Caged Birds Quotes Novels & Stories

Me and her were like Kassandra, we have a home were we belong, a home we long for. And base on her diary entries, it seems that she doesn’t knew or have any idea that the world we live in was a book. It was already a big clue, but I turn blind and didn’t bother question it. We are like the birds, trapped in their cage. A prisoner of this world. If I were a bird, I'd fly to the top of that tree, look around for a few minutes, just to say goodbye, then fly away and never see any of this again. Maybe I'd just start flying and not stop until I die of exhaustion. Just to get away from here.

He selected his favorite poem by Craig Arnold and cleared his throat to begin: Of many reasons I love you, here is one the way you write me from the gate at the airport so I can tell you everything will be alright so you can tell me there is a bird trapped in the terminal all the people ignoring it because they do not know what to do with it except to leave it alone until it scares itself to death it makes you terribly, terribly sad You wish you could take the bird outside and set it free or (failing that) call a bird-understander to come help the bird All you can do is notice the bird and feel for the bird and write to tell me how language feels impossibly useless but you are wrong You are

The bird’s flight echoed something in me, and my fingers curled by my side. I glanced at Zane. “This should be easy. Birds represent freedom,” I said, my voice light, too energetic. “It’s escaping.” “Escaping instead of dominating the cage—that doesn’t sound like freedom.” Zane’s voice cut through. “Sounds like cowardice.” I flinched, his words burning my skin, hotter than it should. Part of me wanted to argue. To tell him running away was the best form of freedom. But another told me he wouldn’t care. Just like he didn’t care about my other interpretation.

"Once you turn to ashes, I'll be the richest man. Who in the country would dare touch me then? Besides, if I'm doing this, it means I've already found a scapegoat to take the fall." With that, he pulled out a lighter and set the hotel bedding on fire. Ignoring my struggles and screams, he and Jasmine slammed the door shut behind them. The flames spread rapidly. The fire climbed up the bedposts, and the oil on the floor ignited, snaking toward my feet. I wanted to jump out of the window, but my arms were tied, making it impossible to open it. I tried ramming the glass with my head. The impact made me dizzy, but the glass remained unbroken.

- I said quietly trying to light the room with only that lamp and I heard a noise again. I lit the lamps I found until I found a birdcage with a bird in it, a small gray dove. - Zinc wants food, Zinc wants food. - He spoke? I opened the cage and the bird flew into a pot and knocked it to the ground spilling several grains. Alright then, it's been weeks without someone to feed it.

He had me completely fooled as Lana, but he will never win in the same game as Lana. Just past the statues stood tall iron cages woven with gold thread, spaced like art installations, beautiful and fairytale-like. Inside, birds of every color and shape moved restlessly. One had feathers like molten fire, another like freshly bloomed violets. Their cages were polished, their perches refined. It was clear someone had tried to make their prison seem elegant. When it was all traps. Their songs were quieter than the ones flying above, lonelier. Aaron didn’t speak. Neither did I. At least, not to each other. Not when Alpha Cain and Jade took all his time discussing pack issues.

I accepted the coffee and took a sip, the bitterness unfurling across my tongue. "Cracks are the cost of breaking out of the cage, and that's where the light gets in," I said. Samuel leaned in, his fingertip skimming the edge of the drawing. His hand brushed mine. The warmth made me flinch on instinct. He chuckled and pushed a stack of photos toward me. "The client wants the 'Caged Bird' series at Fashion Week next month. I'm considering real feathers for the insets. Are you afraid of birds?" "I used to be," I said, running a finger over the photo of an egret with its wings outstretched, remembering how Kyle tossed the sparrow figurine on my windowsill into the trash.

His whole body shifts against mine and a few seconds later I’m staring at his golden brown eyes that look even clearer with the water drizzling down his face. “Say that again?” “What?” “Last thing you said” “I want you guys to want me” “We already do and that was not the last thing you said. Try again” “I’m not a caged bird” His hand is already on my chin, lifting it so I could be at a level with his eyes. “Damn right you are not. You’re a damn phoenix, my phoenix. The only reason we are staying away is to make sure you are fine” “I’m fine”

I can’t even finish embroidering a bird without ruining it. Eva’s voice floats through my mind, repeating a line from one of the many letters we exchanged between Anwen’s wedding and the rejuvenation ceremony. Sometimes, I feel like a stone dove, building impossible nests in unlivable coves and corners. But so many of those doves raise strong, happy families that it’s hard not to wonder if maybe the attempt is what matters.

Flashback from Chapter 26 (Zoya's version) (Sahir and Zoya in twenties) Zoya entered in the pet shop. She had enough money to buy a pet for her. She looked around in the shop, there were puppies, rabbits, fish tanks. She roamed around in the shop with a smile. Today she will buy a pet who will be with her. She was tired of living alone in her boring hostel room. She wanted to forget him, the one who was not leaving her heart. The one whom she loved more than anyone else. She wanted to distract her mind. Her eyes fell on the cage of birds. She went near to them and saw the birds sitting quite in the cage. She remembered her childhood. How her hostel warden used to lock her in a room for weeks