Best 892 quotes in «fearless quotes» category

To be fearless no matter what happens-that is the root of true happiness. To move forward resolutely regardless of what lies in store-that is the spirit, the resolve, that leads to human victory.

To me fearless isn't not having fears, it's not that you're not afraid of anything. I think that being fearless is having a lot of fears, but you jump anyway.

Unlike Ray Porter, his love is fearless and without reservation.

TWINS by Nefesch is a fantastic piece of truly impromptu mentalism which will only be performed by fearless performers. Highly recommended!

We learn to fly not by being fearless, but by the daily practice of courage.

Until we know that we can bear the unbearable, we're always running scared.This is quotes copyright © By Pumpkin Limited

Walk through the storm fearless and strong. Follow your heart, it's all about to you.

What we need in literature today are vast philosophic horizons... we need the most ultimate, the most fearsome, the most fearless "Why?" and "What next?".

What is imprisonment to the man who is fearless of death itself?

What scares me? Oh, now that's a big question. I don't know what scares me - cockroaches, nuclear apocalypse. Fear is an interesting thing. It has a place in all of our lives. I try to be as fearless as possible. I don't always succeed, but I like to think I try.

What matters is this: Being fearless of failure arms you to break the rules. In doing so, you may change the culture and just possibly, for a moment, change life itself.

When it comes to my work, I'm fearless. I go with my gut.

When someone is fearless, when pain isn't a factor, it's impossible to break his spirit.

When I was younger, I was kind of fearless. I think it takes more courage to do things when you know more. I was completely naive, and I was like, why can't I do anything I want to do? You know, go for it.

When shall I at last retire into solitude alone, without companions, without joy and without sorrow, with only the sacred certainty that all is a dream? When, in my rags—without desires—shall I retire contented into the mountains? When, seeing that my body is merely sickness and crime, age and death, shall I—free, fearless, and blissful—retire to the forest? When? When, oh when?

When you realize no one else on this earth can be like you... that no other soul may know the beauty, sorrow, light and darkness you alone are given to see... then you will, at last, be the fearless individual your Heart of hearts has called you to be.

When we love, we are courageous; and courage has nothing to do with being fearless, it's about being willing to experience fear, even dread, to do what we must, without guarantee of outcome.

When you're frightened don't sit still, keep on doing something. The act of doing will give your back your courage.

When you're fearless, you take more risks because you're less conscious of failure or what can go wrong.

You are facing death and danger and competition, but at any moment, you can decide to have a fearless mindset.

Wonderful women! Have you ever thought how much we all, and women especially, owe to Shakespeare for his vindication of women in these fearless, high-spirited, resolute and intelligent heroines?

You don't have to be fearless. Just be sincere.

You don't have to be fearless to do anything, you can be scared out of your mind.

You can be fearful or fearless...I chose the latter

You only get one life so you might as well make it a happy one, and that's why I tend to just jump into things. I'm sort of a fearless idiot that way.

You might slow down a little bit, you might not jump as high as you used to, but I know what I'm doing and I'm fearless.

You put the Devil on the other side, and I will come to fight.

You'll never get anywhere unless you're independent of the good and bad opinion of others. Be fearless.

You're out there on a high wire without a net, and that's the way actors operate. They have to be fearless about how they work and they have to create a life for the audience in 90 minutes and make them believe.

A bird that fears turbulence will never know how high it can fly.

You, too, be courageous! The world needs convinced and fearless witnesses. It is not enough to discuss, it is necessary to act!

A bird must overcome its fear of heights before it can rule the skies.

You will be fierce. You will fearless. And you will make work you know in your heart is not as good as you want it to be.

A bird in a nest is secure, but that is not why God gave it wings.

A bird only conquers the sky when it has mastered enough courage to lose sight of the ground.

Accept it as it is and be true to yourself, the real answer is in you. It is about saying no to whom and what no is due and saying yes to whom and what yes is due! A simple solution to most of the problems of mankind today is just Yes and No!

