Quotes About Escape

the problem with books is that they end. They seduce you. They spread their legs to you and pull you inside. And you go deep and leave your possessions and your ties to the world at the door and you like it inside and you don't want for your possessions or your ties and then, the book evaporates. You turn the page and there is nothing

and the problem with books is that they end. They seduce you. They spread their legs to you and pull you inside. And you go deep and leave your possessions and your ties to the world at the door and you like it inside and you don't want for your possessions or your ties and then, the book evaporates.

I can't wait to get out of here. My parents... they act like everything since high school blows, like they'd get in a time machine if they could. IT's so sad. I mean life is all about what's next, you know?

This is why people like writing. You visit old friends without having to go on Facebook and see what they're up to and deal with what idiots call FOMO. You make them into what you want them to be, the people they could be if only they were braver, smarter.

He snorts more cocaine. I could pull over and roll him out the door but he's on so much blow right now that he would probably just turn into a roadrunner, catch up to me, and jump back in.

But then the wine came, one glass and then a second glass. And somewhere during that second drink, the switch was flipped. The wine gave me a melting feeling, a warm light sensation in my head, and I felt like safety itself had arrived in that glass, poured out from the bottle and allowed to spill out between us.

but travel, to new places where she could swim and write, while escaping the ensnaring kitchen of life, was becoming the one prospect that unfailingly brought the promise of pleasure.

I wish I could go away somewhere but the only problem with that is that I'd have to go, too.

I wish I could go away somewhere but the only problem with that is that I'd have to go, too.

Not that I've ever had much use for reality—having spent much of what I laughingly refer to as my adult life attempting to escape it with the assistance of a variety of drugs.)

If you start freaking out, call me and we'll go for a walk. Or we'll ride the night buses. We'll smoke some pot and get the giggles and eat a whole bag of chips. We'll walk up and down the alleys looking for treasure and avoiding skunks. Any of those things. None of those things. Whatever you can think of. In fact, you don't even have to think about all the silly things. I can do that too. Your girlfriend will be in charge of distractions.

So we're effectively cut off from the world with a badly injured woman and a homicidal maniac on the loose.

I have heard show business characterized as a refuge for childlike persons in flight from all things harsh and real.

She gets away from you, I am. She's as big as a lynx. Look at

Suddenly there was a month to kill. I decided I wanted to spend it in warmth, so with a hundred bucks in my shoe (good place to hide it), I stuck out my thumb and arrived in Miami two days later.

Suddenly there was a month to kill. I decided I wanted to spend it in warmth, so with a hundred bucks in my show (good place to hide it), I stuck out my thumb and arrived in Miami two days later.

The more I attempted to escape through self-consultation, self-help therapies, psychology, psychiatry, and self-analysis, the more frustrated I became.

Costa stepped out of the Jeep, smiling as if attending an exhibition where he was the featured artist. Elwood Mills handcuffed himself to the murder suspect so that Costa would not try to make an escape in the dense woods.

Sometimes, when I have to do something I don't want to do, I pretend I'm a character from a book. It's easier to know what they would do.

What's drinking? A mere pause from thinking!

There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, There is a rapture on the lonely shore.

An optimist is a fellow who believes a housefly is looking for a way to get out.

The imagination is not an escape, but a return to the richness of our true selves; a return to reality.

he was a reader and so had still available an important means of relaxation and escape.