Best 436 quotes in «insecurity quotes» category

Don't let where you are in life to cause you to be so insecure about yourself. There is more to you than your flaws and negative conditions. You are a royal child of God.

Everyone should feel comfortable they are going to remain in their homes until their dying days. We should never be uneasy or unsure of where our home is in the United States of America.

Every sane adult is insecure about at least one thing on or about them.

Every strict progression of an uncertain event is cease of movement in time and a birth of new space.

Every woman is beautiful, but not every woman has someone to tell her that.

Except for our pompous means of comfort, human condition is not much different from animal condition - we are tormented each day with animal like anxieties, insecurities and fears, and each torment makes us believe that perhaps having more comfort will change our condition, but it never does, rather, it only shoves us deeper into the abyss of psychological darkness.

Explore, Dream & Discover are 3 secrets which the time traveler is unaware. They demystify as the journey advances!

Fame and insecurity don’t usually mix well. Though the fame maybe easily attainable, acceptance by the masses to one’s satisfaction, usually isn’t.

Be certain independent of facts, when you doubt yourself, you cannot be, you cannot do and you cannot have.

But if insecurity was the primal source of Hamilton's incredibly energy, one would have to conclude that providence had conspired to produce at the most opportune moment perhaps the most creative liability in American history.

Complexes can be the feelings of guilt, a victim complex, and fear of failure, criticism, poverty, and loneliness, loss of love, success, insecurity, denial, and low self-esteem

Confirmation bias is the most effective way to go on living a lie.

Fear nothing but your conscience.

Fear takes root in the soil of insecurity.

Fighting physically signifies spiritual weakness.

For fanaticism is the only form of willpower that even the weak and insecure can be brought to attain.

Fear (...) that has no relation to capabilities or even to reality is epidemic among women today. Fear of being independent (that could mean we'd end up alone and uncared for); fear of being dependent (that could mean we'd be swallowed by some dominating "other"); fear of being competent and good at what we do (that could mean we'd have to keep on being good at what we do); fear of being incompetent (that could mean we'd have to keep on feeling shlumpy, depressed, and second class). (...) Phobia has so thoroughly infiltrated the feminine experience it is like a secret plague. It has been built up over long years by social conditioning and is all the more insidious for being so thoroughly acculturated we do not even recognize what has happened to us. Women will not become free until they stop being afraid. We will not begin to experience real change in our lives, real emancipation, until we begin the process - almost a de-brainwashing - of working through the anxieties that prevent us from feeling competent and whole.

For one of the first pressures that bear down on American girls is the pressure not only to be liked but to be like everyone else. This initial feat of self-transformation often involves loosening one's grip on that quiet sense of inner self and hitching one's wagon to a single standard of beauty. The stress of leaping through that hoop insinuates itself into the young heart and soul with a vengeance, and insecurities go from being hard little buds of confusion to overripe, snarled and tyrannical fruits that hang on the vine as we age.

Give me your hand," Alice said, barely a whisper. Bones held out his hand tentatively. She took it and placed it on her heart over her left breast. So small. So delicate. She didn't move. He didn't move. Alice was his life. How could he make her his eternal? "Kiss me," she said. Bones let his hand linger, and then slowly slip away, not wanting her to think he was greedy. He touched her cheek, careful not to poke her in the eye. He wasn't sure what to do with his other hand, so he put it in his pocket. Classic move. He felt stupid for worrying about his breath, knowing it was gross from the wine--and he worried Alice was about to find out how little he knew about kissing--and he wondered if she had condoms in the bag--and imagined himself unrolling one, all suave-like--and realized he was wasting the most amazing moment of his life--and wished his brain would just shut the fuck up. Alice leaned forward. "Now." Bones shuddered. "Okay.

Future is a figment of your imagination.

Greatness comes not in possessing security, but in withstanding insecurity.

Have you ever thought for once that when you look in the mirror you are hyper aware of your flaws? When the rest of us may see something different. Like a teenager with a pimple. She doesn't focus on her beautiful eyes and cute lips, she zeros in on the one tiny flaw and goes nuts over it." He put his hands behind his head and looked at the ceiling. "You need to stop obsessing over your scars. It's only a quarter of your face and I can't tell you the last time I noticed.

