Quotes About Escape

And books, they offer one hope - that the whole universe might open up from between the covers, and falling into that universe, one is saved.

If I could, I'd deliver you from old age and death, from aches and pains, from the blandishments of ghosts, from the torment of your familiar, Goblin. I'd deliver you from heat and cold and from the arid dullness of the noonday sun. I'd deliver you into the placid light of the moon and into the domain of the Milky Way forever.

Ben scooped her up in his arms, holding her high against his chest as he carried her back into the cottage, past the shrouded, familiar shapes of the furniture into the night-dark bedroom. They were alone now for the first time. There was no Emmett, no Harris, no lies or masquerade or motives or revenge. There was just Ben and Rachel, together in the darkness.

She came at him sideways, away from his legs, reaching down to pull the duct tape away. He didn't even notice the pain, spitting out the rag someone had put in his mouth earlier. She turned, and handed him a bottle of water. You're probably thirsty. The drug I gave you tends to make your mouth dry. No, I think that was caused by the sock someone stuffed in there, he said. Your work?

Dawn couldn't come soon enough. He had to get her out of his life as quickly as possible. It was becoming the most important thing—more important than breathing, living. He needed to get away from her, fast. Because he didn't want to let her go.

They had known each other for many years. Young Jacob had found his way onto a ship borne for the tropics, indentured to a pair of wealthy male planters, and he'd run away, ending up at the decaying ruins of La Briere, the plantation house of the de Malheurs. Lucien had been living there alone, the only survivor of a virulent outbreak of cholera, and the two young men, barely more than boys, had bonded together, determined to escape.

Stop living in a fairy tale she murmured, leaning back against the chair. I'm not a dragon, Hetty's not a princess and you're closer to a troll than an ogre. Christian laughed. Trolls are very ugly, dear heart. I may be conscienceless, degenerate, selfish and shallow but I'm actually quite pretty by all accounts. Go find our driver she muttered. The sooner we get out of here, the less likely it is that I'll kill you. I can still reach the gun.

For me, writing was the only way out.

In my opinion," Red said, "going to Florida for the winter is kind of like Ã¢â'¬Â¦ not paying your dues. Not standing fast for the hard part.

The wonderful thing about books--and the thing that made them such a refuge for the islanders during the Occupation--is that they take us out of our time and place and understanding, and transport us not just into the world of the story, but into the world of our fellow readers, who have stories of their own.

Run and hide. We're on our way.

For me, writing's the only thing that's always real. I've never regretted a day I wrote a good scene, whatever else I screwed up that day. That's what's fucking real.

The thing about opium is that it makes pain or difficulty unimaginable.

I wanted to have a make-believe world because I couldn't bear to live in the real one.

On the other hand, Franklin continued, white captives who were liberated from the Indians were almost impossible to keep at home: "Tho' ransomed by their friends, and treated with all imaginable tenderness to prevail with them to stay among the English, yet in a short time they become disgusted with our manner of life… and take the first good opportunity of escaping again into the woods.

And he sailed off through night and day And in and out of weeks And almost over a year To where the wild things are.

Life's too short is repeated often enough to be a cliche, but this time it's true. You don't have enough time to be both unhappy and mediocre. It's not just pointless, it's painful. Instead of wondering when your next vacation is, maybe you ought to set up a life you don't need to escape from.

There is a fierce joy to letting loose, to cutting yourself free from all the countless mundane threads of restraint that fix like you in your place, that tighten so gradually day by day that you do not even realize how bowed you are until you're quit of them.

We pretended to be of mud instead of stars. We pretended not to fly.

We're lost in each other, in the heart of Toronto, slow dancing to nothing but the beat of my heart and the sound of her breath on my neck. I know the subway trains are trembling beneath my feet and that we're amidst the constant buzz of city life, yet I hear nothing but my heart beating and feel nothing but her breath on my neck.

Pull over here, Bruno said. At the mall. Here? Alex Aaro scowled over his shoulder at them. You're being pursued by hit men, and you want an Egg McMuffin?

Let's get out of here, my mother said.

May I offer you some advice? I'd rather you offered me a fast horse and a head start, Richard said with a tight smile. But I'll take the advice, too.

They were Amy and Jeff Carruthers and they rode south out of Bristol, gravel chattering under the upswept fenders. After a while the man said suddenly, "Whats it like?" Amy glanced out at the fields. "Cotton. Everywhere nothing but cotton.