Fear Quotes - Page 63

The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed:

I thank God every day for this life, and I want there to be more, though that’s not known. What is known is that I’m alive today, this minute. And that’s pretty much what we all have – this day, this moment.

Cowards make the best torturers. Cowards understand fear and they can use it.

Fear is secured by a dread of punishment.

fear is something i don't you experience unless you have a choice. If you have a choice, you're liable to be afraid. But without a choice, what is there to be afraid of? You just go along and do what has to be done.".,

The exhilaration of battle was agreeable to him, but the sight of the dead, with their clay faces, blank eyes, and stiff bodies, which, when not unnaturally shrunken, were unnaturally swollen, had always intolerably affected him. He felt toward them a kind of reasonless antipathy which was something more than the physical and spiritual repugnance common to us all. Doubtless this feeling was due to his unusually acute sensibilities - his keen sense of the beautiful, which these hideous things outraged. Whatever may have been the cause, he could not look upon a dead body without a loathing which had in it an element of reselltment. What others have respected as the dignity of death had to him no existence - was altogether unthinkable. Death was a thing to be hated. It was not picturesque, it had no tender and solemn side - a dismal thing, hideous in all its manifestations and suggestions. Lieutenant Byring was a braver man than anybody knew, for nobody knew his horror of that which he was ever ready to encounter. ("A Tough Tussle")

Eddie discovered one of his childhood's great truths. Grownups are the real monsters, he thought.

The first and great commandment is don't let them scare you.

He is the kind of person I should expect to rescue one from a mad dog at any risk but then insist on a stoical indifference to the fright afterward." Jefferson Davis's future wife describing him at first meeting.

A lie near to truth is always difficult to catch

The irony is, nothing is more frightening than being frightened.

I am quite sure I am more afraid of people who are themselves terrified of the devil than I am of the devil himself.

Whenever you encounter any fearful situation, there exists a great possibility for you to triumph only if you be willing enough to conquer the fear.

Successful people go through fear to get to where they are.

Within a system which denies the existence of basic human rights, fear tends to be the order of the day. Fear of imprisonment, fear of torture, fear of death, fear of losing friends, family, property or means of livelihood, fear of poverty, fear of isolation, fear of failure. A most insidious form of fear is that which masquerades as common sense or even wisdom, condemning as foolish, reckless, insignificant or futile the small, daily acts of courage which help to preserve man's self-respect and inherent human dignity. It is not easy for a people conditioned by fear under the iron rule of the principle that might is right to free themselves from the enervating miasma of fear. Yet even under the most crushing state machinery courage rises up again and again, for fear is not the natural state of civilized man.

It took vulnerability to forge strength, the way true courage required fear.

Nobody is too holy for the devil's attack, even your tithes and offerings won't stop him either but God rebukes the devourer through your giving.

Though my friends envied me because I always seemed so cheerful and confident, I was secretly terrified of practically everything.

Sometimes when you're young, you have moments of such happiness, you think you're living on someplace magical, like Atlantis must have been. Then we grow up and our hearts break into two.

The right wing has a large proportion of authoritarian personalities. They tend to believe man is, by nature, basically evil. Surrounded as all of us are by the bigness of impersonal forces which seem beyond our power to control, they look for the 'enemy', so that they can hate him. At different times in history 'the enemy' has been the witch, the demon, the Communist (remember Joe McCarthy?), and now sex education, sensitivity training, 'non-religious humanism', and other current d

He leans in, resting his weathered hand on the bed. "Treat all the bad things like dreams, Kenzie. That way, no matter how scary or dark they get, you just have to survive until you wake up.

Life is like a boxing match, it seems, society has not been able to abolish human sadness, no political system can deliver us from the pain of living, from our fear of crime

They don’t have classes on bravery in middle school. If they did I’d have signed up. It would have been helpful to learn how to stare down what I feared most and not blink.

I know very little about darkness, Mr Bowden, except that we cannot stop its coming.

But that's one way we can identify the devil's voice: It always plays to our fears. It is the voice that tells us we must do something to prove who we are, to prove that we're worthy, to prove that we are who God has already declared us to be. When we know we are loved by God, we don't have to prove anything to anyone. There is nothing we can do to make ourselves more beloved than we are.

We all choke and the man who says he doesn't choke is lying like hell.

When you live with a potentially life-threatening condition you get used to the thought of dying. You accept it, you push on. The thing that scared me was the picture of dying slowly and painfully, the loss of independence and identity to illness.

You will also be called upon to provide well-timed distractions. Get the whole country arguing about sex education or gays in the military, and Americans will stop paying attention to all the things they should fear.

No crime is a means to an end. No crime can be rationalized.

Life's too short to wake up in the morning with regrets, So ... Love the people who treat you right and pray for the ones who don't. Life is 10% what you make it 90% how you take it.

Fear makes us feel our humanity.

