Quotes About Fear

The path is smooth that leadeth on to danger.

I durst not laugh for fear of opening my lips and receiving the bad air.

Of all base passions, fear is the most accursed.

Silence that dreadful bell! it frights the isleFrom her propriety.

To fear the worst oft cures the worse.

But I am pigeon-liver'd, and lack gallTo make oppression bitter.

Letting "I dare not" wait upon "I would,"Like the poor cat i' the adage.

Come, seeling night,Scarf up the tender eye of pitiful day,And with thy bloody and invisible handCancel and tear to pieces that great bondWhich keeps me pale! Light thickens, and the crowMakes wing to the rooky wood.

Of all base passions, fear is most accurs'd.

And then it started like a guilty thingUpon a fearful summons.

Ruin hath taught me thus to ruminate,That Time will come and take my love away.This thought is as a death, which cannot chooseBut weep to have that which it fears to lose.

For night's swift dragons cut the clouds full fast, And yonder shines Aurora's harbinger; At whose approach ghosts wandring here and there Troop home to church-yards.... For fear lest day should look their shames upon, They willfully exile themselves from light, And must for aye consort with black brow'd night.

My fell of hairWould at a dismal treatise rouse and stirAs life were in 't. I have supp'd full with horrors.

The very ratsInstinctively have quit it.

Glamis thou art, and Cawdor; and shalt beWhat thou art promis'd. Yet do I fear thy nature;It is too full o' the milk of human kindnessTo catch the nearest way.

Now he'll outstare the lightning. To be furiousIs to be frighted out of fear.

O coward conscience, how dost thou afflict me!

I am sure care's an enemy to life.

O! the blood more stirsTo rouse a lion than to start a hare!

Extreme fear can neither fight nor fly.

O God of battles! steel my soldiers' hearts;Possess them not with fear; take from them nowThe sense of reckoning, if the opposed numbersPluck their hearts from them.

Conscience is but a word that cowards use,Devis'd at first to keep the strong in awe.

We must not make a scarecrow of the law,Setting it up to fear the birds of prey,And let it keep one shape, till custom make itTheir perch and not their terror.

When daisies pied and violets blue,And lady-smocks all silver-white,And cuckoo-buds of yellow hueDo paint the meadows with delight,The cuckoo then, on every tree,Mocks married men; for thus sings he, Cuckoo;Cuckoo, cuckoo: O word of fear,Unpleasing to a married ear!