Observation.deck Quotes

You can see the most beautiful things from the observation deck of the Empire State Building. I read somewhere that people on the street are supposed to look like ants, but that's not true. They look like little people. And the cars look like little cars. And even the buildings look little. It's like New York is a miniature replica of New York, which is nice, because you can see what it's really like, instead of how it feels when you're in the middle of it.

He was dead; I needed to let his memory go, too. That was the first step for me, before discrimination. Yet my love was the ghost of a young girl's dream. It walked alone in the abyss, stubbornly, where only illusions prospered on tears and regrets. My love had a life of its own; it was perverted but nevertheless still vital. For that reason, I wanted to return to deep space. Honestly, I would have preferred it if we had traveled forever and never stopped at another star system. To fall into endless blackness, that was my new fantasy. The young girl with the ancient dream wept. I could hear her; I even saw her tears on the glass of the observation deck. It made me feel old. I didn't want to know her name. I couldn't forget Tem but I needed to forget her.

A short poem from my book: Perspective Of course there is a hell she said and it has an observation deck; so I may stand and wave to all those kind souls below who warned me I would go there.

If you dine at SkyCity, revolving just beneath the 520-foot-high observation deck, the elevator ride is free (otherwise it’s $18), but be forewarned that the restaurant is one of Seattle’s priciest (you’re paying for the million-dollar view).

I had plans. I wanted to get Thomas help. But no sooner had he left for the observation deck than Nevvie showed up with Grace. “I need your help moving Hester,” Nevvie said, and I remembered that I’d promised her we could try to put the two African elephants together today

There's more to Philadelphia than Cheesesteaks and Wawa Hoagies, Here is a list of 1 places you will love in Philadelphia: The Betsy Ross House Reading Terminal Market Boat House Row/Kelly Drive National Constitution Center Delaware River waterfront The Liberty Bell Benjamin Franklin Parkway Franklin Institute Philadelphia Museum of Art City Hall and it's Observation deck

I RODE THE turbo elevator back up to the observation deck. The moment the elevator doors swished open and I stepped into the large domed room, the odor of burning cannabis filled my nose. The smell grew increasingly stronger the farther I ventured into the room, as did the familiar strains of Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon, punctuated by fits of only slightly suppressed laughter.

Joe had never flown in an airplane, never seen a city from any higher vantage point than that afforded by his own six-foot-three frame. Now, standing on the observation deck, he looked out at the many spires of New York rising through a pall of smoke and steam and heat haze and did not know whether he found it beautiful or frightening. He leaned over the low stone parapet and peered down at miniature cars and buses and swarms of tiny people scurrying along the streets. The city below him, Joe realized, murmured. The cacophony of honking horns and wailing sirens and rumbling streetcars that had as**saulted his ears at street level were reduced up here to something gentler and more soothing, like the sonorous breathing of an enormous living thing. It was a much bigger, more connected, world than he had ever thought possible.

I have something to show you." He sank down next to me and handed me a sketchbook. I opened it. And saw the mermaid. She was drawn in colored ink, exquisitely detailed; each scale had a little picture in it: a pyramid, a rocket, a peacock, a lamp. Her torso was patterened red, like a tattoo, like coral. She had a thin strand of seaweed around her neck, with a starfish holding on to the center. Her hair was a tumble of loose black curls. She had my face. I turned the page.And another and another. There she was fighting a creature that was half human, half octopus. Exploring a cave. Riding a shark. Laughing and petting a stingray that rested on her lap. "I'm calling her Cora Lia for the moment," Alex told me. "I thought about Corella, but it sounded like cheap dishware." "She's...amazing." "She's fierce. Fighting the Evil Sea-Dragon King and his minions." I traced the red tattoo on her chest. "This is beautiful." Alex reached into my sweater, pulled the loose neck of the T-shirt away from my shoulder. I didn't stop him. "It looks like coral to me." He touched me, then,the pad of his thumb tracing the outline of the scar. It felt strange, partly because of the difference in the tissue, but more because in the last few years, the only hands that had touched me there were mine. I set the book aside carefully. "Guess I don't see what you do." "That's too bad, because I see you perfectly." I curved myself into him. "Maybe you're exactly what I need." "Like there's any doubt?" He buried his face in my neck.I didn't stop him. "So." "So?" "We'll kill a few hours, watch the sunrise, have pancakes, and you'll drive home." "What?" I felt him smile against my skin. "I got you swimming with sharks. Next on the Conquer Your Fears list is driving a stick shift.Right?" "One thing at a time," I said. Then, "Oh. Do that again." In another story, the intrepid heroine would have gone running out and splashed in the surf, hypothermia be damned. She would have driven the Mustang home, booked a haircut, taken up stand-up comedy, and danced on the observation deck of the Empire State Building. But this was me, and I was moving at my own pace. Truth: My story started a hundred years ago. There's time.

