Quotes About Fear

There was fear, of course. That was always with her, something she'd accepted and learned to live with a long time ago. But, right beside it, other emotions were pushing up, fighting for space and light and air. Things like excitement and desire, longing and hope. Agony and uncertainty. Things that made fear seem almost comfortable, like broken-in pair of leather shoes or a perfectly fitted glove. Fear, at least, was familiar.

You long to jump off, but you just can't work up the nerve, so you tell yourself you're content to look at the view.

Don't you just hate it when you're having a nice relaxing soak in the tub, and a murderer shows up?

I think the way we talk about cancer has really evolved. I remember the way my grandmother used to talk about it, like a death sentence, no-one would even mention the word.

It turned out that the United States was a desperately lonely place, where everyone had been worrying that a single missed phone call might change one's destiny.

Being a mother was like being trapped in the first fifteen minutes of a horror film. Everything was fine, lovely. But there was this persistent sense of dread.

They could not love Rosalind as much as they loved Olivia because they knew she could be taken from them.

Gypsies, ma! Gypsies! They've come to steal me away!

I've been quite fascinated by the relative insignificance of human existence, the shortness of life. We might as well be a letter in a word in a sentence on a page in a book in a library in a city in one country in this enormous universe! And that kind of fear and insignificance has kept me awake at night.

it feels like I've been thrown down a chute. I'm careening forward, trying not to get too banged up, utterly out of control of my descent, and somewhere in the dark, there's a hole waiting for me to fall through it.

On September 13, we were the kindling, and a monstrous god leaned over us to breathe. Clouds melted, brush trembled, and the ocean burned white like molten glass...I was hoping, like everyone else who lay awake listening to the wind, that no pyromaniacs were out there, trembling in thrall beneath the god monster, reaching for a match.

The time had come, Sean determined, to face the woman of his nightmares, of his dreams.

I know that sometimes when you are really worried about something, it ends up not being nearly as bad as you think it will be, and you get to be relieved that you were just being silly, worrying so much over nothing. But sometimes it is just the opposite. It can happen that whatever you are worried about will be even worse than you could have possibly imagined, and you find that you were right to be worried, and even that, maybe, you weren't worried enough.

Worrying was painful .... but compared to the alternative, a privilege

As Budd Boetticher has put it: What counts is what the heroine provokes,or rather what she represents. She is the one, or rather the love or fear she inspires in the hero, or else the concern he feels for her, or who makes him act the way he does. In herself the woman has not the slightest importance.

La guerra, que resuena a lo lejos, me dice que hay una noche más oscura detrás de esta noche del patio.

La población está enferma de terror, un mal contagioso para el cual no hay cura.

Mi miedo es un animal en crecimiento que exige alimentación y que se va tragando todo.

Scarecrows weren't made to scare the crows, they were made to scare the corn

He says the scarecrows—" —weren't made to scare the crows, they were made to scare the corn.

Miguel hated the corn, said the plants seemed . . . alive. When Finn reminded him that, duh, of course the corn was alive, all plants were alive, Miguel replied that the corn sounded alive alive. As if it wasn't just growing, it was ripping itself out of the ground and sneaking around on skinny white roots.

She was sorry she hadn't been braver when she'd had the chance.

Thinking that you can't protect the ones you love, you have to hope they're smart enough to save themselves, And hope, well. Who had any of that to spare?

The fear of being noticed after a hundred years disappears as I look into a pair of autumn-colored eyes.