Quotes About Escape

When you're in hell," murmured Yarvi, "only a devil can point the way out.

Van már terved? - Megöllek, és elbújok a holttestedben.

He would have liked to ask Tunny for his opinion. No one had better instincts for self-preservation, after all. But Tunny had, of course, followed those very instincts and slipped away as the riots worsened.

Music [is] the third rail of life. You grabbed it to shock yourself out of the dull drag of hours. To feel something. To burn with all the emotions you didn't get to experience in the ordinary run of school, TV, and loading the dishwasher after dinner.

When you feel helpless, you'll do just about any old thing to shut off your head.

If you can dream a thing, then it has a kind of reality in your thoughts. And if you dream hard enough, and have the right vehicle - a vehicle that you really love, a part of yourself - you can slip right out of reality and into that other, better, imaginary world, where the only reality is the one you allow.

Hey! I get to sleep in a library and read books all night! Without pity, where would I be? I'm a total pity s-s-ssslut.

Out of the frying pan and into the Fireman.

It's awfully good of some people to have asked me to take the job, but I'd rather read about a grand escape than plan one. Besides, I'm terrible at keeping secrets and I hate to scheme against people. It seems rude. I don't deal with guilt well and I'm worried we might hurt some feelings in the process of defending ourselves. Also, I am juggling a couple of books. Being a full-time conspirator would take away from my reading time.

They're looking for you," she told him. "I heard it on the radio." "They better be careful," he said, without looking back at her. "They might find me.

So for online people, death doesn't happen. People go online to hide from death and wind up hiding from life.

They have eighties sing-alongs after breakfast. Toto and Hall & Oates." "In that case," the Fireman said, "I think I'd rather burn alive.

the truth about music: that it was the third rail of life. You grabbed it to shock yourself out of the dull drag of hours, to feel something, to burn with all the emotions you didn't get to experience in the ordinary run of school and TV and loading the dishwasher after dinner.

He took off," Bilbo said. "Like you said he would. Caught a cab outside the lobby." "You get the cab number?" "And the license," Bilbo said, and told him both.

Terror was a fire that held you trapped in the top floor of a burning building; the only way to escape it was to jump.

a place to throw down a blanket and read a book.

lifted her gaze to the last telephone pole on the street. A mass of black balloons were caught there, snarled in the lines. The wind was wrestling to wrench them free, and they bobbled and weaved, pulling hard to escape. The wires held the balloons implacably where they were. She recoiled at the sight of them. They were dreadful – somehow they were dreadful – a dead spot in the sky.

He can run, but he can't hide.

He used books the same way he used alcohol: to pretend that he was not here, and if he was here, that he was happy for a change.

Here I am referring to the types of books that thirtyish women devour at private swim clubs, often to the dismay of their drowning children.

We broke and ran. The squirrel, however, was not a quitter. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw that it was in fact gaining on us, and Leonard's cussing was having absolutely no effect, other than to perhaps further enrage the animal, who might have had Baptist leanings. We

It was always dark in my daydreams

There's nothing to match curling up with a good book when there's a repair job to be done around the house.

There is a peculiar anonymity about being in tents. Once the zip is closed and the outside world barred from sight, all sense of location disappears.