurpassed. In this springtime of hope, some lights seem eternal; America's is. — Ronald Regan

The word 'Dorf' lies, although the Dablem Dorf station is covered with straw. Arabian students hang out in front of the entrance to the underground, and only the German kiosk of the kabob seller clues us in that the bus did not arrive through a secret passage and set us down in Morocco. The University buildings are hidden among trees, intertwining paths and signposts, which exclude each other. The arrow points to another arrow 3 m away, which is pointing back, perpendicular to the first. With signs making sure no one can get lost during his search, he searches and searches and it seems entirely irrelevant that he can never find the place he is searching for by tracing the signs. A Mobius strip, the circular blindness of the streets, and exhausted Minotaur are harbingers of the paths of this place, which only multiply behind the revolving door of the Ethnological Museum. — Ales Steger

Help me," said Jesper. "We need to barricade the entrance."
The man behind the desk wore gray scholar's robes. His nostrils were flared so wide in effrontery that Jesper feared being sucked up one of them.
"Young man - " Jesper pointed his gun at the scholar's chest. "Move."
"Jesper!" his father said.
"Don't worry, Da. People point guns at each other all the time in Ketterdam. It's basically a handshake."
"Is that true?" his father asked as the scholar grudgingly moved aside and they shoved the heavy desk in front of the door.
"Absolutely," said Wylan.
"Certainly not ," said the scholar. — Leigh Bardugo

Seven things stand before
The entrance to the Lackless door
One of them a ring unworn
One a word that is forsworn
One a time that must be right
One a candle without light
One a son who brings the blood
One a door that holds the flood
One a thing tight-held in keeping
Then comes that with comes with sleeping — Patrick Rothfuss

Language is a door. Words en-trance and are an entrance; they draw you in. When you read, the book you cradle disappears and the tales within unfold in your mind. Writing is a shelter of words and reading an interior adventure. — Laurie Seidler

The bathroom door opened and Griff emerged in a cloud of steam, the grand entrance of every B-movie alien I'd ever seen. Maybe this wasn't Griff at all but some interstellar prankster setting me up. Forget about abductions, anal probes and secret alien cookbooks - the real fun was in poking at the Earthlings' old heartaches. — Ben Monopoli

In fact, suggests Lewis, the entrance to the netherworld, where every evil will find its comeuppance, is locked from the inside, the damned souls having slammed shut every possible door that may lead the repentant sinner to God. — William Shakespeare

Out into the staff quarters. Over to the entrance to the movie theater. Tohr stopped dead. "If this is another Beaches marathon, I'm going to Bette your ass until you can't sit down."
"Aw, look at you! Trying to be finny."
"Seriously, if you have any compassion in you at all, you'll let me go to bed - "
"I have peanut M&M's up there."
"Not my style."
"Raisinets."
"Feh."
"Sam Adams."
Tohr narrowed his eyes. "Cold?"
"Downright icy."
Tohr crossed his arms over his chest and told himself he was not pouting like a five-year-old. "I want Milk Duds."
"Got 'em. And popcorn."
With a curse, Tohr yanked open the door and ascended into the dimly lit red cave. — J.R. Ward

THE HOUSE OF PAIN

Unto the Prison House of Pain none willingly

repair, -
The bravest who an entrance gain
Reluctant linger there,
For Pleasure, passing by that door, stays not to

cheer the sight.
And Sympathy but muffles sound and banishes the

light.

Yet in the Prison House of Pain things full of

beauty blow, -
Like Christmas-roses, which attain
Perfection 'mid the snow, -
Love, entering, in his mild warmth the darkest

shadows melt,
And often, where the hush is deep, the waft of

wings is felt.

Ah, me ! the Prison House of Pain ! - what lessons
there are bought ! -
Lessons of a sublimer strain
Than any elsewhere taught, -
Amid its loneliness and gloom, grave meanings

grow more clear,
For to no earthly dwelling-place seems God so
strangely near ! — Florence Earle Coates

How do we get into Blackmoor's study? Did you climb in?"
"No, he lifted me in."
"Hmm. Right, then. Vivi will have to give us a boost up."
"She will, will she?" from the booster in question.
"Well, how else do we sneak in?"
"I rather thought that we could knock on the front door and have Bingham let us in," Alex said matter-of-factly, referencing Blackmoor's ancient butler, as she led the trio around the corner of the house and toward the main entrance.
"What? We can't do that!" Ella stopped, indignant.
"Whyever not?" Vivi asked, following Alex. "It seems a perfectly acceptable way to enter. In fact, I believe I've been entering houses that way for my entire life. — Sarah MacLean

