Quotes & Sayings About Chained Dogs

Most of all I enjoy central-heating control rooms, where men with higher education, chained to their jobs like dogs to their kennels, write the history of their times as a sort of sociological survey and where I learned how the fourth estate was depopulated and the proletariat went from base to superstructure and how the university-trained elite now carries on its work. — Bohumil Hrabal

You taught me what it means to fight for what you love.
You showed me great endurance in a manner that was unusual to me.
You fought for my heart until all the fight in you was gone without neglecting your brain.
You displayed to me what unconditional love should look like, if I were to stare at it in a mirror.
You loved me even on the days I found it difficult to even love myself.
You scooped down to help me up at my lowest.
You chained your heart to mine and stayed by my side even when all the signs gave you red lights about continuing our relationship.
You remained loyal, even when I became disloyal, and fulfilled the belief that many men are dogs.
You hung on longer than I expected,
Loved me more than I could ever imagine.
Some may have called you foolish for staying, but you showed me an aspect of love I've only read about in 1 Corinthians 13. — Pierre Alex Jeanty

The librarian, whom I had never seen before, presided over the library like a watchdog, one of those poor dogs who are deliberately made vicious by being chained up and given little to eat; ot better, like the old, toothless cobra, pale because of centuries of darkness, who guards the king's treasure in the Jungle Book. Paglietta, poor woman, was little less than a lusus naturae: she was small, without breasts or hips, waxen, wilted, and monstrously myopic; she wore glasses so thick and concave that, looking at her head-on, her eyes, light blue, almost white, seemed very far away, stuck at the back of her cranium. She gave the impression of never having been young, although she was certainly not more than thirty, and of having been born there, in the shadows, in that vague odor of mildew and stale air. — Primo Levi