Quotes About Fear

fear is not truly the same as respect. I'm learning that, at last.

Bet I can blow a hole in your chest before you can crush my leg. You wouldn't dare. Why not? I asked. A touch of fear flowed through his eyes. I am the human servant of a council member. Not impressed, I said. Try door number two.

Scared would be better than stupid.

Nikolaos had killed Phillip and bitten me to prove how powerful she was. I bet she thought I'd be scared absolutely shitless of her. She was right on that. But I spend most of my waking hours confronting and destroying things that I fear. A thousand-year-old master vampire was a tall order, but a girl's got to have a goal.

Most people spend their lives avoiding things they fear. You run after them. That's crazy." He had a point. I closed the door and left him standing in the hot dark. I raised the dead and laid the undead to rest. It was what I did. Who I was. If I ever started questioning my motives, I would stop killing vampires. Simple as that. I wasn't questioning my motives tonight, so I was still a vampire slayer, still the name they had given me. I was The Executioner.

I shut the door behind me and locked it, though truthfully with Edward inside I might have been safer locking myself out rather than in. He was not an imposing man, not frightening, if you didn't know him. He was five-eight, slender, blond, blue-eyed, charming. But if I was The Executioner, he was Death itself. He was the person I had seen use a flamethrower. I

Credo di sì.» Patrick sospirò. «Cioè, credo che sarebbe stato meno orribile se fosse stato un altro. Tu sei così piccola e carina. Non dovresti mozzare le dita alla gente.» «Oh, ti prego!»

What the petit bâtard would order us to do to you if he awoke now is best left unsaid.

He nodded, as if that were the answer he wanted. "She's afraid of you; did you know that?" I smiled, and it wasn't a very nice smile. I could feel the edges curl up with a dark sort of satisfaction. "I hope the little bitch is sweating it out, big time.

When he first told me, I'd been convinced I'd be the one that would die; now I wasn't so sure, maybe I would win. Maybe I could call Donna and the kids and tell them . . . Tell them what? That their family was destroyed because Edward and I had had the ultimate guy moment and I was the better man?

I've got to go." He hung up suddenly as if afraid of being caught. His mom had probably come into the room. The Zeemans had four sons and a daughter. The sons were all six feet or above. The daughter was five nine. They were all over twenty-one. And they were all scared of their mother. Not literally scared, but Charlotte Zeeman wore the pants in the family. One family dinner and I knew that. I

Edward ayr?m yapmayan bir katildi. Hiç ayr?m yapmazd?. Cinsiyet, din, ?rk ya da tür fark? gözetmezdi. EÄŸer tehlikeli bir ÅŸey varsa, Edward onu avlar ve öldürürdü. Bunun için ya??yordu, o, avc?lar?n avc?s?yd?.

If something scares you, no matter how small, you gotta face it because if you start failing on the small stuff eventually you'll fail on the big stuff.

We onlies, we fear the nothing. We fear the winds that howl around the last one standing. We fear the black silence of carrying those ever-fading histories alone.

For most people, the ringing of a phone was a welcome sign. Someone was trying to reach them, to say hello, ask about their well-being, or make plans. For me, it triggered fear, intense anxiety, and heart-stopping panic.

My eyes swiveled to the sorrowful girl who was currently cowering in the foyer, looking as fearful as a cornered hamster as she trembled and tried not to cry.

My dear Mrs. Grimstone, sometimes cowardice is merely another word for common sense.

Imagination was all very well in the daylight, but it was an uncomfortable thing late at night.

Bert's dog smelled nature or history and began to tremble.

Loss. A strange word. It seemed to mean an absence, something missing; but loss was also a presence all its own, a fanged and snarling monster ready at any moment to break its chain and snatch someone away.

Okay, now you're starting to scare me, Wes says. No, scary is the way people can alter their voices on cue. Like your imitation of that creepy guy who lives at your house. You mean my dad? he laughs.

I believe that you've created a metaphorical universe in which you can express your darkest fears. In one aspect, yes, I believe in ghosts, but we create them. We haunt ourselves, and sometimes we do such a good job, we lose track of reality.

Censorship is the child of fear and the father of ignorance.

This girl shivers and crawls under the covers with all her clothes on and falls into an overdue library book, a faerie story with rats and marrow and burning curses. The sentences build a fence around her, a Times Roman 10-point barricade, to keep the thorny voices in her head from getting too close.