Quotes About Insecurity

Poisonous jealousy thrummed through my veins.

I smile when I'm nervous.

they seemed like talismans that might actually keep the monsters at bay. Until she realized that she was one of the monsters.

What other stuff do they teach you at federal agent school?" I ask. It shouldn't bother me that he's fitting in so well. So what if he's faking it? Good for him. I guess what bothers me is him faking it better than I am.

Jude,¨ he´d said, running a hand up my calf, ¨are you afraid of me?¨ page 207

That's really paranoid," I say admiringly. "I'm going with that.

I hate seeing him with Nicasia. I hate the thought of his touching her. I hate that this is my plan, that I have no one to be angry with but myself. I am an idiot. Page 173

I imagine what it would be like to have my own crown, my own power. Maybe I wouldnt have to be afraid to love him. Page 305

Scared, silly-scared, scared, scared, scared," Lutie chanted against her neck.

You could totally like Tamara -" - Jasper "What does it matter?" Call exploded... "Don't you get it? It doesn't matter. She'll always like Aaron better." Jasper's eyes widened. "Whoa," he said. "Looks like I hit on an awkward truth here.

You're not like other girls," Aidan said, pressing her back against the cushions of the couch. "You're cool." Tana tried to be cool, tried to act as if it didn't bother her when he flirted with anything that moved—and, that one time, when he was really drunk, with a coatrack.

I have trained every day to be dangerous, and he is entirely in my power, yet I'm the one who is afraid.

Many times in his first nine years, Prince Cardan slept in the hay of the stables when his mother didn't want him in their suite of rooms. It was warm there, and he could pretend he was hiding, could pretend that someone was looking for him. Could pretend that when he was not found, it was only because the spot he'd chosen was so extremely clever.

Why am i the way i am?" His tone makes it clear he's proposing something i might suggest he ask, not really wondering about it. "There are no real answers,Jude.Why was i cruel to Folk? Why was i awful to you? Because I could be. Because I like it. Because, fot a moment, when i was at my worst, i felt powerful, and most of the time, i felt powerless, despite being a prince and the son of the High King of Faerie.

Here's why I don't like these stories: They highlight that I am vulnerable. No matter how careful I am, eventually I'll make another misstep. I am weak. I am fragile. I am mortal. I hate that most of all. Even if, by some miracle, I could be better than them, I will never be one of them.

She'd been afraid of herself. Somebody needed to keep her in check, and so that person became Charlie herself. Making sure she got knocked down every time things were going well, picking the wrong people to love, getting fired from jobs, screwing up. Charlie had been walking away from herself her whole life.

It seems I have a singular taste for women who threaten me.

The mortals no longer want you.' Wren shook her head, because that couldn't be true. Her mother and father loved her. Her mother cut the crusts off her sandwiches and kissed her on the tip of her nose to make her giggle. Her father cuddled up with her to watch movies and then carried her to bed when she fell asleep on the couch. She knew they loved her. And yet the certainty with which Lord Jarel spoke plucked at her terror

Fearing him is a habit, a habit I could break with a bolt to his heart.

That's not how I'd thought of myself, as a runaway. I was someone with nowhere to go. Waiting until I was older. Or less afraid. Or more powerful.

I feel his gaze on my back, pricking the hairs on my neck. It is all I can do not to run.

Jude, he'd said, running a hand up my calf, are you afraid of me?

Am I beautiful like you are?" I ask Nicasia, genuinely curious. "No," she says, darting a look toward Valerian. She picks up something from the ground. "You are nothing like us.

Cardan begins to strip off his shirt, showing an expanse of moon-pale skin and a back with a delicate tracery of faded scars.