Quotes About Escape

I attempt from love's sickness to fly.

A lot of my songs are fantasy. I can dream up all kinds of things. That's the kind of world I live in. It's very sort of flamboyant, and that's the kind of way I write. I love it

History is a nightmare from which I am trying to awake.

You need to bridge the gap between reality and freedom. Drugs are the bridge.

Just hold on. Just for a minute." "Are you all right ?" I found my gaze dropping towards his chair, afraid some part of him was pinched, or trapped, that I had got something wrong. "I'm fine. I just...I don't want to go in just yet. I just want to sit and not have to think about...I just...want to be a man who has been to a concert with a girl in a red dress. Just for a few minutes more...

I always think this is the kind of place that people come back to. When they've become tired of everything else. Or when they don't have enough imagination to go anywhere else.

Liv runs. Every morning, and some evenings too. Running has taken the place of thinking, of eating, sometimes of sleeping. She runs until her shins burn and her lungs feel as if they will explode...She plugs in her iPod earphones, closes the door of the block, rams her keys into the pocket of her shorts, and sets off at a pace. She lets her mind flood with the deafening thumping beat, dance music so relentless that it leaves no room for thought.

You came for a romantic weekend to Paris. In your flip-flops.

it's not enough for you to sit on your arse for the rest of your life. But it should buy you your freedom, both from that claustrophobic little town we both call home, and from the kind of choices you have so far felt you had to make.

I always think this is the kind of place that people come back to. When they've got tired of everything else. Or when they don't have enough imagination to go anywhere else.

I didn't tell her about the days when it felt like a peculiar form of torture to work somewhere where I was forced to watch each plane taxi on the runway, gather its energy like a great bird, then launch itself into the sky.

and when he kissed me back all of this vanished and it was just Will and me, on an island in the middle of nowhere, under a thousand twinkling stars.

I would honestly have changed my flight, perhaps even disappeared until I could make sure that there was between us a whole continent, not just a few impossible inches.

wondering if there was any way I could get to my car without passing him, but it was hopeless.

and best of all, the wilderness of books, in which she could wander, where she liked, made the library a region of bliss to her. • LOUISA MAY ALCOTT, Little Women

I don't want to go in just yet. I just want to sit and not have to think about…" He swallowed. Even in the half-dark it seemed effortful. "I just…want to be a man who has been to a concert with a girl in a red dress. Just for a few minutes more.

Lo besé, respirando el aroma de su piel, sintiendo su suave pelo bajo los dedos y cuando me devolvió el beso todo desapareció y quedamos únicamente Will y yo, en una isla en medio de ninguna parte, bajo miles de estrellas titilantes.

Sometimes I feel I could stay in the woods for ever.' He nodded. 'I often think,' he said, 'that when you're out here at daybreak you can pretend you're the only person in the world.

I guess lyrically they're similar because they're talking about escaping the kind of misery that likes company. 'The Last One Alive ' for me, is very simple. It's just about alienation, really, that causes anger.

When I go on stage man I just want people to have fun, I don't want people to think about their problems, I want people to get energy and nutrition and food from that so they can go back into the real world and work on their problems.

We like companionship, see, but we can't stand to be around people for very long. So we go get ourselves lost, come back for a while, then get the hell out again.

The village may have replaced "the state," and it in turn may have replaced the fist with the hug, but an unwanted embrace from which you cannot escape is just a nicer form of tyranny.

Reading a book, for me at least, is like traveling in someone else's world. If it's a good book, then you feel comfortable and yet anxious to see what's going to happen to you there, what'll be around the next corner. But if it's a lousy book, then it's like going through Secaucus, New Jersey -- it smells and you wish you weren't there, but since you've started the trip, you roll up the windows and breathe through your mouth until you're done.

Opening his arms he said quietly to her, "Disappear here.