Caged Quotes

Better make sure you’re not in my way when I go down.” My eyebrow lifted as I dipped my head to his level. “You wouldn’t want to get squashed.

Buried emotions are caged nighthawks that have fallen in love with the moon. They don’t understand the sun because they were born with the darkness of shadows in their soul.

A victim has the potential to transform into a survivor, but if that is forgotten, a true victim is what they become. A survivor must endure strife and persevere against those thoughts that would convince them otherwise. Holding fast to ones will will allow them to know their strength has not evaporated; They will never be without hope.

No poem of mine will, be as beautiful as the one; I create on your lips.

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

In that smooth fortress of glass, I caught a glimpse of my corruption gripping steel, which before I had thought of as my salvation, but now represented my obliteration.

These were people who hunted for a way to erase the haunted, malnourished gaze from their souls and replace it with their faith in freedom and safety.

The melodious song mesmerized me and cloaked my soul in a most liberating embrace I had never known. The emotion enveloped me, and smothered the emptiness.

The soul is like a caged bird, it waits for the right person to open the door and set it free.

Break free from the binding robes of passion that feels like a lump in your heart, perform that surgery today, and you'll be set free forever.

I have never heard of an electromagnetically hypersensitive person recovering from the condition using shielding and Faraday cages, they just seem to become social lepers due to their increasing reactivity to the city environment and addicts to their shielded environment.

Sure, swing your oscillating dick over there, and see how long you last before she runs screaming for the authorities.

What do you fear, lady?" [Aragorn] asked. "A cage," [Éowyn] said. "To stay behind bars, until use and old age accept them, and all chance of doing great deeds is gone beyond recall or desire.

I slept under the moonlight and set my soul free, caged within jars like fireflies".

You must not let me out,' it warned him gently, as it saw his eyes rest on the lock.'If you release me now that I know my nature, I could not help but unmake the enchantment of the mirrors. You see, they are tame now and they show only what people want and need to see in them. The wildness of them is bound up in my form, though I did not know it for a long time. If I were uncaged, I could not help but tear at the enchantment until I was unnamed. Then I would fly into all of the mirrors and windows and into shining footpaths after rain. The mirrors would become wild and they would be absolutely, utterly truthful. Everything would be seen for what it truly was. My laughter would greet every lie and every pretense. It would rumble like a volcano under the smooth surface of everything. You can imagine the chaos it would cause here, for those who dwell in the greylands do so because the mirrors are tamed. If I were free, people would come to be afraid of them. They would cease to believe in their reflections and eventually they would no longer believe in themselves. No, laughter must remain caged here.

Death is deceitful, pretending that peace is on the horizon. The truth is that chaos is left in its wake, claiming the souls of those stranded in life. Death is the enemy of love in its purest form. It's the one thing that can tear our souls out and rip our hearts to pieces. The miraculous part of this process is that all it needs to do is extinguish a single, solitary breath. That's all it takes to steal the future of someone; someone who deserves to live more than all the others. If only I could capture that breath before it was taken to replace it with my own.

No free man needs a God; but was I free?How fully I felt nature glued to meAnd how my childish palate loved the tasteHalf-fish, half-honey, of that golden paste!My picture book was at an early ageThe painted parchment papering our cage:Mauve rings around the moon; blood-orange sun;Twinned Iris; and that rare phenomenonThe iridule - when, beautiful and strange,In a bright sky above a mountain rangeOne opal cloudlet in an oval formReflects the rainbow of a thunderstormWhich in a distant valley has been staged -For we are most artistically caged.

Who can be your killer or who can kill you and how they react??Nice question, I just look as a killer, so here is how it goes a killer can be everyone he probably can want to kill you, then somebody kill him and then this person wants to kill you... Isn't it a reverse???Mind Hunters is a film about reverse, if you wanna check out this film!?The killers are silent and react fact, think double, think in such way that to be caged... awesome isn't it??

Key the mind, and set the soul free.

Once I was free; there was no cage that could bind me, and I had yet to create my box of numbness within my mind to be my silent protector.

Some birds are not meant to be caged, that's all. Their feathers are too bright, their songs too sweet and wild.

The walls that caged me were not of this world, but were within my mind.

She kills her words, but somehow the feeling survives. And no matter where she buries them, he always sees them in her eyes.

Men have hitherto treated women like birds which have strayed down to them from the heights; as something more delicate, more fragile, more savage, stranger, sweeter, soulful – but as something which has to be caged up so that it shall not fly away.