Quotes About Insecurity

No one is more arrogant, more aggressive or more disdainful towards women, than a man who is fearful for his masculinity.

I loved being loved: the bleakness of my future terrified me.

Le plus médiocre des mâles se croit en face des femmes un demi-dieu.

How many people have been thus led, through lack of self-confidence, to stifle their most justified doubts?

America, like England and Scotland, had never really been a gay nation. Rather it had been heavily and noisily jocular, with a substratum of worry and insecurity, in the image of its patron saint, Lincoln of the rollicking stories and the tragic heart.

There never will be a time when there won't be a large proportion of people who feel poor no matter how much they have, and envy their neighbors who know how to wear cheap clothes showily, and envy neighbors who can dance or make love or digest better.

Every moment everyone felt fear, nameless and omnipresent. They were as jumpy as men in a plague district. Any sudden sound, any unexplained footstep, any unfamiliar script on an envelope, made them startle; and for months they never felt secure enough to let themselves go, in complete sleep. And with the coming of fear went out their pride.

America, like England and Scotland, had never really been a gay nation. Rather, it had been heavily and noisily jocular, with a substratum of worry and insecurity, in the image of its patron saint, Lincoln of the rollicking stories and tragic heart.

America, like England and Scotland, had never really been a gay nation. Rather it had been heavily and noisily jocular, with a substratum of worry and insecurity, in the image of its patron saint, Lincoln of the rollicking stories and the tragic heart. But at least there had been hearty greetings, man to man; there had been clamorous jazz for dancing, and the lively, slangy catcalls of young people, and the nervous blatting of tremendous traffic.

How many millions of American husbands had sat on the edges of how many millions of hotel beds, from San Francisco to Stockholm, sighing to the unsympathetic telephone, Oh, not in? ruffling through the telephone book, and again sighing, Oh, not in?-- looking for playmates for their handsome wives, while the wives listened blandly and never once cried, But I don't want any one else! Aren't we two enough?

He was irritated by her self-election to superiority; he was bothered by her desire to have this new suitor consider her superior.

How often attachment is mistaken for love! Even when the relationship is a good one, love is spoiled by attachment, with its insecurity, possessiveness, and pride; and then when love is gone, all you have left to show for it are the "souvenirs" of love, the scars of attachment.

had been dragged under by a riptide of negative self-talk: I am not enough. I am rejected, no matter how hard I try and no matter what good I do. I am alone and not wanted. All fears that ending my marriage had stirred up and brought to the surface.

The ego is subjective so does not convey accurate information. Drawing from its biased, limited, and more often than not incorrect conclusions, it can distort reality and can even lie about what is actually happening. Ultimately, the ego never feels good enough, smart enough, strong enough, sexy enough, or enough of anything to truly relax and let the world in.

Suddenly I've had enough of all this. I've had enough of being made to feel insecure and paranoid and wondering what's going on

Other people's eyes are limitless and that's what scares me.

You're perfect,' he says almost fiercely. 'You don't need to change one hair. One freckle. One little toe. And if it's me that's made you feel you should do this … then there's something wrong with me.

What if our children are all super-bright and I can't understand what they're saying and they look down on me because I haven't got a PhD?

Are you so scared people will hate you?" "What?" I stare at him, not knowing how to react. "What are you talking about?" He gestures at the phone. "Your emails are like one big cry. Kiss, kiss, hug, hug, please like me, please like me!

Sometimes I worry my ideas might dry up', he says, an odd tone to his voice. 'I'm not sure who I'd be without them. Sometimes I think I'm really just an empty vessel floating about, downloading ideas and not much else.

I never used to be scared. But over the last few years, I've gradually got more and more nervous. I know it's completely irrational.

Some people lose their nerve for riding or skiing or driving; well, I've lost my nerve for life.

She's also got a suntan, which must mean she's just come back from Mauritius or somewhere, and suddenly I feel a bit pale and weedy in comparison.

To the man who is afraid everything rustles.