Best 203 quotes in «angst quotes» category

God's will can go fuck itself. And so can you.

Go with yourself.

Hast du manchmal Angst?", fragt er. "Ich meine nicht Angst vor einer Prüfung. Oder dem Erzieher. Sondern so richtig Angst. So Angst vor dem Leben. Weißt du?" Troy schluckt. Er beugt sich nach vorn. "Leben ist Angst haben", sage ich. Mir wird unangenehm. Eigentlich habe ich noch nie darüber nachgedacht. Aber ich glaube, es stimmt.

Have we become so defensive that we cannot even tolerate a kind act?

Haven't you felt it? The loss of autonomy. The sense of being virtualized. The devices you use, the ones you carry everywhere, room to room, minute to minute, inescapably. Do you ever feel unfleshed? All the coded impulses you depend on to guide you. All the sensors in the room that are watching you, listening to you, tracking your habits, measuring your capabilities. All the linked data designed to incorporate you into the megadata. Is there something that makes you uneasy? Do you think about the technovirus, all systems down, global implosion? Or is it more personal? Do you feel steeped in some horrific digital panic that's everywhere and nowhere?

Her entire life, she’d been told sin was wrong, a black and white interpretation of what is evil and what is holy in the world—colored like a priest’s robe and collar—but she never believed it to be true. Sin was colorful: scarlet like rose blood, azure like skin deprived oxygen, violet as bruises, jade as rot; a colorful contradiction to the darkness and blinding light all are taught sin and holiness to be.

Heartache doesn't teach you to be resilient. It teaches you to protect your fragility. It teaches you to fear love. And it draws a bright red circle around all the ways you've failed as a person and laughs while you cry.

Het is in het beklemtonen van dat iets niet erg is, dat het ons niet bang maakt, dat we er niet triest van zijn geworden, dat we vaak net de heftigheid van de ware emotie verraden, ook al geloven we het schimmige zelfbedrog terwijl we het aan het formuleren zijn.

He was acting like our kiss had broken him, and his reaction was breaking me.

I am hell with a knife and there is nothing I can really do about it but try and keep my mouth shut and try not to let it show.

I am pieces of a person, forever preserved when they were chipped off. There’s nothing but fragments inside a skin.

I could be the ceaseless mist that fogs your colourless eyes when you're lost in your universes.

I couldn't tell anyone how I felt because I knew they wouldn't understand. Oh, poor little Christina, falling for the bad man who treats her like dirt because she didn't know any better. And isn't it a pity that they don't still teach sex-ed in schools? Or, oh, Christina, that filthy slut, if she puts out for a man like that, I imagine she puts out for anyone. You stay away from her. It wasn't like that at all. Maybe it would have been easier if it was, just like ticking a box. Are you the Madonna, or the whore? The victim, or the vixen? The Sabine, or the skank? But nothing in life is ever that simple.

I'd do anything to do it all over again, even if it ended this way still. Had I a choice, you know I would not go.

He rolled the other way and watched the digital display of his alarm ticking seconds off he'd never get back. This is the life we're given. One life. One opportunity to be happy, to make others happy, and I'm letting it slip through my fingers because I'm afraid.

Het besef van eeuwigheid woog zwaarder dan mijn angst en God hielp mij mijn angsten te overwinnen.

His dark gaze searched her face. “Aren’t you curious, inspector? A kiss—and only a kiss.” Only a kiss . . . from someone who wanted her. Longing slipped through her, tugging at hopes best kept buried. Yes, Mina wanted to know. But she couldn’t afford it. “No,” she said. He smiled. “Liar.

I am happy with you." It was only a half-lie. In truth, being with him made me happier than anything. But it was a bittersweet happiness because from this moment on, it would be overshadowed with the wait and wonder of when and how our relationship would dissolve.

Ich hatte Angst in ein Gasthaus zu gehen wenn Bauern drinnensaßen. Ich dachte mir daß sie nichts Gutes über mich denken. Ich überwand diese Angst mit der Vorstellung etwas Besonderes zu sein. Das Besondere bestand in meinem Leid. Ich war erfüllt von dem Maß meiner Leiden. Ich habe Angst diese Leiden aufzugeben weil ich nicht weiß was dann von mir übrigbleibt.

