Quotes About Confinement

But in the end, time is a noose around the neck, strangling slowly.

like insects on a rubber sheet, we live in a universe whose true form is hidden from direct view.

Reacher was led through the door on the left and onward to an interview room. Which had no windows. Just four blank walls, and a table bolted to the floor, with two chairs on one side and one on the other. The room had not been designed by the dining room guy. That was clear. There was no blond wood or carpet. Just scuffed white paint on cinder block, and a cracked concrete floor, and a fluorescent bulb in a wire cage on the ceiling.

different sort. The gravity squeezed out the freedom. It felt like one strike and you're out. One attempt at a theory. Neagley said, "Every avenue comes back to the exact same

The cell was very dark. I could just about see a bunk bed, a sink and a john.

From time to time they move you around from one cell to another, and that's always a big deal in your life. Your cell is just about all you've got, your only refuge. Like an animal's cage, it's your home — a home that would make anyone envy the homeless.

You too are an exile, I thought. You morn for the broad open steppes where you have room to spread your icy wings. Here you feel stifled and constricted, like an eagle that cries and beats against the bars of its iron cage.

How she longed to get out of that dark hall, and wander about among those beds of bright flowers and those cool fountains, but she could not even get her head though the doorway; 'and even if my head would go through,' thought poor Alice, 'it would be of very little use without my shoulders. Oh, how I wish I could shut up like a telescope! I think I could, if I only know how to begin.

I must be shutting up like a telescope.

and had to stoop to save her neck from being broken. She hastily put down the bottle, saying to herself 'That's quite enough—I hope I shan't grow any more—As it is, I can't get out at the door—I do wish I hadn't drunk quite so much!

How terrible it is to have no cares, no longings. I do not fit. I feel too deeply and want too much. As cages go, it is a gilded one, but I shall not live well in it or any cage, for that matter.

We're like pretty horses, and just as on horses, they mean to put blinders on us so we can't look left or right but only straight ahead where they would lead.

The ladies pass the timee with gossip and hearsay. This is what they have in place of freedom- gime and gossip. Their lives are small and careful. I do not wish to live this way. I should like to make my mark. To venture opinions that may not be polite or even correct but are mine nonetheless. If I am to be hanged for anything, I should like to feel that I go to the gallows on my own strength.

approached alone, the hallway too small, the rooms too tightly bunched

Our modern society is engaged in polishing and decorating the cage in which man is kept imprisoned.

Man can be chained, but he cannot be domesticated.

The limited circle is pure.

In an unjust society the only place for a just man is prison.

I feel that if I ever did adjust to prison, I could by that alone never adjust to society.

Be empty of worrying. Think of who created thought! Why do you stay in prison When the door is so wide open?

I can´t get out of the box, while keeping God in the box.

Hell is the incapacity to be other than the creature one finds oneself ordinarily behaving as.

Take one sexually inept wage-slave,'" she went on, "'one dissatisfied female, two or (if preferred) three small television-addicts; marinate in a mixture of Freudism and dilute Christianity; then bottle up tightly in a four-room flat and stew for fifteen years in their own juice.

Home, home - a few small rooms, stiflingly over-inhabited by a man, by a periodically teeming woman, by rabble of boys and girls of all ages. No air, no space; an understerilized prison; darkness, disease and smells.