Best 110 quotes in «trapped quotes» category

That’s what he is—a snake, a dangerous predator—and here I am, a mouse…waiting to be devoured. Luna Ketz, Rise Above Twilight

The cork was in the bottle. He and the Atropos were trapped.

The waves thundered still onto the beach the next morning and Davy spent a good hour watching them pound the sand. It was therapeutic. He didn't know which he identified with more - the surf, raging against immovable stone outcroppings, or the rocks, taking enormous punishment without being able to strike back

The freedom to choose is the friend of natural happiness but enemy of synthetic happiness. The best way to create synthetic happiness is, therefore, to restrict your options to as few as you can. Synthetic happiness acts like our psychological immune system and helps us be happy even in adverse situations. We change our views of the world, so we can feel better about the world we find ourselves in. It works best when we’re totally stuck, when we are trapped.

The mirror's light sparks in the eyes, And horrified, my lids drawn tight, I step back to that realm of night Where not a single exit lies... (Untitled: "I pass away this life of mine...")

..the thing about depression. When I feel it deeply, I don’t want to let it go. It becomes a comfort. I want to cloak myself under its heavy weight and breathe it into my lungs. I want to nurture it, grow it, cultivate it. It’s mine. I want to check out with it, drift asleep wrapped in its arms and not wake up for a long, long time.

The future is trapped in a cage opened only by the key of genius.

The light changed slightly. Mari looked up and over at one wall. There was now a narrow, roughly door-shaped hole in it. Standing in the hole was Mage Alain. Mari stood up, realizing that her mouth was hanging open. That wall was solid. I felt it. There wasn't any opening. She watched as the Mage took two shaky steps into the cell, then paused, some of the strain leaving his face. She blinked, wondering what she had just seen, as the hole in the wall vanished as if it had never been. One moment it was there, the next it was gone. ... Mari took a long slow breath. 'They use smoke and mirrors and other 'magic' to make commons think they can create temporary holes in walls and things like that. It's all nonsense.' "Mages actually can make real holes in walls." "No." Her head hurting with increased intensity, Mari glowered at the Mage. "You didn't make a hole in the wall?" "I made the illusion of a hole in the illusion of the wall." Mari looked at Mage Alain for what felt like a long time, trying to detect any sign of mockery or lying. But he seemed perfectly sincere. And unless she had completely lost her mind, he had just walked through that solid wall. ... "We can get out the same way that you got in?" Mari asked. "Through imaginary holes in the imaginary wall?" She wondered how her guild would feel about seeing that in her report. Actually, she didn't have to wonder, but she wasn't about to turn down a chance at escape. The Mage took a deep breath and swayed on his feet. "No." "No?" "Unfortunately—" Alain collapsed into a seated position on the cot next to her—"the effort of finding you has exhausted me. There were several walls to get through. I can do no more for some time. I am probably incapable of any major effort until morning." He shook his head. "I did not plan this well. Maybe the elders are right and seventeen is simply too young to be a Mage." Mari stared at him. "Are you telling me that you came to rescue me, following a metaphorical thread through imaginary holes, but now that you're in the same cell with me you can't get us out?" "Yes, that is correct. This one erred." "That one sure did. Now instead of one of us being stuck in here, we're both stuck in here." The Mage gave her a look which actually betrayed a trace of irritation. He must have really been exhausted for such a feeling to show. "I do not have much experience with rescues. Are you always so difficult?

This feeling of lessening disturbance, coming from within myself, unexpected, was profoundly disturbing. As I sat still, growing less and less alarmed by the situation, I knew that I had to move fast, as fast and as far as I could within this small, cramped house.

the Z-particle Pure energy—no mass at all. It may well be the smallest building block in nature. Matter is nothing but trapped energy.

This is Hell, isn't it?" "The closest I've ever come," Sam replied. "But don't give up yet. We might still make it out of here." "That's the thing about Hell, once you're admitted, there is no escape.

This is Teenage madness. Trapped in a room knowing there's more outside. Trapped listening to a teacher talk about Hemingway as if each sentence and word had mythical importance. Trapped knowing she is in the room with me.

Tongue and hand tied, I was equally cut off and trapped in my own silent dark tomb.

This man suffered too much. He hated all this, and somehow he couldn't get away. When I had a chance I begged him to try and leave while there was time; I offered to go back with him. And he would say yes, and then he would remain...

To be brutally truthful, the removal of your noodle from seeking other people’s futile approval to be you, is one of the most beautiful steps to flight, where wings flap to freedom from so many deadly traps.

Trapped, cutting herself against the jagged edges of her emotions, she was a prisoner of her own spirit.

