Trapped Quotes

“We all live in a house on fire, no fire department to call; no way out, just the upstairs window to look out of while the fire burns the house down with us trapped, locked in it.”
― Tennessee Williams, The Milk Train Doesn't Stop Here Anymore

“Most parents try really hard to give their kids the best possible life. They give them the best food and clothes they can afford, take their own kind of take on training kids to be honest and polite. But what they don't realize is no matter how much they try, their kids will get out there. Out to this complicated little world. If they are lucky they will survive, through backstabbers, broken hearts, failures and all the kinds of invisible insane pressures out there. But most kids get lost in them. They will get caught up in all kinds of bubbles. Trouble bubbles. Bubbles that continuously tell them that they are not good enough. Bubbles that get them carried away with what they think is love, give them broken hearts. Bubbles that will blur the rest of the world to them, make them feel like that is it, that they've reached the end. Sometimes, even the really smart kids, make stupid decisions. They lose control. Parents need to realize that the world is getting complicated every second of every day. With new problems, new diseases, new habits. They have to realize the vast probability of their kids being victims of this age, this complicated era. Your kids could be exposed to problems that no kind of therapy can help. Your kids could be brainwashed by themselves to believe in insane theories that drive them crazy. Most kids will go through this stage. The lucky ones will understand. They will grow out of them. The unlucky ones will live in these problems. Grow in them and never move forward. They will cut themselves, overdose on drugs, take up excessive drinking and smoking, for the slightest problems in their lives.
You can't blame these kids for not being thankful or satisfied with what they have. Their mentality eludes them from the reality.”
― Thisuri Wanniarachchi, COLOMBO STREETS

“Man may feel like a feeble and powerless pawn, at some moment in his life. This apprehension can come out of the blue, in the middle of the day, at the center of a public place, like a cerebral attack. Check mated by 'daily routine', he may feel trapped in a smothering set of circumstances and only a deconstruction of all impeding barriers can bring about a vital mental deliverance. ( "Check and mate" )”
― Erik Pevernagie

“I was mortified by the prospect of becoming hopelessly trapped in someone else's story.”
― Lionel Shriver, We Need to Talk About Kevin

“Strange how things turn out. Two birds, one stone and all that.' McBlane chuckled at his own impromptu joke. 'But things have worked out for the best and now we all get to work together,' he said, and a smile spread across his face as easy as a politician's lie.”
― R.D. Ronald, The Elephant Tree

“It’s just that you go so crazy being alone like that. Sometimes he’d forget my water or food and I’d cry and cry and cry.” She stops talking and looks out the window. “I would try to tell myself stories to pass the time. Fairy tales. Parts of books. But they got used up.”
― Holly Black, White Cat

“Those who speak of progression but are afraid of change are self-repressed and therefore unable to reach any further than their eyes can already see.”
― Criss Jami, Killosophy

“Yeah, as long as we know we're trapped, we still have a chance to escape.”
― Sara Grant, Neva

“We are not trapped by our thoughts. What we generally do, however, is create thoughts that trap us.” (p.162)”
― Joshua David Stone, A Beginner's Guide to the Path of Ascension

“But you, children of space, you restless in rest, you shall not be trapped nor tamed.”
― Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet

“And if you can find any way out of our culture, then that's a trap too. Just wanting to get out of the trap reinforces the trap.”
― Chuck Palahniuk, Invisible Monsters

“I was reading about animals a while back and there was this motherfucking scientist in France back in the thirties or forties or whenever the motherfuck it was and he was trying to get apes to draw these pictures, to make art pictures like the kinds of pictures in serious motherfucking paintings that you see in museums and shit. So the scientist keeps showing the apes these paintings and giving them charcoal pencils to draw with and then one day one of the apes finally draws something but it’s not the art pictures that it draws. What it draws is the bars of its own motherfucking cage. Its own motherfucking cage! Man, that's the truth, ain't it?”
― Cheryl Strayed, Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail

“I don't know what I am thinking. But I am alone. I am trapped in the net of the room. In the net of humans. I think maybe I am drowning in the net of humans.”
― Karen Hesse, The Music of Dolphins

“You can't do anything for a person who is stuck between being happy and being miserable. All you can do is get trapped in the middle, and anyone in the middle just gets squished.' -Grandma”
― Jack Gantos, What Would Joey Do?

