Quotes About Escape

the room had grown smothery. He wanted to be out in some cool and bitter breeze, miles above the cities, and to live serene and detached back in the corners of his mind

I suppose books mean more than people to me anyway

smoking had come to be an important punctuation mark in the long sentence of a day on the road.

Gloria was sure she wanted but to read and dream and be fed tomato sandwiches and lemonades by some angelic servant

I used to wonder why they kept princesses in towers

Life rose around my island like a sea, and presently I was swimming.

Durante un tiempo estos sueños fueron un escape para su imaginación; le daban una idea satisfactoria de la irrealidad de la realidad, una promesa de que el peñón del mundo estaba asentado de manera firme en el ala de un hada.

For a while these reveries provided an outlet for his imagination; they were a satisfactory hint of the unreality of reality, a promise that the rock of the world was founded securely on a fairy's wing.

In the square, as they came out, a suspended mass of gasoline exhaust cooked slowly in the July sun. It was a terrible thing - unlike pure heat it held no promise of rural escape by suggested only roads choked with the same four asthma.

Books mean more than people to me anyway.

Not only for that night but for the days and weeks that followed his books were to be but furniture and his friends only people who lived and walked in a nebulous outer world from which he was trying to escape.

Gloria was sure she wanted but to read and dream and be fed tomato sandwiches and lemonades by some angelic servant still in a shadowy hinterland. Between paragraphs Anthony would come and kiss her as she lay indolently in the hammock….

I had a dog—at least I had him for a few days until he ran away

The Future never spoke— Nor will he like the Dumb Reveal by sign a Syllable Of his profound To Come— But when the News be ripe Presents it in the Act— Forestalling Preparation— Escape—or Substitute EMILY DICKINSON

Fortunately, there is more to life than death. There is for one thing, fiction. A thousand thousand characters to be sent marching out into the world to divert time from its forward gallop to the terrible horizon.

it's time to hit the road.

The essence of what I desire is simply this: to sleep away life.

I am the escaped one, After I was born They locked me up inside me But I left. My soul seeks me, Through hills and valley, I hope my soul Never finds me.

I never tried to be anything other than a dreamer. I never paid any attention to people who told me to go out and live. I belonged always to whatever was far from me and to whatever I could never be. Anything that was not mine, however base, always seemed to be full of poetry. The only thing I ever loved was pure nothingness.

My dreams are a stupid shelter, like an umbrella against lightning.

Art frees us, through illusion, from the squalor of being.

Literature is the most agreeable way of ignoring life

Where can one think of fleeing, if the cell is everything? And

Creeds, ideals, a woman, a profession – all are prisons and shackles.