For all his courtly title, the monarch (Danaus plexippus, thank you, Madame Goody) is the most down-home of butterflies. That is, before they were virtually extirpated by air pollution and pesticides, monarchs were familiar figures in most American neighborhoods. They fluttered their zigzag course (as if under the orders of some secret navigator whose logic was as fanciful as true) across backyards and vacant lots and swimming holes and fairgrounds and streets of towns and cities: they have been spotted from the observation deck of the Empire State Building by surprised tourists from Indiana who thought they had left such creatures down by the barn. Indeed, wherever there is access to milkweed (Asclepias syriaca: let's not carry this too far, Madame G.) there you will find monarchs, for the larvae of this species is as addicted to milkweed juice as the most strung-out junky to smack. His appetite is awesome in its singularity for he would rather starve than switch.

She was young, not so much older than me A career girl in a little soignée suit and hosiery Just recently engaged She'd leapt from the 86th-floor observation deck of the Empire State Building and crash-bam-slammed into the roof of a shiny black Cadillac Which now gathered her into its folds It looked like somebody popped open a ring box An expression of pure bliss gleaming on her face A nun's ecstasy, her first and final orgasm A perfect ending, handed to the world in white gloves.

The more time I spend with her, the more I want. I take her all over Chicago, showing her the city. I take her to the Art Institute and the Cloud Gate sculpture in Millennium Park. We go shopping on the Magnificent Mile and visit the Lincoln Park Zoo. I offer to take her up to the 360 Observation Deck, knowing that she might decline since she’s not a fan of heights. But, buoyed by the success of our Ferris wheel ride, Yelena agrees to go.

Everyone knows this fairy tale: "Mirror, mirror on the wall, who is the fairest of them all?" "Why, you are, of course." In the corner of their hearts, everyone is looking for a magic mirror. If there was a mirror that would reflect the image of them as they fervently wished to be, surely everyone would treasure such a mirror for as long as they lived. On the other hand, there are mirrors that don't do that, such as concave mirrors and convex mirrors. For a long time there have been two full-length fun-house mirrors on the observation deck of the Tsūtenkaku tower in Osaka. For people from other parts of Japan who are not familiar with Osaka's fun-loving and idiosyncratic culture, why such things are in that particular place is a complete mystery; but in any case, it is amusing to play with them. When you stand in front of the concave mirror, you appear stretched out as though you are being pulled up and down by your head and your toes—as though you have been transformed into a toothpick. In front of the convex mirror it is the reverse: you look short and fat as though you have been squashed in a mechanical press. Unsightly and with short legs, you look like a comic book character. Tourists look at their distorted appearances and laugh. But how can they laugh at such warped reflections? Is it because they can relax knowing that they could not possibly look like the twisted images in the mirror? People do not believe they really look like the grossly distorted images in fun-house mirrors, so they laugh them off. However, when a magic mirror reflects an image distorted in a beautiful way, people want to think: yes indeed, this is how I really look. All of you astute readers should understand by now. The image reflected in the mirror that I am talking about in this book is the image of Japan drawn by foreigners. However, this brings up a question. What kind of a distorted image would a Japanese accept as being him or herself? What sort of a distorted image would he or she laugh off? Where exactly is the boundary between the two?

The man above remained rigid, and yet his mystery was mobile. He stood beyond the railing of the observation deck of the south tower – at any moment he might just take off. Below him, a single pigeon swooped down from the top floor of the Federal Office Building, as if anticipating the fall. The movement caught the eyes of some watchers and they followed the gray flap against the small of the standing man. The bird shot from one eave to another, and it was then the watchers noticed that they had been joined by others and the windows of offices, where blinds were being lifted and a few glass panes labored upward. All that could be seen was a pair of elbows or the end of a shirtsleeve, or an arm garter, but then it was joined by a head, or an odd-looking pair of hands above it, lifting the frame even higher. In the windows of nearby skyscrapers, figures came to look out – men in shirtsleeves and women in bright blouses, wavering in the glass like funhouse apparitions.

Across the room is a man lifting weights. His muscles are crazy big. He’s not bad on the eyes at all. “I’m telling you,” Cami says, her eyes still on Mr. Beefcake. “They should have an observation deck here, where we can sit with a glass of wine and watch the show. I’d come to the gym every day.” “I

IF YOU’VE EVER BEEN to Nearside you’ll certainly know of the Overview Effect— there are whole towers, observation decks and hotels named after it. The Overview Effect is what happens when a human being surveys Earth from a sizable distance out in space. The Apollo astronauts were the first to feel the full force of it: that mind-blowing moment

Everyone crowded onto the bus’s observation decks to watch the show. Their flat surfaces extended out from the main body of the bus like a pair of stubby wings; each surrounded by an inertial field that trapped a bubble of air for the passengers. For all practical purposes they was standing outside, directly confronting the vacuum of space. “Am I the only one feeling nervous?” Carson said. Certainly the schoolchildren seemed unperturbed. They were daring each other to peer over the edge of the deck. “I mean, how can that be safe?” “You big silly,” chided Aiyana. To Carson’s horror she ran full tilt across the deck and leapt into the black abyss. At two meters out her trajectory came to a smooth halt; the inertial field spun her around and gently returned her to the surface. After a moment of frozen shock all the schoolchild began hurling themselves into the void. From that moment she was their idol. A

as we stared out that observation deck window across the infinite stillness in which we were floating. Eliot was right when he said, “This is the way the world ends, this is the way the world ends, this is the way the world ends, not with a bang but a whimper.