“Of all the ways I had imagined my death, getting beaten by my zombified mentor while trapped by a cannibalistic window handle wasn’t one of them”
― Anton Strout, Dead To Me

“He roars, “What have you done?”
I don’t answer. My heart beats crazy happy just to see her get across the iron. She’s not burned. She’s still human.
“Zara.” His voice is measured. “I need her to maintain control.”
“You don’t need to be in control. You’re all trapped. So there’ll be no more stealing boys, no more shooting arrows in the woods, getting people lost. It’s all over.” The metal is cold on my fingers.
Devyn grabs more wire, starts another flight. A group of pixies leaps for him, screaming, a wild, chaotic mess. They start clawing at each other, lost in fear and hunger, angry. A pixie in a pink dress shrieks when another wearing a black gown lashes at her, slashing through the skin on her arm.
“Zara?” The king tries to be calm and nice. He tries to look human. It doesn’t work. “Do you know what this means? Do you know the power that I’ll lose? The need? We will fight in here. We will kill each other.”
“I know,” I say and my voice shakes as I stare at him, this man who is in my blood, but not me. He is not me. Still, I understand his need, his fear. He is stuck in this awful place where there is no moral way to move forward. “I’m so sorry.”
And I am.”
― Carrie Jones, Need

“Tamlin's claws punched out. 'Even if I risked it, you're untrained abilities render your presence more of a liability than anything.'

It was like being hit with stones- so hard I could feel myself cracking. But I lifted my chin and said, 'I'm coming along whether you want me to or not.'

'No, you aren't.' He strode right through the door, his claws slashing the air at his sides, and was halfway down the steps before I reached the threshold.

Where I slammed into an invisible wall.

I staggered back, trying to reorder my mind around the impossibility of it. It was identical to the one I'd built that day in the study, and I searched inside the shards of my soul, my heart, for a tether to that shield, wondering if I'd blocked myself, but- there was no power emanating from me.

I reached a hand to the open air of the doorway. And met solid resistance.

'Tamlin,' I rasped.

But he was already down the front drive, walking towards the looming iron gates. Lucien remained at the foot of the stairs, his face so, so pale.

'Tamlin,' I said again, pushing against the wall.

He didn't turn.

I slammed my hand into the invisible barrier. No movement- nothing but hardened air. And I had not learned about my own powers enough to try to push through, to shatter it... I had let him convince me not to learn those things for his sake-

'Don't bother trying,' Lucien said softly, as Tamlin cleared the gates and vanished- winnowed. 'He shielded the entire house around you. Others can go in and out, but you can't. Not until he lifts the shield.'

He'd locked me in here.

I hit the shield again. Again.

Nothing.

'Just- be patient, Feyre,' Lucien tried, wincing as he followed after Tamlin. 'Please. I'll see what I can do. I'll try again.'

I barely heard him over the roar in my ears. Didn't wait to see him pass the gates and winnow, too.

He'd locked me in. He'd sealed me inside the house.

I hurtled for the nearest window in the foyer and shoved it open. A cool spring breeze rushed in- and I shoved my hand through it- only for my fingers to bounce off an invisible wall. Smooth, hard air pushed against my skin.

Breathing became difficult.

I was trapped.

I was trapped inside this house. I might as well have been Under the Mountain. I might as well have been inside that cell again-

I backed away, my steps too light, too fast, and slammed into the oak table in the centre of the foyer. None of the nearby sentries came to investigate.

He'd trapped me in here; he'd locked me up.

I stopped seeing the marble floor, or the paintings on the walls, or the sweeping staircase looming behind me. I stopped hearing the chirping of the spring birds, or the sighing of the breeze through the curtains.

