The prisoners for better security against conversation shall have a canvas bag put over the head of each and tied around the neck, with a holes for proper breathing and eating, but not seeing.
Inside the walls of a prison my body may be, but my Lord has set my soul free.
What does it matter where my body happens to be?' he said. 'My mind goes on working all the same.
If you put on shoes that are too tight and walk out across an empty plain, you will not feel the freedom of the place unless you take off your shoes. Your shoe-constriction has you confined. At night before sleeping you take off the tight shoes, and your soul releases into a place it knows. Dreams glide deeper.
The body is the soul's poor house or home, whose ribs the laths are and whose flesh the loam.
Having a body is in itself the greatest threat to the mind... The body encloses the mind in a fortress; before long the mind is besieged on all sides, and in the end the mind has to give itself up.
Man's own form in space - his body - was a private prison; and that it was because of this imprisoning misery - because he was hungry and overworked and went to a horrid place called home late at night in the rain, and his bones ached and his head was heavy.
The caged eagle become a metaphor for all forms of isolation, the ultimate in imprisonment. A zoo is prison.
The soul is the prison of the body.
A caged canary is safe but not free.
A pedestal is the most insidious prison ever devised.
Everyone is obsessed with air fresheners. We associate smell with disgust. But we're all locked into the body; we can't escape it.
A prison is confining to the body, but whether it affects the mind, depends entirely upon the mind.
People always think about what prison is. What prison really is - it's not a physical challenge, it's mental.
It is cruelty to children to keep five-year-olds sitting still, gazing into vacancy even for one hour at a time. We have little idea of the torture we thus inflict.
Love could never bloom in a concrete block room.
Place me behind prison walls - walls of stone ever so high, ever so thick, reaching ever so far into the ground. There is a possibility that in some way or another I may be able to escape. But stand me on that floor and draw a chalk line around me and have me give my word of honor never to cross it. Can I get out of that circle? No. Never.
I experienced the discomfort of those who have moved mentally, but are still clamped, physically, to the places they have moved from.
We are bound to our bodies like an oyster to its shell.
The soul is content to stay imprisoned in the human body... for through the eyes all the various things of nature are represented to the soul.
People are locked up in all sorts of ways.
I account this body nothing but a close prison to my soul; and the earth a larger prison to my body. I may not break prison till I be loosed by death; but I will leave it, not unwillingly,when I am loosed.
My keepers, why keepers, I'm in no danger of stirring an inch, ah I see, it's to make me think I'm a prisoner, frantic with corporeality, rearing to get out and away.
I think the silence would be good with me, and not interacting with people would be okay. But not being able to move outside of the space would be hard. Not being able to walk around - the stillness of my body, physically - that would be the challenge.
They put me in a whole body suit, from my neck to my ankles. It was so bad, I couldn't straighten my legs.
