Quotes About Insecurity

It appears to me that many cultured people are attacked by the same disease. Criticism of ourselves and everything else is corroding our active power; we have no stable basis, no point of issue, no faith in life.

Freedom of enterprise was from the beginning not altogether a blessing. As the liberty to work or to starve, it spelled toil, insecurity, and fear for the vast majority of the population. If the individual were no longer compelled to prove himself on the market, as a free economic subject, the disappearance of this kind of freedom would be one of the greatest achievements of civilization.

Finding bliss becomes one with the fear of losing it.

In this county, we had to walk, eat, sleep and love in fear.

And I like asking questions, to keep learning people with big egos might not want to look unsure.

I'm not scared of anything in particular, but I am motivated by a fear of failure as opposed to a need to succeed.

Those who hate themselves, cannot love or trust others.

Up until now, her makeup and mini-skirt had served as a sort of armour. And ocne you fitted yourself out with armour like that it was hard to take off.

Oh, you should never, never doubt what nobody is sure about.

Troubled men both, he thinks, Wriothesley and Riche, and alike in some ways, sidling around the peripheries of their own souls, tapping at the walls: oh, what is that hollow sound?

You have no right to assume that you'll be able to write because you could write yesterday.

Did I?' Norfolk looks alarmed. 'It's come to that?

Nationalism is as thin as a thread, perhaps that's why many feel it must be anxiously guarded

I can't trust the people I care about not to hurt me. And I'm not sure I can trust myself not to hurt them, either.

We all wind up drawn to what we're afraid of, drawn to try to find a way to make ourselves safe from a thing by crawling inside of it, by loving it, by becoming it.

I'm afraid my voice is going to break. I am afraid she is going to hear how much this hurts.

I envy what I fear and hate what I envy.

I hate being a fool. I hate the idea of my emotions getting the better of me, making me weak. But my fear of being a fool turned me into one.

I hate you because your father loves you even though you're a human brat born to his unfaithful wife, while mine never cared for me, though I am a prince of Faerie. I hate you because Locke used you and your sister to make Nicasia cry after he stole her from me. Besides which, after the tournament, Balekin never failed to throw you in my face as the mortal who could best me.

She suddenly understood why she had let him kiss her in the diner, why she had wanted him at all. She wanted to control him. He was every arrogant boyfriend that had treated her mother badly. He was every boy that told her she was too freaky, who had laughed at her, or just wanted her to shut up and make out. He was a thousand times less real than Roiben.

You want me to say something? Okay. Sometimes I think I am what you made me. And sometimes I don't know who I am at all. And either way I'm not happy.

And if it stings a little that he admires me primarily for my ruthlessness, well, I suppose there should be some comfort that he admires me at all.

She was torn between the impulse to run and the urge to curl up like a pill bug, close her eyes, tuck her head beneath her arms, and play the game of since-I-can't-see-monsters-monsters-can't-see-me.

I am not weak, he wanted to shout, but he wasn't sure he could say that aloud, either