Quotes About Imprisonment

The criticism that was often levelled at the penitentiary system in the early nineteenth century (imprisonment is not a sufficient punishment: prisoners are less hungry, less cold, less deprived in general than many poor people or even workers) suggests a postulate that was never explicitly denied: it is just that a condemned man should suffer physically more than other men. It is difficult to dissociate punishment from additional physical pain. What would a non-corporal punishment be?

through the magical power of a dress she could see herself imprisoned in a life she did not want and would never again be able to leave. As if long ago, at the start of her adult life, she had had a choice among several possible lives and had ended up choosing the one that took her to France. And as if those other lives, rejected and abandoned, were still lying in wait for her and were jealously watching for her from their lairs.

Love without hope, as when the young bird-catcher Swept off his tall hat to the Squire's own daughter, So let the imprisoned larks escape and fly Singing about her head, as she rode by.

In no place save from the windows in the castle walls is there an available exit. The castle is a veritable prison, and I am a prisoner!

everywhere, and all locked and bolted. In no place save from the windows in the castle walls is there an available exit. The castle is a veritable prison, and I am a prisoner!

He was alone and shackled by his neck to the wall. And he had no hope. How did a man live without hope? [You hope is in Jesus Christ. Pray to your Father in that name and he will ease your pain or shorten it]. That's what Tyndale had said in his last letter. And that's what John tried to do, though he could not kneel or even bow his head from his fixed position on the wall. (p. 365)

I had never seen a prison, nor had I even imagined one, but there is a racial memory in man that instinctively knows of these things. The architecture of misery has an unmistakable look and feel about it.

Beauty is our escape from the murky flesh-envelope that imprisons us.

Somewhere Blister came up with boat rope and duct tape. He bound and gagged Yancy before sliding him under a bed. Yancy was impressed by the cleanliness of the floor—not even a dust bunny. The polished pine planks felt cool against his cheek. He shut his eyes and strained to hear the conversation of the carping fuckwits in the adjoining room.

And even now she beats her head against the bars in the same old way and wonders if there is a bigger place the railroads run to from Chicago where maybe there is romance and big things and real dreams that never go smash.

Personal lyricism is the outcry of prisoner to prisoner from the cell in solitary where each is confined for the duration of his life.

The main thing to understand is that we are imprisoned in some kind of work of art.

I heard this story once, she said, where this bloke got locked up for years and years and he learned amazin' stuff about the universe and everythin' from another prisoner who was incredibly clever, and then he escaped and got his revenge. What incredibly clever stuff do you know about the universe, Gytha Ogg? said Granny. Bugger all, said Nanny cheerfully. Then we'd better bloody well escape right now.

He looked up at them, a scruffy Napoleon with his laces trailing, exiled to a rose-trellised Elba.

If anyone locked me in a dungeon, there'd be screams.

For several years he hadn't moved outside a large, airy room, but this was OK, because he spent most of his time inside his own head in any case. There's a certain type of person it's very hard to imprison.

We put all our politicians in prison as soon as they're elected. Don't you?' 'Why?' 'It saves time.

Inside. Outside. Freedom and constraint. Earthbound. Airborne. What we see and what is reflected back can imprison us. Refraction. Do we ever see anything clearly without our own reflection getting in the way?

The war mages might have been running a full-on offensive, but she'd been right there with them. She'd sent them screaming in terror. She'd imprisoned one like a bug under glass. She'd run one the hell down. Mom, I realized in shock, had been kind of a badass.

Those who were so long imprisoned in ice and darkness seem to find the sunlight jarring, painful. The longer I walk around with this grief inside me, the more I understand that. It's as if sunshine is a slap in the face that says, Look, the world's all bright and shiny! Too bad you're not.

We are not perfect. What god is Examine yours. According to your mythos he was so disappointed with his initial efforts creating your race that he tried again. At least we imprisoned our mistakes. Your god permits his to roam free. At a mere few thousand years old your creation myths are far more absurd than ours.

Fear of the power you believe someone or something has over you is nothing but a jail cell you choose to walk into.

There is no freedom for me here.

The world is a prison in which solitary confinement is preferable.