Caged Birds Quotes Novels & Stories

Helplessness pierced my heart. The chances of rescue were nearly gone. I stroked my belly through the pain, talking to my baby. I prayed that, if it had a next life, it would be born into a pack where its father loved its mother. Then it would be happy. My breath grew faint, my blood turning to ice in my veins. Suddenly, the cage door swung open, and the lights flickered on. The sight of me in a pool of my blood startled the wolf who stood there. I used my last bit of strength to inch forward, whispering, "Help… me."

My wolf snarled, We could, we should. But I straightened my spine and exhaled sharply. I turned toward the floor-to-ceiling window. The sunset outside burned in gold and crimson, but the iron bars fitted discreetly into the frame caught my attention instead. It was pretty to the eye, yet a cage all the same. Just like this place, just like this marriage. I stared out at the fading sky, my reflection pale against the glass. I was only a caged bird, I thought. No… a caged wolf.

His tone was calm and seemingly pleasant. But they were smarter, the men. They knew that not too deep beneath the calm, laid an cruel storm. "Do you know what a caged bird does the moment it has been let out of its cage?" He asked no one in particular as his slender fingers fondled the vicious looking, pet eagle nesting on his armrest. Everyone held their tongues and kept their silence. It wasn't from ignorance though, but pure fear. The Master continued. "It savours every feel of freedom it had lost, loses track of time....and eventually might chose to remain in the raw pleasures of the wild over the comfort of its cage."

I finished the last stroke of my sketch and when I looked up, I looked right into Lilian's gaze as she leaned against the doorframe. She was holding two cups of coffee, squinting at my sketch behind those black-rimmed glasses. "The wings on the final draft of 'Caged' have three more fractures than the first version." My fingers froze. On the page, the bird's shattered feathers still reached stubbornly upward, exactly like my own heart the night I huddled in the supply room drawing this series. I drank the coffee, its bitter warmth spreading across my tongue. "Fractures are the price of breaking free from the cage, and the cracks let the light in."

the boy told him, "and I release it when we arrive at our destination. It would often wander off for hours and wait to respond to my calls to return. And I'm considering only taking it out of the cage when it is time to hunt as a potential solution." Hector disagreed, shaking his head. "Keeping your bird in a cage would be a grave error. Unlike other birds, your bird seems unable to tolerate being confined. Its negative reactions are likely a result of anger towards you, which dissipates when it returns to you. I suggest trusting it and discarding the cage. Allow it to soar above you, and you will find that it will follow you willingly. You will see that your bond with your bird will strengt

" He had intended it to be a yell, a war cry. But it came out as a hoarse, pathetic croak. All the maid fell and began to crawl towards the bird. "We will die together, hinder," Dave whispered. He crawled closer and closer, every struggle. Still, the birds didn't move. They could feel the heat of the sun beating on them, sucking the last moisture from their skin. They had stopped sweating a long time ago. A bad sign. But it didn't matter. We are going to take this bird with us. They all saw an abandoned cart from afar. "It seemed the birds are no more flying. There should be something we can take." One of the other guards said.

He spoke quickly, in fervor: “Vaseline. Vessel. Vassel. All are one and the same. Quick, love- I'm simmering! Heal me. I won't burn you at the stake like poor Joan. I don't have Michael's practicality. But you will burn, girl, with me.” “God save us.” “Would you give me your heart? I collect organs.” He rested his head on my breast, drinking in its beat. “Just like a caged bird,” he sang. “I'd hang it in my window and sing to it. I could break open your ribs and set it free. Then there'd be no division between us.” “Never. That's madness.”

I'm sure Mom and Dad wouldn't want us to die hating each other either. If they did this in the past, I would have done what they asked even if it cost me my life. But looking back at all the things they did to me, I realized that they actually believed I deserved those inhumane torments back then. I coldly asked, "Heather, Claire, haven't you heard of the phrase, 'what's done is done'? "I was locked in a cage with dogs and was bitten everywhere. Then, I was tormented by those perverted women. If that wasn't enough, my Achilles tendon was cut, which destroyed my racing career.

Seeing it lifted the gloom from me. Jonathan bought it, saying pets heal the heart; when I felt down, I should hold it and let it warm me. Of course, if it warmed me, I must care for it properly—plump it up, keep its fur glossy. So I bought cat food, a bed, cans of pâté—an entire haul. On the way home, the sky opened. A gray stray cowered under an awning, soaking wet. The shopkeeper kicked it away, and the cat slunk out into the downpour to seek shelter. I thought of myself—an orphan, drifting, always without a home, always looked down on.

"I’m like a bird in a cat’s cage. There’s no way out. All I can do is wait for that fool to kill me." I furrowed my brows, absorbing his words carefully. Carlos raised an eyebrow. "Listen to this proverb, Miss Harper." I held my breath, waiting for his words. "Like a bird in a cat’s cage." Carlos hung up the phone. Slowly, he stood up. His bandaged leg dragged slightly as he walked away. I remained seated, watching him until his figure disappeared from view. That proverb… it must mean something. I slammed the phone down in frustration and ran my fingers through my hair.