Was this strange mode of life to go on and on?

We are not trapped by our thoughts. What we generally do, however, is create thoughts that trap us.” (p.162)

What if you are just destined to get hurt, to be helplessly stuck in a point of time you no longer want to be? Maybe life is all about trying to get up while you fall a little bit deeper in the pits of hell, each time you try not to...

When you are bored, restless, longing for something more, unfulfilled, feeling like you've settled, haunted by the sense of being trapped in your own life, these are the deep waters of your soul speaking to you, telling you something is wrong, something is missing, something needs to change.

When you’re free from the shackles of solitude you never get the sense any mountain is too high to scale, or any horizon is too far to conquer.

You believe what you are and you are what you believe. This is a vicious or virtuous cycle in which we are all trapped. Our faiths and beliefs are like walls erected around us that provide us security but also act like a prison by blocking our view from the complete reality. We live in a make-believe world, oblivious to the reality that exists outside the four walls of our beliefs. The deep-rooted belief is called ‘faith’, which is responsible for many good things, but also for much of the evil in the world.

Will, what do you see when you look at that?" "A fence" "Yeah, a fence. Used to contain something, keep it trapped. A prison, perhaps." *Bends her head* "But when I look at it like THIS... to me it looks like a ladder. Which is the opposite of a fence. A ladder means escape, freedom.

Your partner may have injuries that you can't repair. Your partner may be trapped in a dark room without windows. Your life narrative might bring him more relief than an opiate. Some people make better windows than windows. Your kind words and enlightened perspective is a window of wonders to someone living in pain. pg 43

You can't magic yourself out of the situation, you've got to live it as decently and as grimly as you can.

You feel trapped by your home?” Heatherstar tipped her head questioningly. “Are we trapped by the sky, or the earth?” she asked. “Are we trapped because we need prey to live? Or water to drink? Or air to breathe? We depend on all these things, but they don’t make us feel trapped.” Her eyes burned in the darkness. “Can you imagine what your life will be like without the protection of your Clan? You will have to hunt for yourself, heal yourself if you get hurt. There will be no one to share your victories. Or your defeats.” Talltail’s ears twitched. “But I will be free.” “You will be free to discover where your heart truly lies.

You might feel lost; you might feel nothing. You might feel trapped inside and locked outside of yourself at the same time.

You’re innocent until proven guilty,” Mandy exclaimed, unable to hide her gleeful smile. She missed the way people used to have normal conversations, used to be more caring for each other than themselves, back in the Seventies and Eighties. These days, she realized, neighbors kept to themselves, their kids kept to themselves, nobody talked to each other anymore. They went to work, went shopping and shut themselves up at home in front of glowing computer screens and cellphones… but maybe the nostalgic, better times in her life would stay buried, maybe the world would never be what it was. In the 21st century music was bad, movies were bad, society was failing and there were very few intelligent people left who missed the way things used to be… maybe though, Mandy could change things. Thinking back to the old home movies in her basement, she recalled what Alecto had told her. “We wanted more than anything else in the world to be normal, but we failed.” The 1960’s and 1970’s were very strange times, but Mandy missed it all, she missed the days when Super-8 was the popular film type, when music had lyrics that made you think, when movies had powerful meanings instead of bad comedy and when people would just walk to a friend’s house for the afternoon instead of texting in bed all day. She missed soda fountains and department stores and non-biodegradable plastic grocery bags, she wished cellphones, bad pop music and LED lights didn’t exist… she hated how everything had a diagnosis or pill now, how people who didn’t fit in with modern, lazy society were just prescribed medications without a second thought… she hated how old, reliable cars were replaced with cheap hybrid vehicles… she hated how everything could be done online, so that people could just ignore each other… the world was becoming much more convenient, but at the same time, less human, and her teenage life was considered nostalgic history now. Hanging her head low, avoiding the slightly confused stare of the cab driver through the rear view mirror, she started crying uncontrollably, her tears soaking the collar of her coat as the sun blared through the windows in a warm light.

You’ve got forever, but that’s no time at all. You’ve got forever; and somehow you can’t do much with it. You’ve got forever; and it’s a mile wide and an inch deep and full of alligators.

You've got to see me, Martin. I'm to blame. I've never been quite and entirely myself with you. The situation didn't let me be. The untruthfulness infected everything. I must break out a little? Do you see at all?

A rose trapped inside a fist.

A family is a collection of strangers trapped in a web of DNA and forced to cope.

I do not like sitting idly by when something clearly isn't right. I feel... not trapped but something like it, and I don't know what to about.