And then crushing black pounded down and rose up beneath, devouring and roaring and shredding.

It was all I could do to keep from screaming, to keep from shattering into ten thousand pieces as I sank onto the marble floor, bowing over my knees, and wrapped my arms around myself.

He'd trapped me; he'd trapped me; he'd trapped me-

I had to get out, because I'd barely escaped from another prison once before, and this time, this time-

Winnowing. I could vanish into nothing but air and appear somewhere else, somewhere open and free. I fumbled for my power, for anything, something that might show me the way to do it, the way out. Nothing. There was nothing and I had become nothing, and I couldn't even get out-

Someone was shouting my name from far away.

Alis- Alis.

But I was ensconced in a cocoon of darkness and fire and ice and wind, a cocoon that melted the ring off my finger until the folden ore dripped away into the void, the emerald tumbling after it. I wrapped that raging force around myself as if it could keep the walls from crushing me entirely, and maybe, maybe buy me the tiniest sip of air-

I couldn't get out; I couldn't get out; I couldn't get out-”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Mist and Fury

“I can show you a version of yourself, Taryn. One you've never imagined. It's terrible to be a girl trapped in a story. But you can be more than that. You can be the teller. You can shape the story. You can make all of Faerie love you.”
― Holly Black, The Lost Sisters

“I studied the stable behind him instead. At least it was big, open, the stable hands now off in another wing. I usually had little issue with being inside, which was mostly whenever I was bored enough to visit the horses housed within. Plenty of space to move, to escape. he walls didn't feel too... permanent.

Not like the kitchens, which were too low, the walls too thick, the windows not big enough to climb through. Not like the study, with not enough natural light or easy exits. I had a long list in my head of what places I could and couldn't endure at the manor, ranked by precisely how much they made my body luck up and sweat.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Mist and Fury

“I studied the stable behind him instead. At least it was big, open, the stable hands now off in another wing. I usually had little issue with being inside, which was mostly whenever I was bored enough to visit the horses housed within. Plenty of space to move, to escape. the walls didn't feel too... permanent.

Not like the kitchens, which were too low, the walls too thick, the windows not big enough to climb through. Not like the study, with not enough natural light or easy exits. I had a long list in my head of what places I could and couldn't endure at the manor, ranked by precisely how much they made my body luck up and sweat.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Mist and Fury

“Tamlin's claws punched out. 'Even if I risked it, you're untrained abilities render your presence more of a liability than anything.'

It was like being hit with stones- so hard I could feel myself cracking. But I lifted my chin and said, 'I'm coming along whether you want me to or not.'

'No, you aren't.' He strode right through the door, his claws slashing the air at his sides, and was halfway down the steps before I reached the threshold.

Where I slammed into an invisible wall.

I staggered back, trying to reorder my mind around the impossibility of it. It was identical to the one I'd built that day in the study, and I searched inside the shards of my soul, my heart, for a tether to that shield, wondering if I'd blocked myself, but- there was no power emanating from me.

I reached a hand to the open air of the doorway. And met solid resistance.

'Tamlin,' I rasped.

But he was already down the front drive, walking towards the looming iron gates. Lucien remained at the foot of the stairs, his face so, so pale.

'Tamlin,' I said again, pushing against the wall.

He didn't turn.

I slammed my hand into the invisible barrier. No movement- nothing but hardened air. And I had not learned about my own powers enough to try to push through, to shatter it... I had let him convince me not to learn those things for his sake-

'Don't bother trying,' Lucien said softly, as Tamlin cleared the gates and vanished- winnowed. 'He shielded the entire house around you. Others can go in and out, but you can't. Not until he lifts the shield.'

He'd locked me in here.

I hit the shield again. Again.

Nothing.

'Just- be patient, Feyre,' Lucien tried, wincing as he followed after Tamlin. 'Please. I'll see what I can do. I'll try again.'

I barely heard him over the roar in my ears. Didn't wait to see him pass the gates and winnow, too.

He'd locked me in. He'd sealed me inside the house.