I will also talk about my experience of growing up in the former Soviet Union, where mathematics became an outpost of freedom in the face of an oppressive regime. I was denied entrance to Moscow State University because of the discriminatory policies of the Soviet Union. The doors were slammed shut in front of me. I was an outcast. But I didn't give up. I would sneak into the University to attend lectures and seminars. I would read math books on my own, sometimes late at night. And in the end, I was able to hack the system. They didn't let me in through the front door; I flew in through a window. When you are in love, who can stop you? — Edward Frenkel

The second tunnel's a Ministry of Defence tunnel ... dug for a nuclear bomb shelter. The entrance is in the garden center at Woolworth's in Great Malvern ... When the four-minute warning goes off, the Ministry of Defence lot at the RSRE'll be ferried up to Woolies by the military police. Councillors from Malvern Council'll be allowed in, so will Woolworth's manager and assistant manager. Then the military police ... They'll grab one or two of the prettier shop assistants for breeding ... Then that door'll close and all of us'll get blown to kingdom come. — David Mitchell

I have been refused entrance on the buses because I would not pay my fare at the front and go around to the rear door to enter. That was the custom if the bus was crowded up to the point where the white passengers would start occupying. — Rosa Parks

Unable to see, they were briefly seized by the characteristic Prague anxiety of never finding the entrance
of arriving at one's goal but remaining blocked from it by a wall or a stone on account of having overlooked an alley or medieval door a few dozen yards back, which has served as the approach so immemorially that no one any longer marked or described it. — Caleb Crain

I wondered how much time they'd spent practicing entrances like this one, smoothing away their rough edges and rendering them brief but potent expressions of effortless grace. I decided to stop thinking about it, and just be grateful that there was no circumstance, however, unlikely, that could put me in their place. — Seanan McGuire

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,
Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;
This it is, and nothing more. — Edgar Allan Poe

your window.' There was a click and a buzz and he pushed the door open. Dave walked through the doorway into a huge entrance hall. The light in the hall dimmed as the door closed behind him. A deep emerald green carpet engulfed the floor where he stood, and a distinctive — Victoria Browne

The office, which had an outside entrance for ordinary visitors, was separated from the parlor by a sliding door; though Mr. Clutter occasionally shared the office with Gerald Van Vleet, a young man who assisted him with the management of the farm, it was fundamentally his retreat - an orderly sanctuary, paneled in walnut veneer, where, surrounded by weather barometers, rain charts, a pair of binoculars, he sat like a captain in his cabin, a navigator piloting River Valley's sometimes risky passage through the seasons. — Truman Capote

Many of us knock on the door but remain outside, because knocking and entering are entirely different actions. Knocking is necessary, consisting of reading books, attending meetings, asking questions. But entrance requires much bolder action. It requires one to enter into himself, to uncover hidden motives, to see contradictions, and to realize his actual power for self-change. — Vernon Howard

We cross the expansive, bustling lobby of the hotel toward the entrance, but Grey avoids the revolving door, and I wonder if that's because he'd have to let go of my hand. — E.L. James

He had stood there looking around him, hunting someone, and had not found whoever it was and turned to go; but in turning, he caught sight of Emily and paused and looked at her again, and then frowned and went on out. She had not actually been introduced to him for another week. But now it seemed to her that at his entrance
swinging through the library door, carrying a single book in his hand (his fingers fine-textured and brown, his shirtcuffs so perfectly white)
her life had suddenly bee set in motion. Everything had started up, as if complicated wheels and gears had finally connected, and had raced along in a blur from then on. It was only now, in this slowed-down room, that she had a chance to examine what had happened — Anne Tyler

Amos stopped before the entrance, which was the size of a garage door - a dark heavy square of timber with no visible handle or lock. "Carter after you."
"Um, how do I - "
"How do you think?"
Great another mystery. I was about to suggest we ram Amos's head against it and see if that worked. — Rick Riordan

Will hadn't seen him come into the room. He realized that the mysterious figure must have slipped in through a side door while everyone's attention was on the Craftmasters as they made their entrance. Now he stood behind the Baron's chair and slightly to one side, dressed in his usual brown and gray clothes and wrapped in his long, mottled gray and green Ranger's cloak. Halt was an unnerving person. He had a habit of coming up on you when you least expected it - and you never heard his approach. The superstitious villagers believed that Rangers practiced a form of magic that made them invisible to ordinary people. Will wasn't sure if he believed that - but he wasn't sure he disbelieved it either. He wondered why Halt was here today. He wasn't recognized as one of the Craftmasters and, as far as Will knew, he hadn't attended a Choosing session prior to this one. — John Flanagan

Glitter and streamers of light swirled around
us, and a chorus of tiny voices sang out a single note. I
winced, knowing there was only one person who thought a
normal entrance, like walking through a door, wasn't good
enough for her; she had to announce her presence with
sparkle and glitter and St. Peter's choir. — Julie Kagawa