Quotes About Fear

There was a smell about the place, which I imagined as the smell of misery and fear, though I supposed it was no more than the niff of ancient squalor and an absence of drains.

I fought back the memory of our wedding night. He was a virgin; his hands trembled when he touched me. I had been afraid too--with better reason. And then in the dawn he had held me, naked back against his chest, his thighs warm and strong behind my own, murmuring into the clouds of my hair, Dinna be afraid. There's two of us now.

Facing something down doesn´t mean you aren´t afraid of it, I said dryly. Usually quite the opposite.

Joy. Fear. Fear, most of all. His hand came up and smoothed my curls away from his nose I havena been afraid for a verra long time, Sassenach, he whispered. But now I think I am. For there is something to be lost, now. Page 394

It's a terrible thing, to think it might be me that would be the threat, that I could kill you with my love-but it's true.

There was nothing frightening about the dead man; there never is. No matter how ugly the manner in which a man dies, it's only the presence of a suffering human soul that is horrifying; once gone, what is left is only an object

You tell me exactly what happened, ye filthy wee pervert," Fraser whispered, his breath hot on Grey's face and smelling of ale. He shook Grey slightly. "Every word. Every motion. Everything." Grey got just enough breath to answer. "No," he said defiantly. "Go ahead and kill me.

I want to protect ye, Sassenach-spread myself over ye like a cloak and shield you and the child wi' my body.... I would do anything for ye...and yet...there's nothing I can do. It doesna matter how strong I am, or how willing; I canna go with you where ye must go...not even help ye at all. And to think of the things that might happen, and me helpless to stop them...aye, I'm afraid, Sassenach.

My God, he thought, I'm going to die before I've been born.

Sometimes a shadow rises, and death lies nameless in the dark.

It Ã¢â'¬Â¦ wasna a scream of fear, or even anger. It Ã¢â'¬Â¦ ehm Ã¢â'¬Â¦ well, it was the way a woman will scream, sometimes, if she's Ã¢â'¬Â¦ pleased." "In bed, you mean." It wasn't a question. "So do men. Sometimes." You idiot! Of all the things you might have said Ã¢â'¬Â¦

I'm none so brave as I was before, ken? he said very softly. Not brave enough to live without ye anymore.

You are my courage, as I am your conscience," he whispered. "You are my heart—and I your compassion. We are neither of us whole, alone. Do ye not know that, Sassenach?" "I do know that," I said, and my voice shook. "That's why I'm so afraid. I don't want to be half a person again, I can't bear it.

Is thee afraid of me, Rachel?" he whispered. "I am," she whispered back, and closed her hand on his wounded shoulder, lightly but hard enough for him to feel the hurt of it. "And I am afraid for thee, as well. But there are things I fear much more than death—and to be without thee is what I fear most.

It was Jamie's fear that he would lose her—that she would go, swing out into a dark and solitary space without him, unless he could somehow bind her to him, keep her with him. But, Christ, what a risk to take—with a woman so shocked and brutalized, how could he risk it?

Feel my heart," he said. His voice sounded thick to his own ears. "Tell me if it stops.

His mouth tightened up and he says, 'I thought this was the young man who only a week past was shouting that he wasn't afraid to die. Surely a man who's not afraid to die isn't afraid of a few lashes?' and he gives Jamie a poke in the belly wi' the handle of the whip. "Jamie met Randall's eye straight on then, and said, 'No, but I'm afraid I'll freeze stiff before ye're done talking.

Calmar el dolor y el miedo a la muerte servía para atenuar los propios temores.

To stand against a crowd would take something more than ordinary courage; something that went beyond human instinct. And I feared I did not have it, and fearing, was ashamed.

You'd die for them, happily," Hal had said, in the long night watch when I'd kept him breathing. "Your family. But at the same time you think, Christ, I can't die! What might happen to them if I weren't here?

YOU KNOW THAT SOMETHING is coming. Something—a specific, dire, and awful something—will happen. You envision it, you push it away. It rolls slowly, inexorably, back into your mind. You make what preparation you can. Or you think you do, though your bones know the truth—there isn't any way to sidestep, accommodate, lessen the impact. It will come, and you will be helpless before it.

And so he began haltingly to speak—in Gaelic, as it was the only tongue that didn't seem to require any effort. He understood that he was to speak of what filled his heart, and so began with Scotland—and Culloden. Of grief. Of loss. Of fear.

Seen without the suddenness of surprise, there was nothing frightening about the dead man; there never is. No matter how ugly the manner in which a man dies, it's only the presence of a suffering human soul that is horrifying; once gone, what is left is only an object.

Well, that's the hell of it, isn't it?" she said, turning away. "You never know, but you have to act anyway, don't you?