Escape Quotes
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This is my life. Born in a generation that craves distraction and escape. We are, after all, kids trapped in adult bodies. Kinda makes you wonder how we'll change the world.
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No evil dooms us hopelessly except the evil we love, and desire to continue in, and make no effort to escape from.
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There's beauty and darkness in everything: Sorrow in joy, life in death, throns on the roses. You can't escape pain and torment anymore then you can give up joy and beauty...
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I was confident that I was a special person. But time slowly chips away at life. People don't just die when their time comes. They gradually die away, from the inside. And finally the day comes when you have to settle accounts. Nobody can escape it. People have to pay the price for what they've received. I have only just learned that truth.
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Sometimes. It was a good escape. Until, you know, it wasn‟t.
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Just as a line drawn on water with a stick will quickly vanish and will not last long; even so, brahmins, is human life like a line drawn on water. It is short, limited, and brief; it is full of suffering. One should do good and live a pure life; for none who is born can escape death.
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Sometimes I feel that every word spoken and every gesture made merely serve to exacerbate misunderstandings. Then what I would really like is to escape into a great silence and impose that silence on everyone else.
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Never give up, never escape, take everything in, and perhaps suffer, that's not too awful either, but never, never give up.
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I enjoy an easy jog. In the mountains, or the forest with my own thoughts, I can escape from the world for a bit.
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He ran like if he kept running he could escape the last thousand years.
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A stunning meditation on the power of escape, and on the cat-and-mouse contest the self plays to deflect its own guilt.
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Strive, while improving your one talent, to enrich your whole capital as a man. It is in this way that you escape from the wretched narrow-mindedness which is the characteristic of every one who cultivates his specialty alone.
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One's own escape from troubles makes one glad; but bringing friends to trouble is hard grief.
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How did I escape? With difficulty. How did I plan this moment? With pleasure!
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Music has always kind of been an escape for me.
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I can't make you understand because you don't know the meaning of fear. You have the heart of a lion and an utter lack of imagination and I envy you both of those qualities. You'll never mind facing realities and you'll never want to escape from them as I do.
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I want kids to be able to escape failing schools that trap them. And it's an unequal trapping of children. The most affluent find a way to escape. They move to a great suburban district or send their kid to a private school. The people who are trapped in the worst schools that have been terrible often for half a century? Those are the poorest kids.
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A painter is someone who can't use words. His only escape is to be a seer.
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I love books. I like that the moment you open one and sink into it you can escape from the world, into a story that's way more interesting that yours will ever be.
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If it were possible to escape from lonely experiences for a moment and stand back from the tree one would see the myriad bright worlds sparkling upon it. But only the greatest could do that. For all but the greatest their own experience was a prison house until the ending of the days. But one could know how bright was the light that carried all souls back to the light when for a moment one entered the world of a child.
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Actually I don’t need the sleep as much as I need the escape. It’s a wonderful way to escape. I think I can’t stand it and then I just take a pill and wait for sweet nothingness to take over. At this stage in my life nothingness is a lot better than somethingness.
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Many of the left thinkers that really matter to me - that formed a big part of my thinking about politics and art - emphasize how capitalism is a totality, how there's no escape from it, no outside.
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The best happiness will be to escape the worst misery.
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Confined on the ship, from which there is no escape, the madman is delivered to the river with its thousand arms, the sea with its thousand roads, to that great uncertainty external to everything. He is a prisoner in the midst of what is the freest, the openest of routes: bound fast at the infinite crossroads. He is the Passenger par excellence: that is, the prisoner of the passage. And the land he will come to is unknown—as is, once he disembarks, the land from which he comes. He has his truth and his homeland only in that fruitless expanse between two countries that cannot belong to him.