A life spent at the edge of the pier is a life full of regret, a life full of fear.

A fearless person wins half the battle before it begins.

A fierce pigeon is better than a cowardly turkey.

A fierce wolf is greater than a cowardly lion.

A fish must overcome its fear of depths before it can rule the waters.

A job interview is a two-way communication to probe for cultural and team fit. No matter which side of the table you sit, you should be asking questions that are important to you without fear.

A lion knows hunger, not fear.

A lion's strength does not lie in its roar.

A lion will never be afraid of sheep, no matter how many outnumber it.

All at once, something wonderful happened, although at first, it seemed perfectly ordinary. A female goldfinch suddenly hove into view. She lighted weightlessly on the head of a bankside purple thistle and began emptying the seedcase, sowing the air with down. The lighted frame of my window filled. The down rose and spread in all directions, wafting over the dam’s waterfall and wavering between the tulip trunks and into the meadow. It vaulted towards the orchard in a puff; it hovered over the ripening pawpaw fruit and staggered up the steep faced terrace. It jerked, floated, rolled, veered, swayed. The thistle down faltered down toward the cottage and gusted clear to the woods; it rose and entered the shaggy arms of pecans. At last it strayed like snow, blind and sweet, into the pool of the creek upstream, and into the race of the creek over rocks down. It shuddered onto the tips of growing grasses, where it poised, light, still wracked by errant quivers. I was holding my breath. Is this where we live, I thought, in this place in this moment, with the air so light and wild? The same fixity that collapses stars and drives the mantis to devour her mate eased these creatures together before my eyes: the thick adept bill of the goldfinch, and the feathery coded down. How could anything be amiss? If I myself were lighter and frayed, I could ride these small winds, too, taking my chances, for the pleasure of being so purely played. The thistle is part of Adam’s curse. “Cursed is the ground for thy sake, in sorrow shalt thou eat of it; thorns also and thistles shall it bring forth to thee.” A terrible curse: But does the goldfinch eat thorny sorrow with the thistle or do I? If this furling air is fallen, then the fall was happy indeed. If this creekside garden is sorrow, then I seek martyrdom. I was weightless; my bones were taut skins blown with buoyant gas; it seemed that if I inhaled too deeply, my shoulders and head would waft off. Alleluia.

A clever person solves a problem; a wise person uses Cosmic Ordering!

A coward is always sweating, even in cold water.

A divided mind cannot conquer a united soul.

A kind of northing is what I wish to accomplish, a single-minded trek towards that place where any shutter left open to the zenith at night will record the wheeling of all the sky’s stars as a pattern of perfect, concentric circles. I seek a reduction, a shedding, a sloughing off. At the seashore you often see a shell, or fragment of a shell, that sharp sands and surf have thinned to a wisp. There is no way you can tell what kind of shell it had been, what creature it had housed; it could have been a whelk or a scallop, a cowrie, limpet, or conch. The animal is long since dissolved, and its blood spread and thinned in the general sea. All you hold in your hand is a cool shred of shell, an inch long, pared so thin that it passes a faint pink light. It is an essence, a smooth condensation of the air, a curve. I long for the North where unimpeded winds would hone me to such a pure slip of bone. But I’ll not go northing this year. I’ll stalk that floating pole and frigid air by waiting here. I wait on bridges; I wait, struck, on forest paths and meadow’s fringes, hilltops and banksides, day in and day out, and I receive a southing as a gift. The North washes down the mountains like a waterfall, like a tidal wave, and pours across the valley; it comes to me. It sweetens the persimmons and numbs the last of the crickets and hornets; it fans the flames of the forest maples, bows the meadow’s seeded grasses and pokes it chilling fingers under the leaf litter, thrusting the springtails and the earthworms deeper into the earth. The sun heaves to the south by day, and at night wild Orion emerges looming like the Specter over Dead Man Mountain. Something is already here, and more is coming.