Quotes About Fear

At this point, a mental institution was a far likelier future home for Jenny than a prison. "But before I do, I need you to help me with something," Jenny said. "Out on the back deck. I've got two dozen containers of gasoline waiting." She shoved the butt of the gun into Maya's spine. "Go.

Now for the really fun part," Jenny said when Maya was done. "Here's a box of matches. Start lighting." Maya's eyes widened. With this much fuel on the dry grass, and with the wind blowing a gale, even one match could instantly combust and burn her. "You're crazy.

I want people to see that true love changes everything. That risking your heart for the right person can give back even the things that you thought were gone forever. I didn't think I'd ever be able to trust again. To love. But you showed me that I could own every part of myself—the good and the bad—without shame. Without fear.

And still, even when he'd told her how he felt about her, and that he wanted their fake relationship to be real, she'd held herself back out of fear that their friends-to-lovers story was too good to be anything but fiction.

How she loved it when he sprinted right over the lines and reduced her boundaries to smithereens. Chloe no longer had any fears of being controlled and Chase no longer held back to make sure he didn't push her too far. All that remained was the sweet ecstasy of trust. And pure love.

Indeed, the whole question of fear is beyond analysis, and there is only one rule, which is, that a man must try to be so much the master of himself that he shall be able to compel himself to do whatever is needful, fear or no fear.

I think that when I wrote those early books I was timid. I still felt the incredible effrontery of announcing myself to the world (in part I mean the WASP world) as a writer and an artist. I had to touch a great many bases, demonstrate my abilities, pay my respects to formal requirements. In short, I was afraid to let myself go.

I am quite prepared to admit that being habitual liars and self-deluders, we have good cause to fear the truth, but I'm not at all ready to stop hoping. There may be some truths that are, after all, our friends in the universe.

Like young men from the dawn of time, I decided to choose the risk of death over certain humiliation.

As I stepped onto the gloomy landing a word formed in my mind: two syllables, starts with a V and rhymes with dire. I froze in place. Nightingale said that everything was true, after a fashion, and that had to include vampires, didn't it? I doubted they were anything like they were in books and on TV, and one thing was for certain — they absolutely weren't going to sparkle in the sunlight.

The night may be dark and full of terrors, I thought, but I've got a big stick.

I had found the upper limit of my courage. Fortunately for me, there is no known lower limit to human stupidity.

All the things laughed then, because there stood man—naked and bereft of all his gifts. All the things save the fox, who looked up at the man and saw long slim fingers unencumbered by claws, fingers that could grasp and take and reshape things to suit man's own purposes. And saw eyes alive with a dreadful intelligence unencumbered by wisdom. And fox was suddenly afraid.

If you're afraid of wolves,' said Varvara Sidorovna, 'don't go to the woods.

What have we got to lose?" I said. Nightingale looked up and gave me a strange, sad smile. "Oh, everything, Peter," he said. "But then, such is life.

As Martin noted, to the detectives conducting his interview, it was a good thing he'd been inebriated, because otherwise he would have wasted time screaming and running about - especially once he realized he was standing in a pool of blood. Instead, with the slow methodical patience of the drunk and terrified, Martin Turner dialed 999 and asked for the police.

But I wasn't some terrified peasant, I was an apprentice and I had been trained by the man who led the reguard at Ettersberg.

insouciance. But there's just something uniquely intimidating about

Was it better to die in the illusion of sunshine and warmth or face death in a cold darkness of reality? Was it better to die in happy ignorance or terrified knowledge? The answer, if you're a Londoner, is that it's better not to die at all.

Your own life is terrifying, but life is an unending astonishment.

If you're afraid they might discover your redneck past, there are a hundred ways to cover your redneck past.

It's always the easy way out, being an existential chicken. Not really being there. It's harder, it's riskier, to be present.

Everybody supports the troops," Dime woofs, "support the troops, support the troops, hell yeah we're so fucking PROUD of our troops, but when it comes to actual money? Like somebody might have to come out of pocket for the troops? Then all the sudden we're on everybody's tight-ass budget. Talk is cheap, I got that, but gimme a break. Talk is cheap but money screams, this is our country, guys. And I fear for it. I think we should all fear for it.

Dread of returning to Iraq equals the direst poverty, and that's how he feels right now, poor , like a shabby homeless kid suddenly thrust into the company of millionaires. Mortal fear is the ghetto of the human soul, to be free of it something like the psychic equivalent of inheriting a hundred million dollars. This is what he truly envies of these people, the luxury of terror as a talking point, and at this moment he feels so sorry for himself that he could break right down and cry.