Quotes About Fear

My father could have made good money selling them, but if the officials found out he would have been publicly executed for inciting a rebellion.

Games anyway. Who cares what they do to me? What really scares me is what they might do to my mother and Prim, how my family might suffer now because of my impulsiveness. Will they take their few belongings, or send my mother to prison and Prim to the community home, or kill them? They wouldn't kill them, would they? Why not? What do they

No he dejado de temblar. Quizá la chica no se acuerde de mí, aunque sé que me engaño: no se te olvida la cara de la persona que era tu última esperanza. Me pregunto si disfrutará viéndome morir.

I clench his hands to the point of pain. "Stay with me." His pupils contract to pinpoints, dilate again rapidly, and then return to something resembling normalcy. "Always," he murmurs.

But one day I'l have to explain about my nightmares. Why they came. Why they won't ever really go away. I'll tell them how I survive it. I'll tell them that on bad mornings, it feels impossible to take pleasure in anything because I'm afraid it could be taken away. That's when I make a list in my head of every act of goodness I've seen someone do. It's like a game. Repetitive. Even a little tedious after more than twenty years. But there are much worse games to play.

No mutt is good. All are meant to damage you. Some take your life, like the monkeys. Others your reason, like the tracker jackers. However, the true atrocities, the most frightening, incorporate a perverse psychological twist designed to terrify the victim. The sight of the wolf mutts with the dead tributes' eyes. The sound of the jabberjays replicating Prim's tortured screams. The smell of Snow's

Gunfire rips through the crowd, and several people near me slump to the ground.

Underground, where I dread dying, which is stupid because even if I die above ground, the next thing they'll do is bury me underground anyway.

The little girl who was watching me kneels beside a motionless woman, screeching and trying to rouse her. Another wave of bullets slices across the chest of her yellow coat, staining it with red, knocking the girl onto her back. For a moment, looking at her tiny crumpled form, I lose my ability to form words.

Me meto en una pesadilla de la que despierto sólo para encontrarme con algo aún peor. Las cosas que más miedo me dan, las cosas que más temo que le sucedan a los demás, se manifiestan con unos detalles tan vívidos que me parecen reales. Cada vez que me despierto pienso que por fin se ha acabado todo, pero no, tan sólo es el comienzo de un nuevo capítulo de torturas.

And while I was talking, the idea of actually losing Peeta hit me again and I realized how much I don't want him to die. And it's not about the sponsors. And it's not about what will happen back home. And it's not just that I don't want to be alone. It's him. I do not want to lose the boy with the bread.

aren't they the very reason I have to try to fight? Because what has been done to them is so wrong, so beyond justification, so evil that there is no choice? Because no one has the right to treat them as they have been treated? Yes. This is the thing to remember when fear threatens to swallow me up. What I am about to do, whatever any of us are forced to endure, it is for them.

Trust is important." "I think it's more important than love. I mean, I love all kinds of things I don't trust. Thunderstorms... white liquor... snakes. Sometimes I think I love them because I can't trust them, and how mixed up is that?

I want to die as myself. Does that make any sense?" he asks. I shake my head. How could he die as anyone but himself? "I don't want them to change me in there. Turn me into some kind of monster that I'm not.

But I Can't let my fear show.absouloutly positively,I am live on every screen in Panem.

My nightmares are usually about losing you," he says.

Umut,korkudan güçlü tek duygudur.

on bad mornings, it feels impossible to take pleasure in anything because I'm afraid it could be taken away. That's when I make a list in my head of every act of goodness I've seen someone do.

I will kill you.

Are you, are you Coming to the tree Where I told you to run, so we'd both be free?

you're playing on their natural instincts to flee danger. Thinking like your prey . . . that's where you find their vulnerabilities,

I played possum. I did this, as the possum does, out of fear.

All my life, I should not have worried so much about looking foolish; I see that now. Signs matter. And all waves are dangerous, especially the ones you refuse to see coming.

It's not good to have fears like this. It only makes it more likely that you'll die that way—a self-fulfilling prophecy.