It's about avoiding reality through various escape routes that become addictions and lead to Hell. My character is addicted to television, chocolate, coffee, to her dream of her son, which has no basis in reality.
We escaped the last big bursting of a bubble - the dotcom bubble - with a relatively light U.S. recession. On that occasion, the world economy found its way back on track fairly quickly.
We keep making the same mistakes as a species, and you can usually draw it back to the fact that we are all terrified of dying. We also all think that we are going to escape it until we get to 65!
I have one problem, I don’t hate people. They disgust me and I want to get away from them. I do not have hatred. I have an escape mechanism.
We need sometimes to escape into open solitudes, into aimlessness, into the moral holiday of running some pure hazard in order to sharpen the edge of life, to taste hardship, and to be compelled to work desperately for a moment at no matter what.
Many have puzzled themselves about the origin of evil. I am content to observe that there is evil, and that there is a way to escape from it, and with this I begin and end.
The poor are discussed as this homogeneous mash, like porridge. The idea that they might be individuals, and be where they are for very different, diverse reasons, again seems to escape some people.
Running my fastest not from my past. Running from those who have hurt me in it. And, they can't catch me anymore. I escaped from the land of make believe.
We all face difficulties of our own, and how comforting it is to immerse yourself in a book - my book, any book, any romance. It's entertainment, it's escape, and it can even be an inspiration!
Muldoon: [seeing that the raptors escaped] The shut down must've turned off all the fences. Damn it, even Nedry knew better than to mess with the raptor fences.
I just enjoyed telling stories. I enjoyed watching films and reading and becoming someone else. I spent a lot of time on my own when I was younger; I enjoyed my own company and still do, so it was a source of escapism.
Shopmas now begins on Thanksgiving Day. Apparently, escaping the families you cannot stand to spend another minute with on Thanksgiving Day to go buy them gifts is how some Americans show their affection for one another. Weird.
English: Sometimes I think that's all this place is. One... long... count. The prisoners count the hours, the bulls count the prisoners and the king bulls count the counts.
Litmus: I'm Litmus. Like Litmus paper. When it gets cold, my face gets blue. And when it's hot, my face gets red.
Wolf: I'm Wolf. Where did they transfer you from? Frank Morris: Atlanta. Wolf: Nice town, Atlanta. Frank Morris: I never saw it.
Dory: [reading a door] Hey, look. "Esc-a-pay". I wonder what that means? That's funny, it's spelled just like the word "escape."
Ramsey: [in the first meeting with Von Luger is informed of the large amount of resources being used to guard the prisoners] Well, it's rather nice to know that you're wanted.
[Nicholas van Orten loses a shoe when climbing a fire-escape ladder] Nicholas: There goes a thousand dollars. Christine: Your shoes cost a thousand dollars? Nicholas: That one did.
[after their escape from the Death Eaters] Ron Weasley: You're amazing, you are! Hermione Granger: [wryly] Always the tone of surprise.
Wilson, reporter: Any dope on how he escaped? McCue, reporter: Maybe the sheriff let him out so Williams could vote for him.
Keith Frazier: Who ever heard of a bank robbers escaping on a plane with fifty hostages? You've seen Dog Day Afternoon! You're stalling! Why? I don't know.