I pulled the sheet off their faces. Their faces were black with coal dust and didn't look like anything was wrong with them except they were dirty. The both of them had smiles on their faces. I thought maybe one of them had told a joke just before they died and, pain and all, they both laughed and ended up with a smile. Probably not true but but it made me feel good to think about it like that, and when the Sister came in I asked her if I could clean their faces and she said, "no, certainly not!" but I said, "ah, c'mon, it's me brother n' father, I want to," and she looked at me and looked at me, and at last she said, "of course, of course, I'll get some soap and water."When the nun came back she helped me. Not doing it, but more like showing me how, and taking to me, saying things like "this is a very handsome man" and "you must have been proud of your brother" when I told her how Charlie Dave would fight for me, and "you're lucky you have another brother"; of course I was, but he was younger and might change, but she talked to me and made it all seem normal, the two of us standing over a dead face and cleaning the grit away. The only other thing I remember a nun ever saying to me was, "Mairead, you get to your seat, this minute!

I am not a man of fear, but I am a man that knows how to fear. Without fear, we become lazy. Without fear, we become reckless. Fear doesn't limit a man, it keeps the man sharp.

All forms of fear produce fatigue.

Unable to attribute misfortune to chance, unable to accept their ultimate insignificance within the greater scheme, the people looked for monsters in their midst.

We fear men so much, because we fear God so little.

Nightmares are seldom a foreshadowing of real events, but always a showing of real fears.

We are already abundant, we have everything we need within us, to live a purposeful and fulfilling life.

Love is the reflection of a broken heart in a shattered mirror...

I start to count. This is the important part. I have to count right. Not too fast, nor too slow. All the way to one hundred. It must be spoken aloud, without interruption. Whispering is acceptable; the count keeps my wolf to the Dark Wood. It keeps me on safety’s slender path.

Steel screams when it's forged, it gasps when it's quenched. It creaks when it goes under load. I think even steel is scared, son.

I think that most people would rather face the light of a real enemy than the darkness of their imagined fears.

The paralyzing fear of being lost is fed solely by the irrational fear that we will never be found.

Sometimes the heart breaks... Sometimes you break... Sometimes you break your heart by breaking yourself for someone who wouldn't do the same...

After reading Burgum, [Patricia Highsmith] wrote in her cahier that, like Kafka, she felt she was a pessimist, unable to formulate a system in which an individual could believe in God, government or self. Again like Kafka, she looked into the great abyss which separated the spiritual and the material and saw the terrifying emptiness, the hollowness, at the heart of every man, a sense of alienation she felt compelled to explore in her fiction. As her next hero, she would take an architect, 'a young man whose authority is art and therefore himself,' who when he murders, 'feels no guilt or even fear when he thinks of legal retribution'. The more she read of Kafka the more she felt afraid as she came to realise, 'I am so similar to him.

Tonight his father had caught up, carrying all the horrors of hell with him. His mother could no longer protect him—hide him—and now his father‟s wrath would fall on him. He ran across the fields and through the forest, his bare feet carrying him as fast as they could go, aching and bleeding into the night. He could feel his father‟s eyes on him and his stinking breath filling Raven‟s nostrils as he rushed toward the only place he had ever found safe. He sobbed, choking on his grief and his frustration—the horrible guilt of carrying all the anger from his father into their house making him sick and afraid. He ran with lungs and muscles burning from strain, throwing himself through the doors of the castle when he reached them and only then chancing to look back the way he‟d come.

Everybody’s scared, but if you don’t let your fears stop you, that’s bravery.

Boys", she says, "just aren't very good at being afraid.

I spend a tremendous amount of time carefully choosing the roles I wish to play so that I can run from the role I was born to play. And if I keep on doing that, I will eventually set foot in my grave never having set foot on the stage.

Loyal companions are an unequaled grace, stanching fear before it bleeds you numb, a reliable antidote for creeping despair.

The land, that thou see now to have root, shall thou see wasted suddenly.

Even fear afraid of faith.

So many bad things have happened to them that they can't trust the good things. They have to shove them away before someone can get it back.

There is this fine line between presenting to You all of my weakness and thinking that it can't be done. In Your strength, I find my own.

Fear is like fire. If controlled it will help you if uncontrolled it will rise up and destroy you. Men's actions depend to a great extent upon fear. We do things either because we enjoy doing them or because we are afraid not to do them.

We are creatures of habit more than we are creatures of change.

Stars do not hide from darkness. Roses do not hide from thorns. Diamonds do not hide from pressure.

Like as thou canst do none of these things that I have spoken of, even so canst thou not find out my judgment, or in the end the love that I have promised unto my people.

There was this constant urge in me to tear my insides apart,I didn't know why. By the time I made my mind that it was impossible for meto do, there alighted the fear, haunting me with the words that rangconstantly in my head, "You're not brave enough".I didn't feel devastated, I felt the urge to be devastated.

I'd felt the pop of the needle sliding into my veins, like a fang into flesh. I'd been enveloped in the golden haze where nothing is wrong even when everything is falling apart. A dance with a hypodermic fiend, my hands in the claws of a vulture.