Quotes About Fear

It was the feet they'd do, for a first offense. They used steel cables, frayed at the ends. After

If you knew what was going to happen, if you knew everything that was going to happen next—if you knew in advance the consequences of your own actions—you'd be doomed. You'd be ruined as God. You'd be a stone. You'd never eat or drink or laugh or get out of bed in the morning. You'd never love anyone, ever again. You'd never dare to." ? Margaret Atwood, The Blind Assassin

A place with no handholds,no landmarks,no past at all:That would have been too much like dying

Nothing wrecks your nails like a lethal pandemic plague

I know why there is no glass, in front of the watercolour picture of blue irises, and why the window only opens partly and why the glass in it is shatterproof. It isn't running away they're afraid of. We wouldn't get far. It's those other escapes, the ones you can open in yourself, given a cutting edge.

The aliens arrive. We like the part where we get saved. We like the part where we get destroyed. Why do those feel so similar? Either way, it's an end.

There were places you didn't want to walk, precautions you took that had to do with locks on windows and doors, drawing the curtains, leaving on lights. These things you did were like prayers; you did them and you hoped they would save you. And for the most part they did. Or something did; you could tell by the fact that you were still alive. But all of that was pertinent only in the night, and had nothing to do with the man you loved, at least in daylight.

Non temono che ce ne andiamo di nascosto. Non arriveremmo lontano. Temono altre fughe, quelle che puoi aprirti dentro, se hai un oggetto con un bordo tagliente.

The bathrobe was magenta, a colour that still makes him anxious whenever he sees it.

But I like my stories to be true to life, which means there have to be wolves in them. Wolves in one form or another.

Galleries are frightening places, places of evaluation, of judgement.

When push comes to shove, only one's own nightmares are of any interest or significance

the thing was airborne. Desire and fear were universal, between them they'd been the gravediggers.

I wish to show you the darkness you are so afraid of. Trust me. This darkness is a place you can enter and be as safe in as you are anywhere; you can put one foot in front of the other and believe the sides of your eyes. Memorize it. You will know it again in your own time. When the appearances of things have left you, you will still have this darkness. Something of your own you can carry with you.

There were places you didn't want to walk, precautions you took that had to do with locks on windows and doors, drawing the curtains, leaving on lights. These things you did were like prayers; you did them and you hoped they would save you.

There is a silence. But sometimes it's as dangerous not to speak. Yes, we are very happy, I murmur. I have to say something. What else can I say?

Although I'm afraid of this idea and ashamed of it, and although in the daytime I find it melodramatic and ludicrous and refuse to believe in it, I also cherish it. It's like the secret bottle stashed away by alcoholics: I may have no desire to use it, right now, but I feel more secure knowing it's there. It's a fallback, it's a vice, it's an exit. It's a weapon.

But it wasn't more honestly that would have saved me, I thought; it was more dishonesty. In my experience, honesty and expressing your feelings could lead to only one thing. Disaster.

I had no faith in the wise choices of the Aunts: I feared that I would end up married to a goat on fire.

the ladies who were going in, frightened by the first signs of droop and pucker, then going out again, buffed and tightened and resurfaced, irradiated and resurfaced. But still frightened, because when might the whole problem - the whole thing - start happening to them again? The whole signs-of-mortality thing. The whole thing thing. Nobody likes it, thought Toby - being a body, a thing.

I'm ashamed of my own reluctance, my lack of desire; but the truth is that I would be terrified to get into bed with a woman. Women collect grievances, hold grudges and change shape. They pass hard, legitimate judgements, unlike the purblind guesses of men, fogged with romanticism and ignorance and bias and wish. I can understand why men are afraid of them, as they are frequently accused of being.

Si jeunesse savait, si vieillesse pouvait - Estienne; C'est de quoi j'ai le plus de peur que la peur - Montaigne; (...) L'histoire, cette vieille dame exaltée et menteuse - de Maupassant.

Por que achei que apesar de tudo as coisas correriam normalmente? Acho que porque já estávamos ouvindo notícias como aquelas há muito tempo. Você não acredita que o céu está caindo até que um pedaço dele caia em cima de você.

If it's only a story, it becomes less frightening. The