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A window is an empty or hollow high on floor, which opens into a wall in order to provide light and ventilation to stay relevant. Also called a window to all devices used to close the span.

The term comes from the Latin ventus (wind), referring to the ventilation capacity it provides. Once the window is also called fenestra or also called "Finistra", identical to what it is called in Latin and Greek. This would be the etymological derivation directly. However, although this name is now obsolete, they are preserved words with him, and depose that means throwing someone through a window.

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Paris, July 14, 1965

Alejandrísima:

Do not be angry with me for this long silence. Rests also bind, and I've seen more than four packages of cookies tied with black thread, just crumble the monkey to display the meringues, lightning and religious, not counting the horrible (3 ft., 25 are 100 gr.) Things like that all days. Bug

far, last week we went to dinner with Laure Montmachoux and Philipppe, and everybody spoke well of you that I brought another chair and placed it just in case. Thanks to my spy system I also learned that members of the Club of piantados gather in cafes to remember his girlfriend Montesdeoka street. Your secret popularity populate the terraces of the Latin Quarter. There is a painter who signs Piza, another Arnik. There is a cocktail called Alexandra. An infamous plagario called Hesiod has published a book entitled "The Works and Days." In the backyard, under the pawlownia, plays a black cat that mimics the way you eyes wide open. You see that not could you go. [...]

It hurt your book is as much yours, so you're in every line, as reluctantly clear, so below and within. Do you know the system is to leaf through a book and go quoting verses or passages, with any comments or praise or blame? I do not like. But I will say what I feel is the same as facing some (very few) pictures or drawings surreal: I'm on the other side for a second, I have indeed happen, I am you, I'm hanging on the edge of the fabric as one of those red spiders are in Provence and have, apparently, with the Dark Alliance. Now I know (I already knew, but now I know someone who is alive, as I have ever kissed cheek) that all or almost anything can be said in very few words. [...] July

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