He fidgets. Thinks. Observes his fellow passengers. Judges everyone, in the traditional Filipino sport of justifying both personal and shared insecurities.

He tries again, swallowing hard to ease away the painful lump in his throat. "It's just important. I love you. I'm yours. I need people to know." "Alright," Lindsay says suddenly. He leans down to grab at Pip's bag, throwing stuff out onto the carpet, his iPod and phone and wallet and gloves and Attitude magazine until he finds what he's looking for, a green marker pen, and holds it between his teeth while he starts tugging at the hem of Pip's t-shirt. Pip's too surprised to do anything but submit, he lets Lindsay peel off his t-shirt and throw that on top of all the things from his bag then just watches as Lindsay pulls the pen out of the cap in his mouth and signs his name in big green letters on the side of Pip's stomach. He holds his breath, trying not to suck in the belly fat everybody else keeps telling him is imaginary. "There, you're mine, are you fucking happy now?" Lindsay snaps, and throws the recapped pen across the room to get lost in the bookcase somewhere.

He who is jealous is better off not dating someone who is bisexual.

Hiding behind titles to create security is insecurity.

Humans are lamentably insecure creatures.

I am sure that I am in possession of a soul that is at the very least, a thousand years old. And I say this not on a whim; I say this as someone who is sure of something, who is not thinking fancifully but who is thinking solidly and fully. So why is it that I am childlike and playful? There is only one answer to this, and that is, after existing for a very long time, one learns the skill of retaining childlikeness and the state of childlikeness, which is called playfulness. The immature are not childlike and they are not playful; rather, they are manipulative and insecure. Manipulation is the game of the immature and insecurity is their state of being. I’m saying this because I want to draw the great distinction in the sand very clearly. The older your soul becomes, the more childlike it will be in texture. But we only make playtime out of small and joyful things; there is no playtime when it comes to bravery, honesty, and trust.

I am not that strong but my words are more powerful than I am. My soul is drowning under the weight of my own insecurities, my heart is often broken and my mind desperately struggles for the right words, often failing, but I hope that the words that I write with a vulnerable heart are strong enough to lift your spirit, awaken your consciousness and push you to the edge of your greatness.

Dans la vie y'a pas de grands, y'a pas de petits. La bonne longueur pour les jambes, c'est quand les pieds touchent par terre. In life, there are no tall or short people. The right length for a person's legs is when their feet touch the ground.

I did not want to appear before the world as pathetic, deprssed, and psychologically ill. So I erected a barrier of words and wit around myself, so that nobody could see how needy I really was.

If anyone doesn't agree with you, the truth is on your side.

If someone asks you a question and you don't know the answer, belittle them. It's better to be an asshole than look stupid.

If teachers are uncomfortable at their own school, they will pass on their uncertainties or negative attitude to students.

Creative people, as I see them, are distinguished by the fact that they can live with anxiety, even though a high price may be paid in terms of insecurity, sensitivity, and defenselessness for the gift of the “divine madness,” to borrow the term used by the classical Greeks. They do not run away from non-being, but by encountering and wrestling with it, force it to produce being. They knock on silence for an answering music; they pursue meaninglessness until they can force it to mean.

If there is any one person you can't love, then you don't understand love. The bitter cup we have to drink is the dregs of humility; we must see past the outer shells of insecurity to the seed of divinity deep inside each one of us. No one virtue is strong enough to stand on its own. No one vice is simple enough not to lead to all others. No one person can appreciate and support us as much as we need. No one event is enough to tear apart our lives. What does this all mean? We have to give everything or we will have nothing. We cannot take any short cuts. We have to love everyone, or we cannot truly love anyone. No excuse will mean anything to us in the end. People are beautiful, don’t forget that. Don’t let pomp and circumstance, society or folklore fool you with counterfeit beauty. True beauty is usually not something you can see, but something you feel; something that inspires you.