Quotes About Fear

Maker of All Things, including appetite, including stealth, including the fear that makes all of us, sometime or other, flee for the sake of our small and precious lives, let me abide in your shadow— let me hold on to the edge of your robe as you determine what you must let be lost and what will be saved.

Those days I was willing, but frightened. What I mean is, I wanted to live my life but I didn't want to do what I had to do to go on, which was: to go back.

Your heart is beating, isn't it? You're not in chains, are you? There is nothing more pathetic than caution when headlong might save a life, even, possibly, your own

And they went on. "Listen, the heart-shackles are not, as you think, death, illness, pain, unrequited hope, not loneliness, but lassitude, rue, vainglory, fear, anxiety, selfishness.

When the thumb of fear lifts, we are so alive.

What good does it do to lie all day in the sun loving what is easy? It never grew easy, but at last I grew peaceful: all summer my fear diminished as they bloomed through the water like flowers, like flecks of an uncertain dream, while I lay on the rocks, reaching into the darkness, learning little by little to love our only world.

Brother Patrick's rosy face turned white. "Make haste!" he said to the other monks. "Gather the books and hide.

The sabertooth crept forward.

I fear you both are speaking nonsense, but I like your original thinking!

Jack shivered. He wiped raindrops off his glasses.

Ahhh!" Jack screamed and fell back into the canoe. The

I find the dead easier to be around than the dying. They are not in pain, not afraid of death. There are no awkward silences and conversations that dance around the obvious. They aren't scary...Cadavers, once you get used to them--and you do that quite fast--are surprisingly easy to be around.

I ask Dennis how, knowing what he knows and seeing what he sees, he ever manages to board a plane. He points out that most crashing airplanes don't hit the ground from thirty thousand feet. The vast majority crash on takeoff or landing, either on or near the ground. Shanahan says 80 to 85 percent of plane crashes are potentially survivable.

Jan Bondeson collected dozens of them for his witty and admirably researched book Buried Alive.

People that trust themselves a dozen miles from the city, in strange houses, with servants they don't know, needn't be surprised if they wake up some morning and find their throats cut.

Frightened, I ran into the study to tell him and asked, "Are you going to call Dr. Schloss?"5 By which he deduced that I had eaten the pennies to get attention. I hadn't, but that's what having a reputation means. It's like getting a carved owl for your birthday and politely saying how much you like it; soon, everyone thinks that's what you want and you're overrun with owls.

For a moment my soul was elevated from its debasing and miserable fears to which these sights were the monuments and the remembrances. For an instant I dared to shake off my chains, and look around me with a free and lofty spirit; but the iron had eaten into my flesh, and I sank again, trembling and hopeless, into my miserable self.

I wished sometimes to shake off all thought and feeling, but I learned that there was but one means to overcome the sensation of pain, and that was death - a state which I feared yet did not understand.

I was new to sorrow, but it did not the less alarm me.

How many things are we upon the brink of discovering if cowardice or carelessness did not restrain our inquiries

There was always scope for fear,so long as anything I love remained behind

I trembled, and my heart failed within me; when, on looking up, I saw, by the light of the moon, the daemon at the casement.

I do not ever remember to have trembled at a tale of superstition or to have feared the apparition of a spirit. Darkness had no effect upon my fancy, and a churchyard was to me merely the receptacle of bodies deprived of life, which, from being the seat of beauty and strength, had become food for the worm.

Who shall conceive the horrors of my secret toil as I dabbled among the unhallowed damps of the grave or tortured the living animal to animate the lifeless clay?