escape

To escape death, she'd become death.

The church and the whorehouse arrived in the Far West simultaneously. And each would have been horrified to think it was a different facet of the same thing. But surely they were both intended to accomplish the same thing: the singing, the devotion, the poetry of the churches took a man out of his bleakness for a time, and so did the brothels.

The black land slid by and he was going into the country among the hills. For the first time in a dozen years the stars were coming out above him, in great processions of wheeling fire. He saw a great juggernaut of stars form in the sky and threaten to roll over and crush him... the river was mild and leisurely, going away from the people who ate shadows for breakfast and steam for lunch and vapors for supper. The river was very real; it held him comfortably and gave him the time at last, the leisure, to consider this month, this year, and a lifetime of years. He listened to his heart slow. His thoughts stopped rushing with his blood.

She had headed towards town aimlessly, looking for the kind of escape that could be found only in a solitary walk through a crowd.

You cannot escape God's call on your life. He will pursue you to the ends of the earth!

Understand, it__ never been easy to live, when we__e trying to escape ourselves.

Escape is just a will away.

In a lifeworld, where we can be what we are, and not what people expect us to be, we can escape a blank and void existence, which is linked to wrecking ennui. Boredom often slips into revulsion and nausea, for not being able to find an identity and not succeeding in acquiring individuality with the quality of authenticity. ("Like a frozen image")

I wanted freedom in the same way I wanted my next breath: an unspoken but constant desire.

Reading always calmed me down: filling my head with other - made up - people's problems and conflicts made my own seem less terrible, less real.

Escaping Reality One Erotic Romance Novel At a Time.

Writing is the only way to run away from home, without ever leaving.

Writing is simply another means for truth to escape, besides crawling out the hole it__ eaten in the author__ belly.

Her mother had once told her that one could run away from home, from husband, from children, from trouble, but it was impossible to run away from oneself. "You always have to take yourself with you," she said. And now, bending towards her mother, Hope wondered if in death you were finally able to run away from yourself. This might be death's gift. She knew that the thought wasn't terribly profound, but she was moved by the notion of completion and of escape.

He was as bold as a lion about it, and 'mightily convinced' not only himself, but everybody that heard him;__ut then his idea of a fugitive was only an idea of the letters that spell the word,__r at the most, the image of a little newspaper picture of a man with a stick and bundle, with "Ran away from the subscriber" under it. The magic of the real presence of distress,__he imploring human eye, the frail, trembling human hand, the despairing appeal of helpless agony,__hese he had never tried. He had never thought that a fugitive might be a hapless mother, a defenseless child,__ike that one which was now wearing his lost boy's little well-known cap; and so, as our poor senator was not stone or steel,__s he was a man, and a downright noble-hearted one, too,__e was, as everybody must see, in a sad case for his patriotism.

She had forced herself to learn to read _ picked up bits and pieces, here and there, from the very few teachers who had been patient with her; from looking at words while out and about; from television, and from friends. And to avoid the shouting and drug-induced moaning, and the row of male visitors her mum would entertain, she would barricade herself in her room _ there'd been no lock _ and lose herself in books.

When he put his arms around me, and held me to his chest, everything in me settled. When he spoke into my ear, it all came loose again, as if his words evaporated the gravity of my mind.

I was seduced by the idea that even in the dark, we are still as complex and detailed as we are in the light.