Best 110 quotes in «trapped quotes» category

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

Trapped in a trap of your own making.

AGAMEMNON: Oh immovable law of heaven! Oh my anguish, my relentless fate! CLYTEMNESTRA: Yours? Mine. Hers. No relenting for any of us.

Trapped like a trap in a trap

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

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

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.

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")

Ask anyone who’s transgender. They’ll tell you they’re trapped in the wrong body. But me, I’m trapped in the wrong body because I’m trapped in a body. All bodies are the wrong body.

A hungry cat does no favour to a trapped bird!

A smartphone is an addictive device which traps a soul into a lifeless planet full of lives

But you, children of space, you restless in rest, you shall not be trapped nor tamed.

Beware of being trapped in your own imaginings. You instill sparks in others, you charge them with your illusions, and when they burst forth into illuminations, you are taken in.

But walking through it all was one thing; walking away, unfortunately, has proved to be quite another, and though once I thought I had left that ravine forever on an April afternoon long ago, now I am not so sure. Now the searchers have departed, and life has grown quiet around me, I have come to realize that while for years I might have imagined myself to be somewhere else, in reality I have been there all the time: up at the top by the muddy wheel-ruts in the new grass, where the sky is dark over the shivering apple blossoms and the first chill of the snow that will fall that night is already in the air.

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.

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.

Didn’t you find it all … rather unsatisfying?” “Yes, but I couldn’t seem to see a way out. It was like being three different people, and they all wanted to go different ways.” A slight smile. “The result was I went nowhere.

Helplessness didn't have to be my identity, I wasn't condemned to it. I was willing - able - to change. Our enmeshment had been enabled by my belief that I needed [my mom] to help me, to take care of things for me - and to save me - but, back in the home where I'd learned this helplessness, I found I no longer felt that I was trapped in it.

Endless suffering and circle

Even the best buzz wears off, and you wake up more trapped than the day before.

He acted like a libertine of Europe with a genteel Southern propriety—and had all the morals of an emotionless psychopath. The two former masked the latter, like leaves covering a snare. You didn't notice the steel jaws until they were impaled in your flesh, and by then it was already far too late to run.

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 can do anything he likes and I'm so lonely, oh so lonely— And I put up with it because there was nothing else to do—

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.

How easily such a thing can become a mania, how the most normal and sensible of women once this passion to be thin is upon them, can lose completely their sense of balance and proportion and spend years dealing with this madness.

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.

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.

… I am me, but am not me: I have spent my entire life & all of its suffering both as spectator & subject. a woman trapped eternally as a child waiting for the holy father. I look pretty but feel so young, standing on the curb sucking on the lemon of the sun.

I didn't mean to hurt anyone, he tries to tell them. I just wanted to be seen, and loved for who I am. The problem was, it was all a misunderstanding. I pretended to be a good person, and then I couldn't stop.

I can't be free of this place, this haunted torture chamber echoing with thousands of years of blighted history. I can paint the walls, but I can't scrape the malice from the mortar. I can burn the curtains, but the blood splattered upon them only transitions to ash that stains the hearth.

I click to buy it and I’m furious to discover that it’s not available in Ireland and they won’t post it from abroad and the only place that sells it is Harrods and it’s impossible for me to go to Harrods because it’s like being trapped in an Escher painting.

I cannot imagine a more perfect hell than being trapped inside my own mind.

I can't see how anything can ever happen to us — I mean, I feel as if, if we leave this place, we shall crumble to pieces.

I had a dream about you last night. Our vices had wings and our fears could breathe fire. There was nowhere to hide and we were trapped alive. So you reached for your sword and slashed my arm, waking me and saving my life.

If you feel trapped quit thinking about the trap and start thinking about your value. Life favors value. Value is your way out.

I lead a worthless life, he thought, I live in unreality and untruth. If only there could be total change, regeneration, escape. If only I could run and run and get back to the people, back to where real wholesome, ordinary life is being lived. I have given myself a mean role and cannot now stop enacting it. Oh if only I could get out! But even as he thought these familiar thoughts he knew: unreality is my reality, untruth is my truth, I am too old now and I have no other way.

I have complete faith that the government will find another way to screw us over and keep us trapped in the Infected Zone.

I left the room before I could figure out exactly what bothered me about his response. Was it the way it seemed to assume a future for the two of us? A future in which I would continue to be unable to leave this house? Was it the presumption that I was making a cake for him when, really, I had no idea why I was making a cake at all?

I’ll be damned if I am getting trapped in another borough of this city!

It is as if we find ourselves on a ship in the middle of the ocean, with the captain making the point that we are free to leave.

Not a day has gone by, he said. Poor Jos. Days had gone by for me. It wasn't that I had forgotten about him, I always knew that he was out there. It just stopped seeming to matter. I was already dead. I had already moved on into this afterlife. I was someplace that he could never follow, nor would I want him to. Poor Jos. All this time, and he has been the one trapped.

I thought three minutes and twelve seconds would undo me. Now I’m trapped. I cannot survive in this elevator. Not with him, Not for much longer Another second.

I'm trapped behind a wall of fear and fear itself.

I was reading about animals a while back and there was this motherfucking scientist in France back in the thirties or forties or whenever the motherfuck it was and he was trying to get apes to draw these pictures, to make art pictures like the kinds of pictures in serious motherfucking paintings that you see in museums and shit. So the scientist keeps showing the apes these paintings and giving them charcoal pencils to draw with and then one day one of the apes finally draws something but it’s not the art pictures that it draws. What it draws is the bars of its own motherfucking cage. Its own motherfucking cage! Man, that's the truth, ain't it?

It suddenly dawned on him what he'd have to do to free her. And in his gut, he knew she wasn't going to like it. He, on the other hand… Braden licked his lips in anticipation. 'Maggie, my love, I'm going to have to get really close to you to free you.' 'I don't care what you have to do,' she said sharply. 'Just please do it and let me go.' Braden dropped his gaze down to her hips as his hunger for her grew even more, as well as another part of him that stiffened and strained, begging for her softness. Well, if that's the way she wants it… He stood directly behind her, then had to lean forward, over her back, to pull the limb off her. As he did so, his painfully aroused groin made full contact with her bottom. She gasped, then jerked her hips to where they collided fully with his swollen shaft. The action wrung a deep moan from him. 'This is a priceless sight,' Sin said from behind them. 'Should I leave you two alone?' 'Shut up, Sin,' They shouted in unison." -Braden, Maggie, & Sin

I’ve seen how cigarettes went from being advertised in every type of media to being something found to be deadly… they can’t kill me no matter how many of them I smoke but I’ve seen humans die from smoking them… if I were you I would stop smoking them.” “Why should I? You smoke ‘em all the time, you chain-smoke cigarettes,” Mandy pointed out. “Yeah, I started doing that back in the Sixties… for reasons you likely saw on those VHS tapes… but I’m not a person, I’m Pollution, things like that aren’t dangerous to me but they are to you,” Alecto told her. “It’s not a good idea.

I was trapped. The day would be hell. I would suffer. I felt I might not survive. I needed a dark, quiet room, my videos, my bed, my pills. I hadn't been this far from home in many months. I was frightened.

It’s more like ... she has grown too big and feels trapped in her own skin.

it was times like these when a man in a desperate situation must take whatever madness is offered to escape the darker madness in which he finds himself trapped.