Quotes About Confinement

The richness of the whole world reduced to a choice that was not a choice at all, but a sentence.

So many people want to label you as funny or aggressive or a mess. We are condemned by other people to stagnate in the image they have of us; held ransom by their expectations like a butterfly pinned on cardboard.

him, but of course they wouldn't allow that. She became very melancholic, and started living all by herself in the old palace. They give her everything she needs, but she doesn't go out or have visitors. Everyone says she's mad.' 'How do they know?' I asked. 'Because she's different from other people, I suppose.' 'Is that being mad?

This is the house of the closet-man. There are no rooms, just hallways and closets. Things happen in rooms. He does not like things to happen.

Bir mahpusu dünya ile hiç alakas? olmayan bir zindana kapamak ona en büyük iyili?i yapmakt?r. Onu en çok yere vuran ?ey, hürriyetin elle tutulacak kadar yak?n?nda bulunmak, ayn? zamanda ondan ne kadar uzak oldu?unu bilmektir. On ad?m ötede en büyük hürriyetlere götüren denizi dinlemek ve sonra aradaki kal?n kale duvarlar?na gözleri dikerek bakmaya, denizi yaln?z muhayyilede görmeye mecbur kalmak az azap m?d?r?

Even a ship can become a prison if all you see around you are bars.

Robert Frost captured a deep truth when he wrote, "Something there is that doesn't love a wall." Because your self-preservation instinct keeps telling you, "Unless you have walls you are not safe," unconsciously you keep building them. Later, you struggle with them. This is an endless cycle.

The walls of self-preservation that you build for today are the walls of self-imprisonment for tomorrow.

Las preocupaciones por el bienestar se concentran habitualmente en prevenir o aliviar el sufrimiento y en asegurarse de que los animales están bien alimentados y cuidados, sin cuestionarse las condiciones subyacentes de cautividad o encierro que constituyen la naturaleza real de sus vidas.

A prison does not only lock its inmates inside, it keeps all others out. Her strongest prison is of her own construction.

It's Paradise, but we can't get out of it. And anything you can't get out of is Hell.

What else can I do? Once you've gone this far you aren't fit for anything else. Something happens to your mind. You're overqualified, overspecialized, and everybody knows it. Nobody in any other game would be crazy enough to hire me. I wouldn't even make a good ditch-digger, I'd start tearing apart the sewer-system, trying to pick-axe and unearth all those chthonic symbols - pipes, valves, cloacal conduits... No, no. I'll have to be a slave in the paper-mines for all time.

Looking back on his life, he sees himself spread out on the earth like a giant covered in tiny threads that have held him down. Tiny threads of petty cares and small concerns, and fears he took seriously at the time. Debts, timetables, the need for money, the longing for comfort; the earworm of sex, repeating itself over and over like a neural feedback loop. He's been the puppet of his own constricted desires.

There had been something willed about it though, his ignorance. Or not willed, exactly: structured. He'd grown up in walled spaces, and then he had become one. He had shut things out.

I know why there is no glass, in front of the watercolor picture of blue irises, and why the window opens only partly and why the glass in it is shatter-proof. It isn't running away they're afraid of. We wouldn't get far. It's those other escapes, the ones you can open in yourself, given a cutting edge.

Those walls and bars are there for a reason,' said Crake. ' Not to keep us out, but to keep them in. Mankind needs barriers in both cases

Gain ten pounds and they put you in Solitary.

Her strongest prison is of her own construct.

I was shut up inside that doll of myself, and my true voice could not get out.

I know why there is no glass, in front of the watercolour picture of blue irises, and why the window only opens partly and why the glass in it is shatterproof. It isn't running away they're afraid of. We wouldn't get far. It's those other escapes, the ones you can open in yourself, given a cutting edge.

Non temono che ce ne andiamo di nascosto. Non arriveremmo lontano. Temono altre fughe, quelle che puoi aprirti dentro, se hai un oggetto con un bordo tagliente.

He shouldn't have let himself be caged in here, walled off from freedom. But what does freedom mean any more? And who had caged him and walled him off? He'd done it himself. So many small choices.

Una rata que está dentro de un laberinto es libre de ir a cualquier sitio, siempre que permanezca dentro del laberinto.

I did not realize the dreadful facts of life. I did not know that a pattern forms before we are aware of it, and that what we think we make becomes a rigid prison making us.