I'd trapped myself in a script.... But to be scripted at all is to be prepackaged, programmed, pinned to a page. Only the unwritten can truly live a life. So who I was, what I was, had to be unwritten.

I was almost kind of trapped by my own success into only doing rock.

I knew I was having a panic attack. I hadn't had one in a while, though, and I'd forgotton how they made everything like it- and I- was going to fall apart. How they reminded me of how trapped I was.

Trapped like a trap in a trap

Those trapped in sin will not normally thank you for pointing out the darkness in their lives.

I wish to live for myself. I should never want to be trapped.

Trapped in a trap of your own making.

We're trapped in linguistic constructs... all that is is metaphor.

He was conscious of his body as a heavy cold horrible container. He had the feeling, coming to him as the memory of a dream, of being a prisoner waiting to be tortured. The extremity of pain was yet to come. And even now he was denied to comfort of self-pitying misery and warm tears.

You're safe because you're so trapped inside your culture. Anything you can conceive of is fine because you can conceive of it.

And then, with a shock like high-voltage coursing through me, the phone beside me started pealing thinly. I just stood there and stared at it, blood draining from my face. A call to a tollbooth? It must, it must be a wrong number, somebody wanted the Information Booth or-! It must have been audible outside, with all I had the slide partly closed. One of the redcaps passing by turned, looked over, then started coming across toward where I was. To get rid of him I picked up the receiver, put it to my ear. 'You'd better come out now, time's up,' a flat, deadly voice said. 'They're calling your train, but you're not getting on that one - or any other.' 'Wh-where are talking from?' 'The next booth to yours,' the voice jeered. 'You forgot the glass inserts only reach halfway down.' The connection broke and a man's looming figure was shadowing the glass in front of my eyes, before I could even get the receiver back on the hook. I dropped it full-length, tensed my right arm to pound it through his face as soon as I shoved the glass aside. He had a revolver-bore for a top vest-button, trained on me. Two more had shown up behind him, from which direction I hadn't noticed. It was very dark in the booth now, their collective silhouettes shut out all the daylight. The station and all its friendly bustle was blotted out, had receded into the far background, a thousand miles away for all the help it could give me. I slapped the glass wearily aside, came slowly out. One of them flashed a badge - maybe Crow had loaned him his for the occasion. 'You're being arrested for putting slugs in that phone. It won't do any good to raise your voice and shriek for help, try to tell people different. But suit yourself.' I knew that as well as he; heads turned to stare after us by the dozens as they started with me in their midst through the station's main-level. But not one in all that crowd would have dared interfere with what they mistook for a legitimate arrest in the line of duty. The one with the badge kept it conspicuously tilted in his upturned palm, at sight of which the frozen onlookers slowly parted, made way for us through their midst. I was being led to my doom in full view of scores of people. ("Graves For The Living")

At times I was desperate and could find no solace anywhere. Nothing seemed to work, and the weight of being trapped in my own body made it difficult to lift even a hand off the sheets.

Don't ever think you're alone here, We've just been trapped in different hells, And people aren't against you dear, They're just all for themselves.

He’d fallen in the trap before of believing she had the cold soul of an ice queen, but moments like these, it seemed more like she’d been encased a long time ago and couldn’t break free.

He really did do something to me, and I was too busy falling for it to realize what it was. Good job on a beautiful web, spider. Excerpt from Rise Above Twilight

He roars, “What have you done?” I don’t answer. My heart beats crazy happy just to see her get across the iron. She’s not burned. She’s still human. “Zara.” His voice is measured. “I need her to maintain control.” “You don’t need to be in control. You’re all trapped. So there’ll be no more stealing boys, no more shooting arrows in the woods, getting people lost. It’s all over.” The metal is cold on my fingers. Devyn grabs more wire, starts another flight. A group of pixies leaps for him, screaming, a wild, chaotic mess. They start clawing at each other, lost in fear and hunger, angry. A pixie in a pink dress shrieks when another wearing a black gown lashes at her, slashing through the skin on her arm. “Zara?” The king tries to be calm and nice. He tries to look human. It doesn’t work. “Do you know what this means? Do you know the power that I’ll lose? The need? We will fight in here. We will kill each other.” “I know,” I say and my voice shakes as I stare at him, this man who is in my blood, but not me. He is not me. Still, I understand his need, his fear. He is stuck in this awful place where there is no moral way to move forward. “I’m so sorry.” And I am.

His eyesight was possessed by the colours of trauma, cracking and bubbling like an old Super Eight film to remind him of his near-death drowning some two months ago in that very moment when he needed to act.