Ich musste mich zusammennehmen! Ich wollte einfach keine Furcht mehr empfinden! Aber so fest ich mir's vornahm, immer regte sich ein zweites Ich, und dieses zweite Ich - hatte Furcht. Ich fragte mich, was es eigentlich zu fürchten gäbe. Mein tapferes Ich spottete über das feige Ich. Nie habe ich so wie an diesem Tage den Gegensatz der beiden Wesen verspürt, die in uns wohnen. Das eine will, das andere widerstrebt, und wechselnd haben sie die Oberhand.

If being queer meant loving Aaron, then he'd own the label, at least internally.

If he would see me again, I would die happy. In the meantime, I was merely dying.

Don't give in, Alex, don't let them win. You beat them once and you can do it again. Don't let this place break you. Keep your mind busy, keep yourself occupied, find things to do. If you're doing things, then you still exist, right?

I find some small, twisted comfort in thinking that perhaps we used each other. Him, for a glimpse into what it would be like to live a life entirely different from the one he'd been raised to desire, and me for the steady diet of angst and emotional damage that seemed to make me better, sharper, like a sword against a whetstone. I was his intellectual escape from a long parade of pretty, empty girls... and he was my drug of choice -- unhealthy, probably lethal, but ultimately so addictive it was hard to turn away. The problem, of course, with this theory of mutual exploitation, is that it is the deepest of lies. There was nothing equal or mutual about the way we used each other. I barely scratched his surface while he sliced me limb from limb. There's no comfort in that. None at all.

If you needed revenge, you’ve got it. Every minute that I’m with you knowing that you’re not mine is like hydrochloric acid in a razor cut.

I had money...But for some reason, I couldn't go anywhere. Apparently, finding a warm place to belong...Takes something other than money. Several years later, I realized that this "something" other than money...Was also required to enjoy food, to keep yourself neat and tidy, and to mutually respect people. But at the time, I dind't know that.

I just wonder… Isn’t it better to start as a monster and become a hero? Isn’t that what creates belief? The idea that someone can change?

I knew this for a fact. Little by little, the ache to see him, to hear him would disappear. Little by little I’d forget how his arms felt, how his fingers felt, how his lips felt..the sound of his voice, the intensity of his gaze, all of it. Trace by trace it would slip from my mind, recede into foggy memory. The painful haze that dulled my present would melt into the past. Maybe not all the way, maybe there would be a few scars. Maybe I'd be different, but I’d be me again. Little by little.

I know my dreams will be of you, and I'm not sure how I'll stay away from you in the morning.

I know I need to face the facts, and remain strong to extricate myself from this hideous situation, but not yet. I figure I’m owed at least one day to indulge my self-pity. One day to wallow in despair. To give into the soul-crunching heart-stomping pain ripping me to shreds on the inside.

I love you," Gavin whispered, slowly breaking the kiss. Still cupping her cheeks, he dipped his head and leaned his forehead against hers. "I want to break the rules with you. Kiss you passionately every day. Make you smile when you're about to cry. I want no regrets with us. I want us to laugh together until we can't breathe and it hurts. No man will ever love you the way I'm going to love you, Emily. You're it. My last. My forever/

I’d say I needed to find myself, if that didn’t sound like I was heading into the Himalayas, taking only a backpack stuffed with angst and clean underwear.

If you can find happiness inside of you, nothing will be able to create angst in your mind.

I just wanted..." Aaron stepped closer. "To kiss you good-bye," he finished for Greg.

I knew I was high maintenance and he was obviously going to be the same

I lowered my mouth to his ear and said, “I think you’re my everything.

I’m broken. Fucked up. I feel sick. I can’t breathe. It’s like someone’s snaked their fingers around my heart, capturing it in a crushing grip. It’s Emma. This is her doing. Well, it won’t fucking bleed for her. It won’t bleed for anyone. It’s black. I’m dead inside.

I'm sick of this. It's like being twelve again, dealing with all this damned drama. I like her. Does she like me? What if she doesn't like me?

