Quotes About Escape

Every book is a time machine, a flying carpet, a passport to the most powerful nation in the world....... your imagi-nation!

Little Man turned around and watched saucer-eyed as a bus bore down on him spewing clouds of red dust like a huge yellow dragon breathing fire. Little Man headed toward the bank, but it was too steep. He ran frantically along the road looking for a foothold and, finding one, hopped onto the bank, but not before the bus had sped past enveloping him in a scarlet haze while laughing white faces pressed against the bus windows. Little

Some gender dysphoric children just want to escape or hide from their tormentors and the world in general. They spend every free moment at home with the door locked or at the library with their head buried in a book. The latter may result in very good grades, for scholastic endeavors are the one area in which they feel they can excel.

The villain still pursued her.

However, the players also came to escape the eerily quiet streets where few said hello, to keep away from the loveless homes where wives slept with children instead of husbands, and to avoid the overheated rush-hour train cars where it was okay to push but not okay to talk to strangers.

My version of an Irish exit has an air of deception to it, because it includes my asking loudly, "Where's the bathroom?" and making theatrical looking-around gestures like a lost foreign tourist. But then, instead of finding the bathroom, I sneakily grab my coat and leave.

I enter the party with my heart racing, scrambling to find the nearest bar, and ultimately wind up talking for hours to the teenage daughters of the host, who love The Office. After answering all the girls' questions about John Krasinski, I say I need to use the restroom, secretly exit through the back, and sprint to my car, never to be heard from again.

I knew that the best way to get out of chores, or sports, or talking to elderly relatives on the phone was by holding up a book and saying, "But I'm just enjoying Little House on the Prairie so much!

Por fin era yo haciendo de yo y mirando con mis ojos la carretera, los árboles, la puesta de sol. Respiré aliviado. Volvía a reconocerme. Pensé en que yo siempre había usado la motocicleta para alejarme del grupo, para ser individuo.

I don't want to be the person who gasps in fear whenever she hears the sound of a doorbell or a phone. I just want to lose myself in these hills, in the river winding west to the city of bridges.

We had loved people we really shouldn't have loved and then married other people in order to forget our impossible loves, or we had once called out hello into the cauldron of the world and then run away before anyone could respond.

We had loved people we really shouldn't have loved and then married other people in order to forget our impossible loves, or we had called out hello into the cauldron of the world and then run away before anyone could respond.

Art has no meaning if it's not an escape. If it's not born of a prisoner's despair. I can't respect any art that comforts and relieves, those novels and music and paintings designed to make your prison more bearable.

We are like people drawn inside of a square on a piece of paper. We cannot get out of the black lines, we exhaust ourselves by examining every part of the square, hoping to find a fissure. Until one of us suddenly understands, because he was predestined to understand, that within the plane of the paper escape is impossible. That the exit, simple and open wide, is perpendicular to the paper, in a third dimension that up until that moment was inconceivable.

Butterflies add another dimension to the garden, for they are like dream flowers - childhood dreams - which have broken loose from their stalks and escaped into the sunshine.

Libraries. How I love them. My source of stories. And solitude.

Mitchell Zuckoff

run, run, you can't get away, the monk can run but the temple will never get away!

Deceived on all sides, overwhelmed with injustice, I will fly from an abyss where vice is triumphant, and seek out some small secluded nook on earth, where on may enjoy the freedom of being an honest man.

A quienes me preguntan la razón de mis viajes les contesto que sé bien de qué huyo pero ignoro lo que busco

I am strongly moved to fly into some desert to avoid all approach of human creatures

I loved books. Loved reading. It not only gave me an escape from my own world, but opened a door into other worlds. It allowed me, at the beginning of my marriage, to suffer with some grace. As long as I had another world to go to, what did I care about how small and strange and terrifying my own life had gotten?

Writing is a cop-out. An excuse to live perpetually in fantasy land, where you can create, direct and watch the products of your own head. Very selfish.

That night, JoAnn didn't want to leave, but she knew she had to go. She understood, in that quiet hour, things that only people who've walked to the edge know. Dying seemed almost compassionate - a way to escape the living hell. (283)