Quotes About Fear

My relationship with death remains the same -- I'm strongly against it.

The chief problem about death, incidentally, is the fear that there may be no afterlife–a depressing thought, particularly for those who have bothered to shave. Also, there is the fear that there is an afterlife but no one will know where it's being held.

It's not that I'm afraid to die. I just don't want to be there when it happens.

Early in life I was visited by the bluebird of anxiety.

I am not afraid of death, I just don't want to be there when it happens.

I'm not afraid of death; I just don't want to be there when it happens.

I'm not afraid of death; I just don't want to be there when it happens.

Todd paused and stared into Terrence's eyes. there was no understanding there, just a white-hot rage and fear. he was looking at Todd the way you would look at a kid on ritalin who'd just taken a loaded shotgun down from the mantel.

It's like those Christians that say that if there wasn't a God they'd be out there robbing, raping, and murdering folks. If that's true, and the only reason they aren't out committing crimes is because they're afraid to go to hell, then they aren't really good people.

Ah fuck, he's going to gnaw my arm off; I'm losing a limb. I can't go through life with one arm. I mean, fuck, I'm already a hideous rodent with no game," he said, sniffling. "I'll be a wobbly, off-balanced dipshit who lost his arm to an ass. And not even the good type of ass. "Are you crying?" "No, no, I have sweat in my eyes," he explained as the donkey's tongue kept licking his face.

Courage is being afraid and going ahead and trying anyway. One can still be afraid and still be courageous.

I was the kid who always thought I was chickenshit, and I had been terrified for most of my life. In treatment, people were suddenly loving me for me. Unconditionally. I had told them the goriest, most horrible stuff about myself … and they hugged me for it. This was what I had been looking for forever— a place to fit in.

Every culture I've ever been subjected to appears to be frightened," he explains. "I've been working as a psychotherapist for 20 years, and if I could boil down every problem that ever walked through any office that I've occupied—and this includes when I've been alone in the office—every human being suffers from two things in varying degrees of intensity, two things that are taught to us. They're called self-doubt and fear.

The problem is that we're afraid, and that's the reason we fight each other. We keep making it about other countries or religions, and it's not. Why can't we sit down and talk about what we're afraid of? We're afraid to tell the truth.

If you walk through your fear that something must be wrong with you, then what you always find on the other side is that there's nothing wrong with you. And there's nothing to be afraid of," he tells her. "What happens then?" Katie asks, sobbing. "When you get to that other side, there's only one thing waiting—joy.

Nada querría más que estirar este rato delicioso como un cuento sin principio ni fin, hasta que el mundo fuera otra vez simple y no hubiera tantos cañones apuntándome...

La muerte toma siempre la forma de la alcoba que nos contiene.

Si la sustancia durable del hombre no es otra sino el miedo; y si la vida es un inaplazable mortal miedo a la muerte, puesto que ya no puede sentir miedo, puesto que ya no puede morir, sólo un muerto, profunda y valerosamente, puede disponerse a vivir.

It's the heart afraid of breaking that never learns to dance.

The road is not difficult because of rivers or mountains. It is difficult because of your fear of the rivers and mountains.

Hesitation becomes doubt. Doubt turns into fear. Fear leads to inaction. By then, you're out of the game.

After sitting for so long in the ruined cabin, the objects we had taken must have been shocked when we pulled them out into the world. I could almost sense their fear, coming through the bags.

I was afraid that if she went on much longer, her fingers would scrape away my skin, rip my flesh, crush my bones. The pillow was damp with saliva, and I wanted to scream.

Perhaps this was just evidence that his body was adapting to the secret room. Perhaps it was necessary to rid oneself of everything that was superfluous in order to immerse completely in this airless, soundproof, narrow space shrouded in the fear of discovery and arrest. In recompense for a mind that was able to retain everything, every memory, perhaps it was necessary that the body gradually fade away.