I'm sorry. I didn't know what else to do," I breathed, trying hard to pretend I wasn't fazed by what just happened. "You weren't listening to me." He stared at me with intensity for several seconds. "That's an interesting way to get my attention.

I’m with you; it’s only me.

I never claimed to be the Chosen One. That was Qui-Gon. Even the Council doesn’t believe it anymore, so why should you?” "Because I think you believe it,” Obi-Wan said calmly. “I think you know in your heart that you’re meant for something extraordinary.” “And you, Master. What does your heart tell you you’re meant for?” “Infinite sadness,” Obi-Wan said, even while smiling.

I never said you didn't have a heart. But it would be nice if it beat every now and then.

In the moment where my mind, body and soul are assaulted I know that I'll never be the same ever again. Braxxon has seized me and something tells me he isn't letting me go." Winter

I'm scared," she said. "Of me?" His voice was full of sorrow. "Of everything.

I pushed until I felt his [Donovan's] body grow still, the tendons in his neck relaxing. I pushed until I felt the mouth beneath the pillow droop, one last dull groan fading into silence. And I kept pushing, because I couldn't bear to pull the pillow away to see what I'd done. "You're free," I said. I closed my eyes, saw Donovan as he had been. One last smile, then he faded.

Irgendwann ist der Spaß vorbei, und wenn man die Finsternis auf sich zukriechen sieht, hält man sich an allem fest, was hell und glücklich und gut war, als würde das Leben davon abhängen.

I see how it is,” I snapped. “You were all in favor of me breaking the tattoo and thinking on my own—but that’s only okay if it’s convenient for you, huh? Just like your ‘loving from afar’ only works if you don’t have an opportunity to get your hands all over me. And your lips. And . . . stuff.” Adrian rarely got mad, and I wouldn’t quite say he was now. But he was definitely exasperated. “Are you seriously in this much self-denial, Sydney? Like do you actually believe yourself when you say you don’t feel anything? Especially after what’s been happening between us?” “Nothing’s happening between us,” I said automatically. “Physical attraction isn’t the same as love. You of all people should know that.” “Ouch,” he said. His expression hadn’t changed, but I saw hurt in his eyes. I’d wounded him. “Is that what bothers you? My past? That maybe I’m an expert in an area you aren’t?” “One I’m sure you’d just love to educate me in. One more girl to add to your list of conquests.” He was speechless for a few moments and then held up one finger. “First, I don’t have a list.” Another finger, “Second, if I did have a list, I could find someone a hell of lot less frustrating to add to it.” For the third finger, he leaned toward me. “And finally, I know that you know you’re no conquest, so don’t act like you seriously think that. You and I have been through too much together. We’re too close, too connected. I wasn’t that crazy on spirit when I said you’re my flame in the dark. We chase away the shadows around each other. Our backgrounds don’t matter. What we have is bigger than that. I love you, and beneath all that logic, calculation, and superstition, I know you love me too. Running away and fleeing all your problems isn’t going to change that. You’re just going to end up scared and confused.” “I already feel that way,” I said quietly. Adrian moved back and leaned into his seat, looking tired. “Well, that’s the most accurate thing you’ve said so far.” I grabbed the basket and jerked open the car door. Without another word, I stormed off, refusing to look back in case he saw the tears that had inexplicably appeared in my eyes. Only, I wasn’t sure exactly which part of our conversation I was most upset about.

Isaac dared not move and she did not stir either, both staring up at the canopy above. If he reached over, if he –no, no. It was better to keep a small shield between them, to preserve the little progress they had made in their standoffish, untested relationship, two strangers forced together under impossible circumstances. The last thing he needed was to push her away, to frighten her, to be the brute she’d taken him for. It had been three weeks since they’d been in this very same position and so much had changed and yet so little. A ridiculous, naïve hope drifted into his head before he found sleep: perhaps one day, a long time from now, they would be friends. He would settle for that, if he could have nothing more. Even though he wanted everything.

It is possible that the artists are sane and the world they are painting is crazy.

I should move away from his touch. But he’s a constant storm in my life, clouding my head, ensuring I make bad decisions. He doesn’t do it on purpose, he knows we’re not good for each other, but there’s something about us that makes us fight back harder, thinking we can overcome it.