Strangled Quotes

In the spider-web of facts, many a truth is strangled.

Wearing a turtleneck is like being strangled by a really weak guy, all day.

Wearing a backpack and a turtleneck is like a weak midget trying to bring you down.

Man will never be free until the last king is strangled with the entrails of the last priest.

Painting is a way to forget life. It is a cry in the night, a strangled laugh.

How many feasible projects have miscarried through despondency, and been strangled in their birth by a cowardly imagination.

It is, in fact, nothing short of a miracle that modern methods of instruction have not entirely strangled the holy curiosity of inquiry; for this delicate little plant, aside from stimulation, stands mainly in need of freedom; without this it goes to wrack and ruin without fail. It is a very grave mistake to think that the enjoyment of seeing and searching can be promoted by means of coercion and a sense of duty.

A cul-de-sac to which ideas are lured and then quietly strangled.

The truth is, laughter always sounds more perfect than weeping.

Laughter flows in a violent riff and is effortlessly melodic. Weeping is often fought, choked, half strangled, or surrendered to with humiliation.

And what is an authentic madman? It is a man who preferred to become mad, in the socially accepted sense of the word, rather than forfeit a certain superior idea of human honor. So society has strangled in its asylums all those it wanted to get rid of or protect itself from, because they refused to become its accomplices in certain great nastinesses. For a madman is also a man whom society did not want to hear and whom it wanted to prevent from uttering certain intolerable truths.

I shall be glad when you have strangled the invincible respectability that dogs your steps.

Unfortunately, the Republican leadership in the House right now seems to have been strangled by the tea party.

I loved making 'Rising Sun'. I got into the psychology of why she liked to get strangled and tied up in plastic bags. It has to do with low self-worth.

For me, painting is a way to forget life. It is a cry in the night, a strangled laugh.

Strangled in the clutch of brute intimidation, we are all made victims;

first by the foul deed, and second by those good souls who do nothing to oppose it.