Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Stifled. Share them with your friends on social media platforms like Facebook, Twitter, or your personal blogs, and let the world be inspired by their powerful messages. Here are the Top 100 Stifled Quotes And Sayings by 98 Authors including Graham Joyce,Marcus Tullius Cicero,Ellen Hopkins,Bell Hooks,Andrea Clemens for you to enjoy and share.
Repression in the human psyche is tightly bundled. When it has been pulled out of the sprung package so often it is perhaps difficult to push it back in the box.
Freedom suppressed and again regained bites with keener fangs than freedom never endangered.
Silence is the first thing within the power of the enslaved to shatter. From that shattering, everything else spills forth.
Are you ready to shatter the silence?
Share your secrets.
a deep smothering emptiness
Repression is sometimes a precious gift our minds offer us when faced with trauma.
When the communal silences the individual, every essence within the individual is silenced.
Silence is the tortured man's revenge.
I have never been contained except I made the prison.
Silence is often underestimated
What you resist, persists
the mute protest in your own bones
No one nor anything can silence me.
I did not enter into silence. Silence captured me.
Fear is another emotion that is strongly suppressed. We cannot afford to be afraid, and so we don't allow ourselves to sense and feel the fear within us. We lower our brows to deny it, set our jaws to defy it, and smile to deceive ourselves. But inwardly we remain scared to death.
When the flow of a river is blocked, it overflows or breaks the barriers. Similarly, our emotions can get out of control if their expression is blocked.
Cowardly thoughts, anxious hesitation, Womanish timidity, timorous complaints Won't keep misery away from you And will not set you free.
To hold silence and to be silenced are two very different experiences. And so another theme emerges, that of light and shadow. When we share our voice, who benefits? When we withhold, who benefits? And what are the consequences and costs of both?
Repression forces your mind to be more deeply entrenched in those things from which you are trying to escape.
When inhibition has become the de facto setting in a person's manner, stiffness and lack of spontaneity produces an unnatural self-repression. Life looks gray, dull, and rigid, without space for relaxation or play to burst forth in natural ways.
You can't crush ideas by suppressing them. You can only crush them by ignoring them.
The oppressed grows weightless: doze/n th/rough c/and/or man/aged leg/ions stud/ents
People tend to suppress that which they cannot express.
It is perhaps the great discomfort of those trying to silence the world to discover that we have voices sealed inside our heads, voices that with each passing day, grow even louder than the clamor of the world outside.
The disowned part of self is an energy - an emotion or desire or need, that has been shamed every time it emerged. These energy patterns are repressed but not destroyed. They are alive in our unconscious.
One of the reasons why so few of us ever act, instead of react, is because we are continually stifling our deepest impulses.
Silence is like a flame, you see?
They have been trapped by their own inventiveness and audacity. And they must pay with their lives.
Freedom, freed of all external boundaries, are still confined within us--their sensitivity often causing bewilderment.
People are often unable to do anything, imprisoned as they are in I don't know what kind of terrible, terrible, oh such terrible cage.
If you're going to hold someone down you're going to have to hold on by the other end of the chain. You are confined by your own repression.
Imprisoned in a cage of sound, even the trivial seems profound
Only those who are empty within, seek to suppress those around them
Oppression
Now dreams
Are not available
To the dreamers,
Nor songs
To the singers.
In some lands
Dark night
And cold steel
Prevail
But the dream
Will come back,
And the song
Break
Its jail.
But now I am cabined, cribbed, confined, bound in To saucy doubts and fears.
I am gagged and imprisoned. I can't even speak. I want to kick a football in a park with my son. Ordinary, banal life: my impossible dream.
Stillborn silence! thou that art Flood-gate of the deeper heart!
Silence is like a cradle holding our endeavors and our will; a silent spaciousness sustains us in our work and at the same time connects us to larger worlds that, in the busyness of our daily struggle to achieve, we have not yet investigated. Silence is the soul's break for freedom.
It was as if she had once been almost smothered and then allowed to live only if she limited her vocabulary and breathed hardly at all.
So still and silent that they clash with the crowd in their very immobility; standing noisy in their silence; harsh as a cry of terror in their quietness.
Muscle, had goggled him and muzzled him - goggled his mind, muzzled his speech, goggled his perception, muzzled his protest.
The desperation meeting the silence with its unmasked wish.
When you can bear your own silence, you are free.
Ever since I was a child my reaction to the forbidden has been a stubborn desire to keep pushing: obstacles make something uncontrollably and deeply necessary.
Silence is a solvent that destroys personality, and gives us leave to be great and universal.
Silence is an endangered quantity in our time ... Silence, embraced, stuns with its presence, its pregnant reality - a reality that does not negate reason and argument, but puts them in their place.
Ever wonder what crime you committed that you are confined to a small enclosure above your sinuses, under permanent skull arrest?
Profound silence; silence so deep that even their breathings were conspicuous in the hush.
Self-suppression is often necessary in the interest of truth and nonviolence.
