Quotes About Fear

Alone, I often fall down into nothingness. I must push my foot stealthily lest I should fall off the edge of the world into nothingness. I have to bang my head against some hard door to call myself back to the body.

She had the perpetual sense, as she watched the taxi cabs, of being out, out, far out to sea and alone; she always had the feeling that it was very, very, dangerous to live even one day.

How many times have people used a pen or paintbrush because they couldn't pull the trigger?

she always had the feeling that it was very, very dangerous to live even one day.

Fear no more, says the heart, committing its burden to some sea, which sighs collectively for all sorrows, and renews, begins, collects, lets fall

Yes yes yes I do like you. I am afraid to write the stronger word.

I'm terrified of passive acquiescence. I live in intensity.

For what more terrifying revelation can there be than that it is the present moment? That we survive the shock at all is only possible because the past shelters us on one side and the future on another.

But he could not taste, he could not feel. In the teashop among the tables and the chattering waiters the appalling fear came over him- he could not feel. He could reason; he could read, Dante for example, quite easily…he could add up his bill; his brain was perfect; it must be the fault of the world then- that he could not feel.

So on a summer's day waves collect, overbalance, and fall; collect and fall; and the whole world seems to be saying 'that is all' more and more ponderously, until even the heart in the body which lies in the sun on the beach says too 'that is all'. Fear no more, says the heart. Fear no more, says the heart, committing its burden to some sea, which sighs collectively for all sorrows, and renews, begins, collects, lets fall.

For if it is rash to walk into a lion's den unarmed, rash to navigate the Atlantic in a rowing boat, rash to stand on one foot on top of St. Paul's, it is still more rash to go home alone with a poet.

Little animal that I am, sucking my flanks in and out with fear, I stand here, palpitating, trembling. But I will not be afraid. I will bring the whip down on my flanks. I am not a whimpering little animal making for the shadow.

There was in Lily a thread of something; a flare of something; something of her own Mrs. Ramsay liked very much indeed, but no man would, she feared. [...] He was not in love of course; it was one of those unclassified affections of which there are so many.

He was afraid he did not understand beauty apart form human beings.

Why is life so tragic; so like a little strip of pavement over an abyss.

Asa, intr-o zi de vara valurile se aduna, se inalta, cumpanindu-se, si cad; se aduna si cad; si universul intreg pare sa spuna, sa spuna mereu, "asta e tot" mereu mai apasat, iar inima din trupul care sta intins la soare pe tarm spune si ea. Asta e tot. Nu te mai teme, spune inima. Nu te mai teme,spune inima, incredintandu-si povara vreunei mari care suspina obstesc pentru toate tristetile; si reia, incepe, aduna, lasa sa cada.

It was the present moment. No one need wonder that Orlando started, pressed her hand to her heart, and turned pale. For what more terrifying revelation can there be than that it is the present moment?

I will come,' said Peter, but he sat on for a moment. What is this terror? what is this ecstasy? he thought to himself. What is it that fills me with extraordinary excitement? It is Clarissa, he said. For there she was.

An open page displays lines from Cymbeline, a song of death, a lament: "'Fear no more the heat o' the sun/Nor the furious winter's rages.

For if it is rash to walk into a lion's den unarmed, rash to navigate the Atlantic in a rowing boat, rash to stand on one foot on the top of St Paul's, it is still more rash to go home alone with a poet

know that women are an overmatch for them, and therefore they choose the weakest or the most ignorant. If they did not think so, they never could be afraid of women knowing as much as themselves.

çünkü arkas?nda belli bir neden yoksa kad?nlar herhangi bir ilgiden çok kuÅŸkulan?rlar, gizlemeye ve bast?rmaya öyle fena al??m??lard?r ki, kendilerine dikilen bir göz k?rp?ld??? anda f?rlay?p kaçmaya haz?rd?rlar.

Here is something definite, something real. Thus, waking from a midnight dream of horror, one hastily turns on the light and lies quiescent, worshipping the chest of drawers, worshipping solidity, worshipping reality, worshipping the impersonal world which is a proof of some existence other than ours. That is what one wants to be sure of…

there was the terror; the overwhelming incapacity, one's parents giving it into one's hands, this life, to be lived to the end, to be walked with serenely; there was in the depths of her heart an awful fear.