If you're going to be a prisoner of your own mind, the least you can do is make sure it's well furnished.

Prison is where you promise yourself the right to live.

we are all prisoners of our thoughts.

A mind enclosed in language is in prison.

...most of us build prisons for ourselves and after we occupy them for a period of time we become accustomed to their walls and accept the false premise that we are incarcerated for life. As soon as that belief takes hold of us we abandon hope of ever doing more with our lives and of ever giving our dreams a chance to be fulfilled. We become puppets and begin to suffer living deaths. It may be praiseworthy and noble to sacrifice your life to a cause or a business or the happiness of others, but if you are miserable and unfulfilled in that lifestyle, and know it, then to remain in it is a hypocrisy, a lie, and a rejection of the faith placed in you by your creator.

We are powerfully imprisoned by the terms in which we have been conducted to think.

Time is our delight and our prison. It binds all human beings together, since we all share the pleasures and burdens of memory, and we all know the anticipation of cherished goals and the dark prospect of personal mortality.

The eyes of others our prisons; their thoughts our cages.

A mind, like a home, is furnished by its owner, so if one's life is cold and bare he can blame none but himself. You have a chance to select from pretty elegant furnishings.

Thinking of the key, each confirms a prison.

Rejoice that you are in prison. Here you can think of your soul.

We are prisoners of our own metaphors, metaphorically speaking.

En travaillant pour les seuls biens matériels, nous bâtissons nous-mêmes notre prison. Nous nous enfermons solitaires, avec notre monnaie de cendre qui ne procure rien qui vaille de vivre.

I am aware of being in a beautiful prison, from which I can only escape by writing.