Quotes About Escape

Daryl shrugged. "If wishes were wardrobes, we'd be in Narnia.

A wise man, recognizing that the world is but an illusion, does not act as if it is real, so he escapes the suffering.

I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can.

I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people's hats off—then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can.

I stand alone here upon an open sea, with two oceans and a whole continent between me and law.

street, and methodically knocking people's hats off—then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can.

whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people's hats off—then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can.

these are all landsmen; of week days pent up in lath and plaster — tied to counters, nailed to benches, clinched to desks. How then is this? Are the green fields gone? What do they here?

flight from tyranny does not of itself insure a safe asylum, far less a happy home.

Call me Ishmael. I am a schoolmaster, and whenever life got me down, I would leave my job and head for one special place. When my spirits needed restoring, I could always count on the sea.

Gürültüden kaçmak, kendini kitlenin uÄŸultusuna, o bir yanarda??nkini and?ran, yeralt?ndan gelen, hiç bitmeyecekmiÅŸ gibi aral?ks?z süren, tembel dalgalar halinde alana yay?lan uÄŸultuya kapamak için art?k hayattan kopar?l?rcas?na al?n?p götürülme düÅŸüncesi, hiç kuÅŸkusuz çekici gelen bir düÅŸünceydi;

Going home does not come naturally to me. If my father's medium was silence, mine had tended to be escape. But there's no future in escape because the world is round. So the faster you run away, the faster you end up, right back where you started, face to face with whatever you were running from in the first place. Your worst fears, they're always the most patient. They'll wait up for you. That's what makes them the worst.

Ah my friend, if you and I could escape this fray and live forever, never a trace of age, immortal, I would never fight on the front lines again or command you to the field where men win fame.

The man does better who runs from disaster than he who is caught by it.

Ah my friend, if you and I could escape this fray and live forever, never a trace of age, immortal, I would never fight on the front lines again or command you in the field where men win fame. But now, as it is, the fates of death await us, thousands poised to strike, and not a man alive can flee them or escape – so in we go for attack! Give our enemy glory or win it for ourselves!

No man is going to hurl me to Hades, unless it is fated, but as for fate, I think that no man yet has escaped it once it has taken its first form, neither brave man nor coward.

As in a dream a man is not able to follow one who runs 200  from him, nor can the runner escape, nor the other pursue him, so he could not run him down in his speed, nor the other get clear.

Finding him absent, they broke into the cave; the men tried to persuade Odysseus to steal Polyphemus' cheese and animals and then make a quick escape. Odysseus insisted on staying. When the Cyclops came home, Odysseus demanded a gift;

Man, supposing you and I, escaping this battle, would be able to live on forever, ageless, immortal, so neither would I myself go on fighting in the foremost 325  nor would I urge you into the fighting where men win glory. But now, seeing that the spirits of death stand close about us in their thousands, no man can turn aside nor escape them, let us go on and win glory for ourselves, or yield it to others.

Tis the land of Fancy, and is of that pleasant kind that, when you tire of it,—whisk!—you clap the leaves of this book together and 'tis gone, and you are ready for every-day life, with no harm done.

As he left home on 12 July, a hot Sunday of the Madrid summer, Castillo was shot dead by four men with revolvers, who swiftly escaped into the crowded streets.24

Every now and then when your life gets complicated and the weasels start closing in, the only cure is to load up on heinous chemicals and then drive like a bastard from Hollywood to Las Vegas ... with the music at top volume and at least a pint of ether.

It was like falling down an elevator shaft and landing in a pool full of mermaids.

A little bit of this town goes a very long way. After five days in Vegas you feel like you've been here for five years.