A crust of lard, habit, and cowardice envelops the soul; no matter what it craves from the depths of its prison, the lard, habit, and cowardice carry out something entirely different.
I don't like denial. I don't like repression.
Precious is sleep, better to be of stone,
while the oppression and the shame still last;
not seeing and not hearing, I am blest;
so do not wake me, hush! keep your voice down.
In so far as one denies what is, one is possessed by what is not, the compulsions, the fantasies, the terrors that flock to fill the void.
I am working out the vocabulary of my silence.
When I sit in my silence and look at my mind, it is only questions of longing and control that emerge to agitate me, and this agitation is what keeps me from evolving forward.
If my mind cannot be tied down, if my dreams cannot be diminished, then no amount of restraints can really guarantee my quiet submission.
Only the wind shatters the silence. I have been here before choking in solitude.
Incomplete, your suppressed being is there, struggling to be free.
I am sure that as soon as speech was invented, efforts to suppress and control it began, and that process of suppression continues unabated.
Perhaps it was freedom itself that choked her.
Censor the body and you censor breath and speech at the same time. Write yourself. Your body must be heard.
What barrier is so insurmountable as silence?
Still, a person who cannot express love is stopping the flow of life, is censoring where censorship is a form of self-indulgence, the fear of giving oneself away.
Isolation is a gradual form of torture.
The silence of the envious is too noisy.
Writers speak for those who are kept in silence
Suppressed I Rise is for anyone interested in a very personal, human view of the history of World War II. A mother's attempt to protect and raise her two young daughters in hostile NAZI Germany challenges her sensibilities and resourcefulness.
When reason sleeps, the monsters of repression will emerge.
Victoria made a violent sound of protest. "I am not repressed!"
Seht pinched her nipple and watched her resulting shiver. "You have never been spanked or ass-f**ked. I would say that's pretty damned repressed." "Bastard!
Thought without expression is dynamic and gathers volume by repression. Evolution when blocked and suppressed becomes revolution.
Silences, as every observer knows, have strange characteristics all their own - passionate silences, and hateful silences, and silences full of friendly, purring content.
Silence is very moving to youth, for who knows what it hides?
She mistrusted the periods of quiet that are essential to true growth. Desiring
The more you try to suppress us, the larger we get.
Timidity is a disease of the mind, obstinate and fatal; for a man once persuaded that any impediment is insuperable has given it, with respect to himself, that strength and weight which it had not before.
There are some silences that even words cannot drive away.
Silence is the necessary space around things that allows them to develop and flourish without my pushing.
Our silence is deafening and deadly.
Three hundred years of humiliation, abuse and deprivation cannot be expected to find voice in a whisper.
Whose silence are you?
The source of our suffering has been our timidity. We have been afraid to think ... Let us dare to read, think, speak, write.
Too weary and dazed by unfinished sleep even to swear. There comes a degree of numbness in fatigue and exasperation which can be expressed only by a sullen silence.
Repression by brute force is always a confession of the inability to make use of the better weapons of the intellect - better because they alone give promise of final success.
Embodiments know not what slavery may be where minds in shackles and chains put nature to shame
Mind, shallow or neat, are found where thoughts may run deep, a family whereacceptance is free, and readers where reception is key.
Say minds may run free.
How can one not succumb and allow one's courage to fail when everything is shut tight, when all meaningful things are walled up, and when you constantly knock against bricks, as against the walls of a prison?
I felt caged by my childhood.
Silence is sometimes the severest criticism.
The state in which the ideas existed before being made conscious is called by us repression, and we assert that the force which instituted the repression and maintains it is perceived as resistance during the work of analysis.
What's the feeling, nobody can hear you???
What's the feeling you to scream and nobody hears?
What's the feeling, to can't do anything?
Your silences remain; they are your biggest mask.
Fear is a hurdle that stops the expression
Freedom will bite back more fiercely when suspended than when she remains undisturbed.
The Word of God hidden in the heart is a stubborn voice to suppress.
The cry of the oppressed has entered not only into my ears, but into my soul, so that while I live, I cannot hold my peace.
When I couldn't speak I was not drawn into silence, silence captured me.
Breathe.
Slow.
Observe.
Break the link between sensation and reaction.
Breathe into the gap between them.
Blind reaction is attachment.
Blind reaction is slavery.
Freedom exists in the gap.
Choice exists in the gap.
I exist in the gap.
And I think, What's the opposite of suffocation?
What are our lungs supposed to do?" I shouted. Shouted: "If they breathe fast they suffocate themselves from inner poisons; if they breathe slowly they suffocate from unbreathable air, from outraged things. But if they try to search for their own rhythm they perish from the mere search.
What we resist persists.
With a whirl of thought oppressed
I sink from reverie to rest.
An horrid vision seized my head,
I saw the graves give up their dead.
Everyone and everything oppresses me, chokes and maddens me; I am troubled by a crushing physical sense of other people's lack of comprehension.