I hurtled for the nearest window in the foyer and shoved it open. A cool spring breeze rushed in- and I shoved my hand through it- only for my fingers to bounce off an invisible wall. Smooth, hard air pushed against my skin.

Breathing became difficult.

I was trapped.

I was trapped inside this house. I might as well have been Under the Mountain. I might as well have been inside that cell again-

I backed away, my steps too light, too fast, and slammed into the oak table in the centre of the foyer. None of the nearby sentries came to investigate.

He'd trapped me in here; he'd locked me up.

I stopped seeing the marble floor, or the paintings on the walls, or the sweeping staircase looming behind me. I stopped hearing the chirping of the spring birds, or the sighing of the breeze through the curtains.

And then crushing black pounded down and rose up beneath, devouring and roaring and shredding.

It was all I could do to keep from screaming, to keep from shattering into ten thousand pieces as I sank onto the marble floor, bowing over my knees, and wrapped my arms around myself.

He'd trapped me; he'd trapped me; he'd trapped me-

I had to get out, because I'd barely escaped from another prison once before, and this time, this time-

Winnowing. I could vanish into nothing but air and appear somewhere else, somewhere open and free. I fumbled for my power, for anything, something that might show me the way to do it, the way out. Nothing. There was nothing and I had become nothing, and I couldn't even get out-

Someone was shouting my name from far away.

Alis- Alis.

But I was ensconced in a cocoon of darkness and fire and ice and wind, a cocoon that melted the ring off my finger until the golden ore dripped away into the void, the emerald tumbling after it. I wrapped that raging force around myself as if it could keep the walls from crushing me entirely, and maybe, maybe buy me the tiniest sip of air-

I couldn't get out; I couldn't get out; I couldn't get out-”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Mist and Fury

“We are king and queen, chained together as surely as prisoners in a dungeon. And if we are not to suffer as prisoners do, we must make peace with each other.”
― Mary Stuart

“Vera did not reply. He had called her careless, was blaming her, passing judgment and in this he was no different to all other men: they had their way with women, but God forbid the woman they wanted to marry should be sullied. Even one who had been trapped...”
― Barbara Townsend, Out of mind

“They need someone with a sharp wit who enjoys torturing men.”
“I do enjoy torturing you.”
“Just don’t go falling for any of the other guys you’re torturing. You’re my girlfriend.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
― Charleigh Frederick, Rule 25: Don't Fall For The Target

“You know, Eris,' he said, a hand wrapping around the doorknob. 'I think you might be a decent male, deep down, trapped in a terrible situation.' He looked over his shoulder and found Eris's gaze blazing again. But only pity stirred in his chest, pity for a male who had been born into riches, but had been destitute in every way that truly mattered. In every way that Cassian had been blessed- blessings that were now overflowing.

So Cassian said, 'I grew up surrounded by monsters. I've spent my existence fighting then. And I see you, Eris. You're not one of them. Not even close. I think you might even be a good male.' Cassian opened the door, turning from Eris's curled lip. 'You're just too much of a coward to act like one.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A ​Court of Silver Flames

“They thought they were out into the sea, only to be fish in a barrel.”
― Cuong Le, STARS

“My head is bloody, but unbowed / May children's bones bedeck my shroud.' Sylvia felt physically and emotionally trapped by the house and all its demands; "Learning the limitations of a woman's sphere is no fun at all.”
― Heather Clark, Red Comet: The Short Life and Blazing Art of Sylvia Plath

“You once promised to remind me to breathe but when the walls of real life started closing in you left me suffocating.”
― Amelia Lynn

“To let me go is to trust that I am supposed to go. To hold onto me when I say I need to grow is to show me that you too know, I don’t belong here.”
― Maquita Donyel Irvin Andrews, Space

“We are born in a burning world blind;
scorched souls in cold bodies; this heart
beats to a rhythm I cannot recognize.
I run to keep up with the pulse of life.
There is a perfect laid out path for me,
then why do I always fall behind?”
― Zaineb Afzal, Spare Change