Quotes About Escape

I run—and not so that I'll be skinny and look good, either. I run so that when something that wants to kill me is chasing me, I'll be good at running.

Think where you are, sir Knight," Nicodemus said, his mouth quirking up into a mocking smile. "The Underworld is a prison for souls. Do you think yours is so great as to escape it?" "I am not great," Michael said quietly. "But God is.

The demon trapped in the summoning circle screamed, slamming its crablike pincers against the unseen barrier, hurling its chitinous shoulders from side to side in an effort to escape the confinement. It couldn't. I kept my will on the circle, kept the demon from bursting free. Satisfied, Chauncy? I asked it. The demon straightened its hideous form and said, in a perfect Oxford accent, Quite. You understand, I must observe the formalities.

Run away. Me and Monty Python.

Come with me if you want to live.

We're ostriches and the whole world is sand.

More than anything, I wanted to crawl into a hole and pull it in after me. I wanted to be not.

I don't want to get killed. Or arrested. I'm really bad at being arrested. Or killed.

none of us ever really escapes the past. It just keeps coming back to haunt you.

The harder he ran, the more distance he temporarily placed between himself and his grief.

I found and island in your arms and country in your eyes.

Music is a safe kind of high

When reality looks too ugly, fantasize.

It's not the books by Stephen King that I read, I need protection from the things in my head . . .

We were that generation called silent, but we were silent neither, as some thought, because we shared the period's official optimism nor, as others thought, because we feared its official repression. We were silent because the exhilaration of social action seemed to many of us just one more way of escaping the personal, of masking for a while that dread of the meaningless which was man's fate.

We were silent because the exhilaration of social action seemed to many of us just one more way of escaping the personal, of masking for a while that dread of the meaningless which was man's fate.

We were that generation called "silent," but we were silent neither, as some thought, because we shared the period's official optimism nor, as others thought, because we feared its official repression. We were silent because the exhilaration of social action seemed to many of us just one more way of escaping the personal, of masking for a while that dread of the meaningless which was man's fate.

We went to get away from ourselves, and the way to do that is to drive, down through Nogales some day when the pretty green places pall and all that will move the imagination is some place difficult, some desert.

While calling at American ports was dangerous, their wharves trawled by bounty hunters, whalers were bound for the Indian and Pacific Oceans, where there were no slave masters' agents, and where desertion to the wider world was an option. So men like Johnson encouraged fugitive slaves to seek berths on the whalers of Fairhaven and New Bedford and were actively assisted by the antislavery Quaker shipowners, who had quickly established a tradition of employing black runaways as crew.

The Marsh King's Daughter by Karen Dionne until

Even the damned can dream - infact, it's part of their torment. To escape, even for a second or two, to forget reality and drift, only to be yanked back into the waking world like a fish caught on a line... Yes. In some ways that's even worse than to have no relief at all. That second of two, on awakening, when anything still seems possible

Cominci a scappare e sarai in fuga per sempre»

She felt a cage coming down around her; too late she realized that he had her trapped by the heart. And like any unwilling animal that was well and truly caught, she could escape only by leaving a piece of herself behind.

When she wanted to escape her life, she read books