Quotes About Fear

darkness, salt on her lips, big boats lingering on the horizon, crates of liquor luring them out, rolls of bills in her hands, lawmen on the take, and funerals. Desire and kisses. New York City on the arm of a man. A nice dress. Racing over the ocean. Whiskey bottles. Fear and exultation. How had it come to this? And where

Here the concept-work is around the sentiments and sensibilities that notions of security produce; on the subjects they endeavor to create; on the manipulations of space they condone; and on the objects of fear they nourish, reproduce, and on which they depend.

She catches sight of herself in the mirror. Go in fear of hyperbole)

It was the kind of terrified look that reminds you that no matter how rational or grown up a person might seem, some part of him is absolutely sure - knows - that an evil other-world exists just outside of our regular, everyday world. And that although we don't expect that world to collide with our calm, predictable one...well, really, at any moment that is exactly what might happen.

when you take fright and add to it ignorance, you get hatred. That's a very unattractive equation.

If I had to offer up a one sentence definition of addiction, I'd call it a form of mourning for the irrecoverable glories of the first time...addiction can show us what is deeply suspect about nostalgia. That drive to return to the past isn't an innocent one. It's about stopping your passage to the future, it's a symptom of fear of death, and the love of predictable experience. And the love of predictable experience, not the drug itself, is the major damage done to users.

The fear of the drugs running out is manageable-the fear of time running down isn't.

The fear of the drugs running out is managable-the fear of time running down isn't.

cabin, eyes wide, face gone white.

It feels unkind that they are shoving their emotions at him when his own sadness and fear are so vast that he has to hide from them.

Fatherhood, is for him, one jolt of terror after another.

I'd never seen that kind of love in person. My parents loved each other, but badly, and they were miserable. So were all the other couples in my neighborhood. Have you ever actually seen that kind of love?" William shook his head. He had married out of fear, because he didn't think he was capable of steering himself into adulthood. He'd needed Julia to be his parent more than his

People fly despite knowing that a certain percentage of airplanes crash every year.

I'm a writer," Jane says. "I have a habit, I guess, where I see all the possibilities in a situation. No matter what, there's always at least one that's terrifying.

together. He'd always assumed openness was synonymous with danger

Since the diagnosis, Sylvie had returned to Leaves of Grass. She wanted to absorb Whitman's optimistic take on death; she wanted to share the poet's open mind about what came next. Whenever Sylvie felt a quiver of fear, she repeated to herself the line: And to die is different from what any one supposed, and luckier.

I always thought that I wanted that dream because I was romantic and destined to live a big life, but that wasn't true. I created that dream because real life scared me, and that dream seemed so far-fetched I didn't think it would ever happen. I'd never seen that kind of love in person. My parents loved each other, but badly, and they were miserable.

And then she thought about the other streets. It wasn't just this street that she was afraid of or that was bad. It was any street where people were packed together like sardines in a can.

Listen, Junto,' he said. 'They can wave flags. They can tell me the Germans cut off baby's behinds and rape women and turn black men into slaves. They can tell me any damn thing. None of it means nothing.' 'Why?' 'Because, no matter how scared they are of Germans, they're still more scared of me. I'm black, see? And they hate Germans, but they hate me worse. If that wasn't so they wouldn't have a separate army for black men.

Her mind, long harassed by distress, now yielded to imaginary terrors.

No existence is more contemptible than that, which is embittered by fear.

My dear sir,' said Emily, timidly, 'what mean those tears?'—they speak, I fear, another language—they plead for me.

Nobody likes to go near that chateau after dark.

And yet I fear you; for you are fatal then, When your eyes roll so. Alas! why gnaw you so your nether lip? Some bloody passion shakes your very frame: These are portents; but yet I hope, I hope, They do not point on me." Shakspeare.