There is something in the soul that cries out for freedom.

“Let us break Their chains and cast away Their cords.”

I said, “Oh, that I had wings like a dove! I would fly away and find rest.

What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death?

Always remember, the essence of rebellion is the desire to be independent of God.

My civil rights will not be trampled, and I say this not for me but for my children, and all those who yearn to breathe free. Those who make your Apple products at Foxxcon, those who languish in prisons in Cuba, North Korea and Venezuela. Those homosexuals who are stoned to death in the streets of Egypt or Iran, while our so-called civil rights leaders hold coffee klatches with third graders in the White House.

As the hart desires the spring of living water, so my soul desires to leave the prison of this dark body and see You in truth.

A craving for freedom and independence is generated only in a man still living on hope.

The large rooms are too cramped and close. She cannot endure their restraint, and will walk alone in a neighbouring garden.

I am happy in my prison of passion

I don't want to earn a living, I want to live.

My own personality has become a burden to me. I want to escape, to go away, to forget.