Quotes About Fear

Keep driving," said a soft voice in my ear. "She will not bite if you keep driving." Fuck that. Fuck that idea like the fucking Captain of the Thai Fuck Team fucking at the fucking Tour de Fuck.

There is no word in the English language for the feeling someone gets when they suddenly realize they're standing next to an unholy monster impersonating a human. Monstralization, maybe?

They didn't have witch hunts because they believed in witches. They believed in witches so they could have witch hunts.

He gave me a look that would have made cancer apologize, then ran like hell.

You don't realize how terrifying the world can be for someone like that, someone who would rather stay in a familiar hole than an unfamiliar mansion.

the whole world [is]a big, noisy puppet show meant to distract us from the fact that at the end, you'll die, and you'll probably be alone.

Tried to escape, to block out the fact that I was being eaten alive by arachnids. For some reason the only thing I could replace it with was the image of being eaten by tiny clowns.

Zoey didn't want to be paranoid, but there was something about the man in the loincloth made of charred doll heads that made her nervous.

If Zoey Ashe had known she was being stalked by a man who intended to kill her and then slowly eat her bones, she would have worried more about that and less about getting her cat off the roof.

She burst into snakes.

I want no part of this nonsense. This whole city is a butt that farts horror.

I had a familiar, nervous sensation, one that goes all the way back to elementary school. It's the simultaneous realization that I may have talked my way into another fistfight, and that I had not spent any time learning to fight since the last one.

So you see, fear is just another manifestation of insecurity. What humans want most of all, is to be right. Even if we're being right about our own doom. If we believe there are monsters around the next corner ready to tear us apart, we would literally prefer to be right about the monsters, than to be shown to be wrong in the eyes of others and made to look foolish.

Kill me and burn my body. Then burn this place down on top of me. Find the other doors if there are more, and burn them down, too. In fact, just burn the whole town. Just to be safe.

Our true fear of the zombie was never that its bite would turn us into one of them. Our fear is that we are already zombies.

I don't know how they catch the birds. I know the Goliath Fucking Bird-Eating Spider can't fly because if it could, it would have a different name entirely. We would call it "sir" because it would be the dominant species on the planet. None of us would leave the house unless a Goliath Fucking Flying Bird-Eating Spider said it was okay.

Guys like him, the ones who grip the Bible so tight they leave fingernail grooves, they're the ones who are the most scared of their dark side.

The thing with Jen ended with a pregnancy scare. She had seen my world and didn't want to bring a baby into it. This led to some violent arguments during which I pointed out, loudly and in sprays of spittle, that if she got an abortion the fucking unborn fucking fetus would likely fucking haunt us—I mean literally haunt our home—until the day we died and possibly beyond. It turned out that was the wrong thing to say.

Another bite victim lay nearby, a young man writhing as if in a seizure. Eventually his legs kicked themselves free from the rest of his body. The limbs thumped along the floor on their own like two giant polyester snakes with shoes for heads. Right behind them was a loose head stuck to a single arm, furiously biting and clawing the carpet. I felt like we might not be in control of this situation any longer.

I stared at the thing, blinking, thinking it would reveal itself to be, I don't know, a hot-water heater or something. Then I realized the monster-shaped shadow was, surprisingly, a monster.

I flung the gun at another one of the monsters, missed, hit an elderly man in a wheelchair instead, toppling him over.

Are the most dangerous creatures the ones that use doors or the ones that don't?

CHAPTER 11 By the way . . . Looking back, if I had gone in and seen what was in the toolshed, I would have put a bullet in my own skull one minute later.

I squinted drunkenly into the rearview mirror and tried in vain to find the headlights of the black truck that was chasing us, but I actually wasn't sure if its drivers needed headlights to see or if they even had eyes. I also wasn't sure it was a truck, or if it was black, or if we were being pursued at all. It was definitely raining, though.