Caged Birds Quotes Novels & Stories

The bird was naïve, thought she could fight against the world which was trapping her. She did not obtain visible scars from that faithful day, only the bars. The bars were her scars to remind her she was nothing, but a caged bird bonded to her master.

The large trees, the water and the sky feels so serene that it feels like they are mocking me as they are free and I'm being caged inside a golden cage. I feel like I'm a bird whose wings have been clipped off and I'm moving towards my golden cage for my entire life. I sighed one last time at my life and closed my eyes, shutting down everything.

Then dying in the end? " But they might not be saved that way. " I know... But it sucks.... Really it does. Sarah... She always craved for freedom... Of course, freedom is inevitable as everyone wants to be free. Who would want to live a life as a caged bird, anyways? Yet... They didn't get the Freedom they wanted. It sucks... Really, it does. " Lord... It hurts so much...the pain in my heart is becoming too much to bear. " " I can't believe that the girls we spent over a month together are all gone, save my best friend and soul sister? "

“This isn’t a prison. You can't keep me against my will.” “No,” he agreed, his voice hauntingly calm. For a split second, I felt a wave of relief, but it vanished the moment he finished his sentence. “It’s worse.” He turned and walked toward the massive front doors, leaving me standing in the cold light, surrounded by his silent army. I looked back at the gates, now far in the distance, and realized the truth. The cage was beautiful, and the bars were made of silk and stone, but it was a cage nonetheless.

“Who’s the heartless one here? Who are the leeches sucking me dry?” My voice resounded in the vast living room, shocking them into silence. Through the line, I was sure Mr. Bateman had heard the argument. He asked tentatively, “Ms. Selavy, is everything all right over there? Your property…”

"I want peace." "Peace?!" His anger surged through the line. "Why are you saying this? Why are you talking like this? Is he making you? Is he forcing you?" I closed my eyes and began to speak in code. "I’ve been thinking a lot... about birds in cages. Some cages are built with steel. Others are made of secrets." He went quiet. "Michael..." "I’m standing near water. A lot of water. And metal. I can hear the sea." A beat.

He sounded tired, tired in a way I had never heard before. I paused for a beat, my tone turning cold. "Mr. Dawson, how can I help you?" Jay repeated himself slowly. "Where are you?"

"I also have some on my lawn... There is a flu of doves which is spreading. One of my doves died too... I have these medicines, you can mix it in their water or food, whatever you feed them. They will be fine..." She handed me the packet of medicine. "Thank you so much... That's so kind of you" I couldn't smile. I hope she doesn't think that I am ungrateful. "You are welcome... Now focus on work" She smiled and walked away. I looked at the medicines and wondered who would be taking care of animals and birds who are caged in shops and streets. People are abusing them in the name of rituals, they cage birds and ask tourists to set them free for wish and the sellers catch them again. That's so

“You have nothing to worry about. He’s sending me off, anyway.” The woman smiles at me like I am simpleminded. “You are truly daft if you think my grandson is letting you go. It is a game we play often. Let the bird fly, only so it can realize it is and truly made only for its cage. Made to be fed by its owner. Made to sing only at its master’s behest and peer outside the bars in a longing for freedom, whereas its one, true desire is being cherished enough to be kept.”

he says, leading me toward a quieter corner of the space. The piece he stops in front of makes my breath catch. It's a sculpture was atwisted metal and found objects arranged to look like a bird breaking free from a cage. The cage is beautiful, ornate, covered in what looks like gold leaf. But the bird's wings are spread wide, ready for flight. "'Breaking Free,'" Derek reads from the artist's statement. "'About the courage it takes to leave beautiful prisons.'" The metaphor hits too close to home. My throat tightens.