Fiona Apple Quotes

What use would wings be to a man bound in iron fetters? They would only drive him to even greater despair.

Of what use were wings to a man fast bound in chains of iron?

Anything you rely on can become a crutch. And disabled or not, when you rely on something, that is what will cripple you.

Any man can be defeated.

There's no way out of here.

People are often unable to do anything, imprisoned as they are in I don't know what kind of terrible, terrible, oh such terrible cage.

No bird in a cage ever speaks. What is there to say? The sky is everywhere, churning above its head, blue and endless, calling out to it. But the caged bird can't answer anything except 'I cannot'.

Weakness is constant strain and misery: weakness is death.

The formula for prison is a lack of space counterbalanced by a surplus of time. This is what really bothers you, that you can't win. Prison is lack of alternatives, and the telescopic predictability of the future is what drives you crazy.

To arrive is to be in prison.

I'm still vulnerable and still weak.

My cage has many rooms.

As one grows weaker one is less susceptible to suffering. There is less hurt because there is less to hurt.

Many have never felt strong, but everyone knows what it is to feel weak.

There can be many bars, wires that keep a person trapped. All of them don't have to have been created for the purpose of harming or caging the bird, but they still serve that function.

A jailer is as much a prisoner as his prisoner.

Your arm is unvanquished, but not invincible.

A bird on a tether, no matter how long the rope, can always be pulled back.

I want to weep, she thought. I want to be comforted. I'm so tired of being strong. I want to be foolish and frightened for once. Just for a small while, that's all....a day.....an hour.

If the bird does like its cage, and does like its sugar and will not leave it, why keep the door so very carefully shut?

Even if you managed to escape from one cage, weren't you just in another, larger one?

I tried to think of my knowledge, but it was a squirrel's heap of winter nuts. There was no strength in my knowledge any more and I felt small and naked as a new-hatched bird.

I have no way and therefore want no eyes I stumbled when I saw. Full oft 'tis seen our means secure us, and our mere defects prove our commodities.

There is one kind of prison where the man is behind bars, and everything that he desires is outside; and there is another kind where the things are behind the bars, and the man is outside.

Be aware that rigidity imprisons.