Quotes About Confinement

Sometimes, it is nearly impossible to look beyond the parameters of the boxes we put ourselves in.

sounds uncomfortably like a prison.

I don't want to work, but I have buoys of cork in my stomach. They won't let me go down, will they?

That was what happened to laughter when you caged it. It became unbearably sad. It was worse than crying.

The city outside there has no name yet, we don't know if it will remain outside the novel or whether the whole story will be contained within its inky blackness. I know only that this first chapter is taking a while to break free of the station and the bar: it is not wise for me to move away from here where they might still come looking for me, or for me to be seen by other people with this burdensome suitcase.

Il passato (proprio per il fatto d'avere un'immagine così compiuta nella quale non si poteva pensare di cambiar nulla come in quel dormitorio) gli pareva una gran trappola. E il futuro, quando ci se ne fa un'immagine (cioè lo si annette al passato), diventava una trappola esso pure.

A second major illusion on which the school system rests is that most learning is the result of teaching. Teaching, it is true, may contribute to certain kinds of learning under certain circumstances. But most people acquire most of their knowledge outside school, and in school only insofar as school, in a few rich countries, has become their place of confinement during an increasing part of their lives.

I want to commit the murder I was imprisoned for.

He had built his own future brick by brick around himself but there were no doors or windows, at least that was the way it seemed at the time he had thought to himself, I am locked in, it was like one of those ghost stories where you wake up and you are sealed in a coffin.

Prison always has been a good place for writers, killing, as it does, the twin demons of mobility and diversion

Melancholic madness strapped to your chest and you have no way of releasing the fear.

I reached the point where I was getting arrested all the time in London. I couldn't walk down the street. London becomes a very small village, eventually. You run out of places. It was inescapable.

Through my mind, is just the horror of these people. I had been held by them, I knew how violent they were.

Visibility doesn't always equal freedom.

a person could walk around in a prison of his or her own making and never be behind bars.

She had closed him up in a mental box and he was supposed to stay there, dammit. Nothing more than a lovely fantasy she pulled out along with her vibrator from time to time.

Ge kunt soms gedachten hebben die niet te dragen zijn tusschen vier muurkens. Die zoo geweldig groot zijn dat ge aan uw deurken moet, of anders zou uw kop openklakken.

What people mistook for safety was in fact captivity.

This was a walled world. With a pretense of control, without the reality of it.

Dr. Spiro seems to think I don't know how to behave in a mental institution.

Well basically,' said Nell, 'I want to question the value of confinement. An enclosed community is toxic. It festers. It stagnates. The wrong people thrive there. The sort of people who actually like being walled in.

The sequestering of the family in the big house feels to those within the walls like a strange curtailment of their liberty. To those in the village it is no great novelty. For them, even before the wall's building was complete, to stray about the park, without express permission, was to risk having a leg bitten off by a mantrap. Prisoners lament their confinement. Sometimes to be at large is an equal deprivation

He remembered learning in one of his social studies classes that in the Old West, when Native Americans were thrown into jail, they sometimes dropped dead. The theory was that someone so used to the freedom of space couldn't handle the confinement, but Peter had another interpretation. When the only company you had was yourself, and when you didn't want to socialize, there was only one way to leave the room.

Sometimes Josie thought of her life as a room with no doors and no windows. It was a sumptuous room, sure-a room half the kids in Sterling High would have given their right arm to enter-but it was also a room from which there really wasn't an escape. Either Josie was someone she didn't want to be, or she was someone who nobody wanted.