And of course I had a camera on the unfolding shitshow on the observation deck.

Philadelphia has more to offer than Cheesesteaks and WAWA hoagies, Here’s a list of ten places you’ll enjoy while visiting this beautiful city of Brotherly Love. The Betsy Ross House- 239 Arch Streets Reading Terminal Market-12th and Arch Streets Boat House Row/Kelly Drive-1 Boathouse Row National Constitution Center-525 Arch St Delaware River Waterfront-121 N. Columbus Blvd The Liberty Bell-526 Market St Benjamin Franklin Parkway- Franklin Institute-222 N 20th St Philadelphia Museum of Art-2600 Benjamin Franklin Pkwy City Hall and its Observation deck-1400 John F Kennedy Blvd

Philadelphia has more to offer than Philadelphia has more to offer than Cheesesteaks and Wawa Hoagies Here’s a list of ten places to visit and you’ll never regret visiting this beautiful city of Brotherly Love. The Betsy Ross House- 239 Arch Streets Reading Terminal Market-12th and Arch Streets Boat House Row/Kelly Drive-1 Boathouse Row National Constitution Center-525 Arch St Delaware River Waterfront-121 N. Columbus Blvd The Liberty Bell-526 Market St Benjamin Franklin Parkway- Franklin Institute-222 N 20th St Philadelphia Museum of Art-2600 Benjamin Franklin Pkwy City Hall and its Observation deck-1400 John F Kennedy Blvd and WaWa Hoagies Here’s a list of ten places to visit and you’ll never regret visiting this beautiful city of Brotherly Love. The Betsy Ross House- 239 Arch Streets Reading Terminal Market-12th and Arch Streets Boat House Row/Kelly Drive-1 Boathouse Row National Constitution Center-525 Arch St Delaware River Waterfront-121 N. Columbus Blvd The Liberty Bell-526 Market St Benjamin Franklin Parkway- Franklin Institute-222 N 20th St Philadelphia Museum of Art-2600 Benjamin Franklin Pkwy City Hall and its Observation deck-1400 John F Kennedy Blvd

Had it ever really happened? Had I fallen in love with a tall, dark, handsome stranger? The only things that made it seem real were the sickeningly empty hole in my chest where my heart had been… and the solitary figure on the topmost observation deck, who stood and watched me leave him.

others all have fountains or parks!” “Okay,” Reynie said, rubbing his chin, “so they’re to meet in the square, by the statue, on the south side—I think we can agree that south is the opposite of north—and, well, I guess the opposite of noon must be midnight, right?” “We’ve done it!” said Kate. “We’ve figured out their rendezvous! Oh, and this is perfect—the observation deck of the Pittfall Building is on that square, and it gives a direct view of that statue! It’s even on the south side! If I go up there—” “You?” Reynie said. “Oh, well, Milligan then. Whoever. The point is you would be in a perfect spot to spy on their rendezvous without being seen yourself. It’s all glassed in with reflective windows and everything. We couldn’t have asked for a better setup! This is going to work out brilliantly!” It did seem perfect. The only catch was that no one knew about the rendezvous but them. Mr. Benedict still had not shown up, and midnight was less than an hour away. What if he was still asleep, wherever he was? What if he was awake but something had happened? What if he was trying to come to the library but was delayed? What if he wasn’t coming at all? After mulling these possibilities over, Kate jumped up. “Sorry, but I just can’t risk it! I can’t sit here and give up what may be our last chance to stop Mr. Curtain. I have to go! You three can tell Mr. Benedict everything when he comes. I’ll be careful, I promise!” She was already strapping her bucket to her belt. “You aren’t serious, are you?” Sticky said. “Oh, wait, it’s you—of course you’re serious.” “It’s only eight blocks,” Kate said. “I can be there in no time.

to a lounge cum galley that evidently doubled as an observation deck.

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Philadelphia's charm extends far beyond its famous cheesesteaks and hoagies; these ten must-visit spots will help you experience the true heart of the City of Brotherly Love. The Betsy Ross House Reading Terminal Market Boat House Row/Kelly Drive National Constitution Center Reading Terminal Market The Liberty Bell Benjamin Franklin Parkway Franklin Institute Philadelphia Museum of Art City Hall and its Observation deck