Emotional Confinement Quotes

I am a cage, in search of a bird.

I tried to be a good wife, but I was lost in my gilded cage.

The worst prison would be a closed heart.

In the hands of the ego, marriage is a prison. It is exclusive. It is a place where people are constantly reminded of their failures and limited by the energies of another person. It is rife with judgment and blame.

Women have no wilderness in them They are provident instead Content in the tight hot cell of their hearts To eat dusty bread.

When I have a girlfriend, I feel caged in, I don't know why.

I'm in a glass case of emotion

Hell is a state of mind -- ye never said a truer word. And every state of mind, left to itself, every shutting up of the creature within the dungeon of its own mind -- is, in the end, Hell. But Heaven is not a state of mind. Heaven is reality itself. All that is fully real is Heavenly.

Family, monogamy, romance. Everywhere exclusiveness, a narrow channelling of impulse and energy.

I feel like I've been locked up tight for a century, waiting for someone to release me.

While the mind remains so fixed in its own personal affairs, be they little or large, it has no chance to open up its higher levels. When attention and emotion are kept so confined, the chance they offer of this higher use is missed. The peace, truth, and goodness which could be had are untouched.

We are all living in cages with the door wide open.

She felt a cage coming down around her; too late she realized that he had her trapped by the heart. And like any unwilling animal that was well and truly caught, she could escape only by leaving a piece of herself behind.

A prison does not only lock its inmates inside, it keeps all others out. Her strongest prison is of her own construction.

If love closes, the self contracts and hardens: the mind having nothing else to occupy its attention and give it that change and renewal it requires, busies itself more and more with self-feeling, which takes on narrow and disgusting forms, like avarice, arrogance and fatuity.

We take refuge in illness and then are trapped there.

The deep problem facing everyone is how to break free when being a prisoner is the only comfortable way you know how to live.

He married a woman to stop her getting away Now she's there all day.

Many of us are in are in our own prisons that aren't made of iron bars.

I am aware of being in a beautiful prison, from which I can only escape by writing.

Puffballs of vanity when they're not being absurdly violent; wretchedly unhappy in their mental prisons and too stubborn to open the door and escape.

I can't help but trip out about how similar my life is to 'Room.' It's me wanting to stay in my own little bubble and remain anonymous and invisible and at the same time needing to step up to this hand that I've been given.

This, after all, was the month in which families began tightening and closing and sealing; from Thanksgiving to the New Year, everybody's world contracted, day by day, into the microcosmic single festive household, each with its own rituals and obsessions, rules and dreams. You didn't feel you could call people. They didn't feel they could phone you. How does one cry for help from these seasonal prisons?

Everything that I bear within me bound, is to be found somewhere else free.

The unhappy are prisoners of a single round of thought.