A Quote by Jaggi Vasudev

Most human beings live like a bird in a cage whose door was blown away. Out of habit, too busy gold-plating the cage, they do not soar to the ultimate possibility. — © Jaggi Vasudev
Most human beings live like a bird in a cage whose door was blown away. Out of habit, too busy gold-plating the cage, they do not soar to the ultimate possibility.
Islam was like a mental cage. At first, when you open the door, the caged bird stays inside: it is frightened. It has internalized its imprisonment. It takes time for bird to escape, even after someone has opened the doors to its cage.
When a captive lion steps out of his cage, he comes into a wider world than the lion who has known only the wilds. While he was in captivity, there were only two worlds for him - the world of the cage, and the world outside the cage. Now he is free. He roars. He attacks people. He eats them. Yet he is not satisfied, for there is no third world that is neither the world of the cage nor the world outside the cage.
Like a bird, when his cage is opened, stays on his perch, dazzled by freedom, the postponed traveler does not see that his cage, with its bars of anxiety, it is open.
Imagine a dense forest full of tigers and you in a strong steel cage. Knowing that you are well protected by the cage, you watch the tigers fearlessly. Next, you find the tigers in the cage and yourself roaming about in the jungle. Last, the cage disappears and you ride the tigers!
Her beauty was sold for an old man's gold. She's a bird in a gilded cage.
You think human nature is a beast, that it must be put in a cage. But it's the cage that makes the animal bad.
I see at intervals the glance of a curious sort of bird through the close set bars of a cage: a vivid, restless, resolute captive is there; were it but free, it would soar cloud-high.
If the bird does like its cage, and does like its sugar and will not leave it, why keep the door so very carefully shut?
The thing about Luke Cage that makes him different is - on the surface is he's a hero for hire; Luke Cage wants to get paid. Luke Cage in the comic books is like, 'I'm doing this stuff. It's all well and good, but I gotta make a dollar.'
The human soul is like a bird that is born in a cage. Nothing can deprive it of its natural longings, or obliterate the mysterious remembrance of its heritage.
Running made me feel like a bird let out of a cage, I loved it that much.
I can always hear my fans shouting for me and I always get goosebumps walking to the cage wherever I fight. But once the cage door shuts I forget everything else around the world and I focus.
I had, in a way, become 'The Nightmare' in the cage, but also out of the cage. That's why I changed to 'The Dream.' But 'The Nightmare,' is who I am as a fighter and that's the way it's going to stay. I'll be a nightmare inside the cage and a dream outside of it.
When you take the sires of the cage apart, you do not hurt the bird, but you help it. You let it out of its prison. How do you you know that death does not help me when it takes the wires of my cage down?-that it does not release me, and put me into some better place and better condition of life?
I tried to put a bird in a cage. O fool that I am! For the bird was Truth. Sing merrily, Truth: I tried to put Truth in a cage!
The trombones crunched redgold under my bed, and behind my gulliver the trumpets three-wise silverflamed, and there by the door the timps rolling through my guts and out again crunched like candy thunder. Oh, it was wonder of wonders. And then, a bird of like rarest spun heavenmetal, or like silvery wine flowing in a spaceship, gravity all nonsense now, came the violin solo above all the other strings, and those strings were like a cage of silk around my bed. Then flute and oboe bored, like worms of like platinum, into the thick thick toffee gold and silver. I was in such bliss, my brothers.
This site uses cookies to ensure you get the best experience. More info...
Got it!