#escape

To run away from trouble is a form of cowardice and, while it is true that the suicide braves death, he does it not for some noble object but to escape some ill. ↗

— Aristotle

#braves #cowardice #death #does #escape

When introverts go to church, we crave sanctuary in every sense of the word, as we flee from the disorienting distractions of twenty-first-century life. We desire to escape from superficial relationships, trivial communications and the constant noise that pervade our world, and find rest in the probing depths of God's love. ↗

— Adam S. McHugh

#escape #introverts #relationships #sanctuary #communication

For I'm afraid of loneliness; shiveringly, terribly afraid. I don't mean the ordinary physical loneliness, for here I am, deliberately travelled away from London to get to it, to its spaciousness and healing. I mean that awful loneliness of spirit that is the ultimate tragedy of life. When you've got to that, really reached it, without hope, without escape, you die. You just can't bear it, and you die. ↗

— Elizabeth von Arnim

#escape #fear #hope #london #loneliness

Books don't offer real escape, but they can stop a mind scratching itself raw. ↗

— David Mitchell

#escape #reading #real

You don't need to know what you're escaping from to become a fugitive. ↗

— Bella Pollen

#life #life

You’ve gone far away to a place with no horses and very little grass, and you’re studying how to write a story with a happy ending. If you can write that ending for yourself, maybe you can come back. ↗

— Jennifer Echols

#happy-ending #horses #kentucky #new-york #stable-boy

The best way to escape from your problem is to solve it. ↗

— Robert Anthony

#best way #escape #problem #solve #way

I spent the rest of the day in someone else's story. The rare moments that I put the book down, my own pain returned in burning stabs. ↗

— Amy Plum

#die-for-me #escape #kate #loneliness #reading

The anoretic operates under the astounding illusion that she can escape the flesh, and, by association, the realm of emotions. ↗

— Marya Hornbacher

#self-image #escape

This was 1941 and I'd been in prison eleven years. I was thirty-five. I'd spent the best years of my life either in a cell or in a black-hole. I'd only had seven months of total freedom with my Indian tribe. The children my Indian wives must have had by me would be eight years old now. How terrible! How quickly the time had flashed by! But a backward glance showed all these hours and minutes studding my calvary as terribly long, and each one of them hard to bear. ↗

— Henri Charrière

#freedom