Quotes About Vulnerability

I have a dreadful fear that the more you try to prevent revealing the self the more you do.

The fear of being laughed at makes cowards of us all.

You show you care, you die.You show you fear, you die.You show nothing, maybe you live.

We are not born with courage, but neither are we born with fear.

To be alive is to be afraid, and much to our advantage in many cases, since alarm often preserves us from danger.

I'm a woman who carries around all these layers of fear and vulnerability.

What's important is how you deal with fear. I face it head-on, but I'm not too proud to admit that I do get afraid sometimes.

The ground of fearlessness is fear. In order to be fearless, you have to stand in the middle of your fear.

Some people won't even own a dog for fear it will die - you can't bubble-wrap your heart.

Her courage was a guise. She wondered if courage always was, or if there were those who truly felt no fear.

I just - you know, some people just have some very full laughter - full of joy - and have no shame or fear of letting that out.

Why do we even bother? Why do we make ourselves so open to such easy damage? Is it all loneliness? Is it all fear? Or is it just to experience those narcotic moments of belonging with someone else?

Don't fear anything for your letters, they are burnt one by one and I hope you do the same with mine.

Let us not fear the hidden. Or each other.

You crystal break, for fear of breaking it: Careless and careful hands like faults commit.

I would rather be a coward than brave because people hurt you when you are brave.

Unless we know people well, we sit around with our words and our minds starched, afraid of being ourselves for fear of wrinkling them.

We substitute, or we rather hide, this fear of real intimacy by a superficial kind of friendliness, which is quite nice, but nevertheless, very shallow.

DEPENDENT, adj. Reliant upon another's generosity for the support which you are not in a position to exact from his fears.

I think that's still the most primal fear of all humans: to be eaten.

We are lovers, fear and I. She calls to me, and I let her in.

Because that, more than any monster, was what Sam had feared: that he was weak and cowardly. He had a terrible fear of being afraid.

Fear and niceness, the handmaids of all women, or more truly, woman its pretty self.

I had insecurities and fears like everybody does, and I got over it. But I was interested in the parts of me that struggled with those things.