Quotes About Fear

There are really only two kinds of monsters in the world, which you already know if you've been watching horror movies: Breeders and Non-breeders.

We rode in silence, I think all of us wondering what was behind the flowery wallpaper our perceptions had always pasted on the unknown. All the things the mind won't allow us to see, to protect our sanity, or our soul, or maybe just to keep the shit out of our pants.

I'm scared David" "That's good, because there's lots to be afraid of

That is why we fear the zombie. The zombie looks like a man, walks like a man, eats and otherwise functions fully, yet is devoid of the spark. It represents the nagging doubt that lays deep in the heart of even the most zealous believer: behind all of your pretty songs and stained glass, this is what you really are. Shambling meat. 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.

was desperate to see what would show up but this was her bedroom and I suppose she had a reasonable fear of two creepy males clicking through shots of her dressing and doing the things girls do alone in their bedrooms. Lighting farts or whatever.

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. Always going too far the other way, fighting for the Lord, often just because it gives them an excuse to fight.

We're like one German soldier alone on the beaches of Normandy on D-Day, holding a sharp stick.

A ghost sighting is usually nothing more than your brain trying to put a familiar face on something that does not have a face at all.

Franky the Cop let me lead the way outside to the shed, staying a few steps back so that he could have time to shoot me in case I decided to wheel on him with fists of fury.

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. Always going too far the other way, fighting for the Lord, often just because it gives them an excuse to fight.

Please don't not panic!" The

My sphincter is puckered just hearing about it. I doubt the best laxative in the world would do jack right now.

Do you hear the ticking, Mallory, my brave, foolish, young pilot? Time—it ticks, it runs, it twists, it dilates, shrinks, and kills, and one day for each of us, no matter what we do, it stops. Stops, do you hear me?

In my most recent novel, The Eros Project, I have called this age–old habit of people of making war and preying upon each other simply the War. This use is close to what Hobbes identified as the war of all against all, which he thought to be the natural state of man.

Is it fucked?" I asked. She nodded. "Cancer." She whispered it so lightly I almost didn't hear. Then the word flew over and smacked me.

I am afraid of Mr. Powell. I am more afraid of him than I have ever been of shadows or the thunder or when you look through the little bubble in the glass of the window in the upstairs hall and all of the out-of-doors stretches and twists its neck.

Su nombre es Harry Powell. Pero los nombres de sus dedos son R, O, M y A, y O, I, D y O y la historia que cuenta sobre que una mano es Odio y la otra Amor es una mentira, porque las dos son Odio, y verlas moverse me asusta todavía más que las sombras o que el viento.

El Señor guarde a los niños! Pues todos ellos tienen su Predicador que los persigue por el sombrío río del miedo y la imposibilidad de expresar lo que sienten y las puertas cerradas. Todos son mudos y están solos, porque no hay palabras para expresar el miedo de un niño, ni oídos que le presten atención, y, si las hubiera, nadie las entendería aunque las oyera. ¡El Señor guarde a los niños! Los niños lo soportan todo y superan cualquier obstáculo.

Davey Jones: Do you fear... death? Do you fear that dark abyss? All your deeds laid bare, all your sins punished?

get a move on, pal, life goes on happening while you're hiding....

Now, he numbly stands stock-still, in abject fear that this whole catastrophe may well be his doing.

I felt like I would disappear if I were not hemmed in by the familiar and unchanging.

I will not die an unlived life. I will not live in fear of falling or catching fire. I choose to inhabit my days, to allow my living to open me, to make me less afraid, more accessible; to loosen my heart until it becomes a wing, a torch, a promise. I choose to risk my significance, to live so that which came to me as seed goes to the next as blossom, and that which came to me as blossom, goes on as fruit.

I will not die an unlived life.