Best 155 quotes in «dread quotes» category

There was only greed for living and dread, and out of dread, out of stupid childish dread of the cold, of loneliness, of death, two people fled to one another, kissed, embraced, rubbed cheek to cheek, put leg to leg, cast new human beings into the world. That was how it was.

The shadows have both been my refuge and my repulse.

The things that kept them awake in the middle of the night, the things they did underneath the cover of darkness, both dreadful and beautiful, both attractive and repulsive, were revealed in stark clarity to their minds. A harsh reality that intensified sensations with each gust of wind. They shrank from it with frightened whimpers. The setting in each house would have fit perfectly into a post-apocalyptic tale of nuclear holocausts. Shell-shocked expressions gazed into the nothingness. Blankets over faces, silent prayers to the heavens. No curious eyes at the windows, or storm watchers dared to partake. The mere thought of looking out was too much to be borne.

The very highest thoughts, pierced with this dread, plummet to earth, snapping the branches of trees. The hunter comes upon it, not quite, it is not quite dead. A wing lifts, goes limp, and lifts again. Not quite, not quite dead.

What I dread most: having opinions.

What's more, I was free to do anything that did not hurt others that strengthened me and helped me in the one thing that we are all put on this earth to do: help one another - because it is the only thing that, in the long run, gives us pleasure, as receiving love and friendship and affection is the only thing that gives us joy and ameliorates the dread of our inevitable extinction.

What we all dread most is a maze with no centre.

What’s behind the door or lurking at the top of the stairs is never as frightening as the door or the staircase itself.

When he came home early, he was dreary. There, he'd sit by the fireplace, his worn hands gripping the newspaper a bit too tight, his eyes held to it, unseeing, towards the words, the meaningless grouping of letters on that newspaper. The fire would cackle, sizzle, full of life, so opposite to this man, whose face was crossed with the burdens of the world, and lips pressed thing under that bushy mustache. His grief sat on him like a cloud, sending him into a dimension that left his eyes two empty coals, his chest an impossible storm. He spoke to no one, and hardly did anyone speak to him, because words were never something he was good at. Then, when the sky darkened, he's stand, and trudge to his room, where his bed waited, cold and hungry, just as he'd always known it to be.

With school turning out more runners, jumpers, racers, tinkerers, grabbers, snatchers, fliers, and swimmers instead of examiners, critics, knowers, and imaginative creators, the word 'intellectual,' of course, became the swear word it deserved to be. You always dread the unfamiliar. Surely you remember the boy in your own school class who was exceptionally ‘bright,’ did most of the reciting and answering while the others sat like so many leaden idols, hating him. And wasn’t it this bright boy you selected and tortured after hours? Of course it was. We must all be alike. Not everyone born free and equal, as the Constitution says, but everyone made equal. Each man the image of every other; then all are happy, for there are no mountains to make them cower, to judge themselves again. So! A book is a loaded gun in the house next door. Burn it. Take the shot from the weapon. Breach man's mind. Who knows who might be the target of the well-read man? Me?

Why was it that when you were looking forward to a specific day, it took forever to arrive, but when you were dreading a day, it was there immediately?

Yes I know sorrow. Know it far too well. My life is a tunnel choked by the sweepings of dread.

You can't live in dread of something for long without beginning to crave it.

When she lay curled against him, her skin dewed from passion, there was still that small, cold place inside of her where the heat hadn't quite reached.

While I was able to rise and function almost normally during the earlier part of the day, I began to sense the onset of the symptoms at midafternoon or a little later- -gloom crowding in on me, a sense of dread and alienation and, above all, stifling anxiety.

A burnt child dreads the fire.

Anxiety is not fear, being afraid of this or that definite object, but the uncanny feeling of being afraid of nothing at all. It is precisely Nothingness that makes itself present and felt as the object of our dread.

Anything is a temptation to those who dread it.

Athenodorus says hydrophobia, or water-dread, was first discovered in the time of Asclepiades.

A religious ought to dread more being afraid of poverty than experiencing it.

Dread more the blunderer's friendship than the calumniator's enmity.

Covetousness like jealousy, when it has taken root, never leaves a person, but with their life. Cowardice is the dread of what will happen.

Cowardice, the dread of what will happen.

Fear is secured by a dread of punishment.

Fraud and falsehood only dread examination. Truth invites it.

He is much to be dreaded who stands in dread of poverty.

And death? I don't fear death. I dread the absence of it.

Dreams surround our desires with ugliness and dread.

God is down in front. He is in the tomorrows. It is tomorrow that fills men with dread. God is there already. All the tomorrows of our life have to pass Him before they can get to us.

He who dreads hostility too much is unfit to rule.

He that has his trust set upon God does not need to dread anything except the weakening or the paralyzing of that trust.

He only can create the greatest imaginable beauty who has endured all imaginable pangs, for only when we have seen and foreseen what we dread shall we be rewarded by that dazzling unforeseen wing-footed wanderer.

I dread karaoke. I hate karaoke. I can't sing - that is why.

I dread our own mistakes more than the enemy's intentions.

If you are wise, you will dread a prosperity which only loads you with more.

If! If! If! There were so many ifs in life, never any sense of security, always the dread of losing everything.

I have a dread of sounding pretentious and try not to talk too much about what I do.

If anyone could look into my head See or feel the dread that has captured Me or see within this sad, unhappy brain They would only turn away Turn away.

I kind of dread any kind of critical response, just because it's always painful in some way. Even if it's 80 percent good, it's the 20 percent that's bad that you remember - and that's a higher number than I usually get, 80 percent would be amazing.

I know little of women. But I've heard dread tales.

I look forward without dogmatic optimism but without dread.

Is not dread of thirst when your well is full, the thirst that is unquenchable?

Innocence has nothing to dread.

In addition to the dread of Indians, Texas held out no inducements for Mexican emigrants.

I Sing what was lost and dread what was won, / I walk in a battle fought over again.

I swear by the mighty power of Amon-Ra, whose anger can shatter the world, and by the dread power of Set, that I will never betray my trust as High Priest of Karnak.

Life inspires more dread than death - it is life which is the great unknown.

It is the dread of something happening, something unknown and dreadful, that makes us do anything to keep the flicker of talk from dying out.

Le silence e  ternel de ces espaces infinis m'effraie. The eternal silence of these infinite spaces fills me with dread.

Like one, that on a lonesome road Doth walk in fear and dread, And having once turned round walks on, And turns no more his head; Because he knows, a frightful fiend Doth close behind him tread.