I am in chains. Don't touch my chains.

The wildest hath not such a heart as you.
Run when you will, the story shall be changed:
Apollo flies, and Daphne holds the chase;
The dove pursues the griffin; the mild hind
Makes speed to catch the tiger; bootless speed,
When cowardice pursues and valour flies.

Man, what are you talking about? Me in chains? You may fetter my leg but my will, not even Zeus himself can overpower.

Is the poor privilege to turn the key
Upon the captive, freedom? He’s as far
From the enjoyment of the earth and air
Who watches o’er the chain, as they who wear.

To-day I wear these chains, and am HERE. To-morrow I shall be fetterless! — BUT WHERE?

You barbarians!' he yelled. 'I'll sue the council for every penny it's got! I'll have you hung, drawn and quartered! And whipped! And boiled...until...until...until...until you've had enough.'
Ford was running after him. Very very fast.
'And then I will do it again!' yelled Arthur, 'And when I've finished I will take all the little bits, and I will jump on them!

But the tyrant will chain …’ What? Your legs. ‘But he’ll cut off …’ What? Your head. What is he incapable, then, of chaining up or cutting off? Your power of choice.

I sang in my chains like the sea

Roar'd for the handkerchief that caus'd his pain. But see how oft ambitious aims are cross'd, And chiefs contend 'till all the prize is lost! The Lock, obtain'd with guilt, and kept with pain, In ev'ry place is sought, but sought in vain: 110 With such a prize no mortal must be blest, So heav'n decrees! with heav'n who can contest?

Man is born free but today everywhere he is in chains.

"You are fettered," said Scrooge, trembling. "Tell me why?"
"I wear the chain I forged in life," replied the Ghost. "I made it link by link, and yard by yard; I girded it on of my own free will, and of my own free will I wore it."

Man... cannot learn to forget, but hangs on the past: however far or fast he runs, that chain runs with him.

The child who is decked with prince’s robes and who has jewelled chains round his neck loses all pleasure in his play; his dress hampers him at every step.

In fear that it may be frayed, or stained with dust he keeps himself from the world, and is afraid even to move.

Mother, it is no gain, thy bondage of finery, if it keep one shut off from the healthful dust of the earth, if it rob one of the right of entrance to the great fair of common human life.

A wolf was no less a wolf because a whim of chance caused him to run with the watch-dogs.