Dread Quotes - Page 19

• There is a certain freedom in giving up all hope. One is no longer bound by the cords of dread or fear; you simply move toward the inevitable without thinking on the consequences.

  Rachel Caine

  Giving Up, Moving, Thinking

  Rachel Caine (2011). “Last Breath”, p.232, Allison & Busby

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• That's the strangest thing about this life, about being in the ministry. People change the subject when they see you coming. And then sometimes those very same people come into your study and tell you the most remarkable things. There's a lot under the surface of life, everyone knows that. A lot of malice and dread and guilt, and so much loneliness, where you wouldn't really expect to find it, either.

  Marilynne Robinson

  Loneliness, People, Guilt

  Marilynne Robinson (2004). “Gilead: A Novel”, p.6, Macmillan

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• I looked where he was tapping. "Local Girl Missing, Feared Dead" Beneath it was a photo or me-my most recent school photo. "Oh no." My heart filling with dread, i took the paper from Mr. Smith's hands. "Couldn't they have found a better picture?

  Meg Cabot

  Girl, Heart, School

  Meg Cabot (2013). “The Abandon Trilogy: Abandon, Underworld and Awaken”, p.250, Pan Macmillan

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• The world is quieter now. It is never quiet, but it can get quieter. What strange creatures we are, to find silence peaceful, when permanent silence is the thing we most dread. Nighttime is not that. Nighttime still rustles, still creaks and whispers and trembles in its throat. It is not darkness we fear, but our own helplessness within it. How merciful to have been granted the other senses.

  David Levithan

  Silence, Peaceful, Darkness

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• Those spacious regions where our fancies roam,
  Pain'd by the past, expecting ills to come,
  In some dread moment, by the fates assign'd,
  Shall pass away, nor leave a rack behind;
  And Time's revolving wheels shall lose at last
  The speed that spins the future and the past:
  And, sovereign of an undisputed throne,
  Awful eternity shall reign alone.

  Petrarch

  Time, Pain, Fate

  Francesco Petrarch (2016). “Delphi Collected Poetical Works of Francesco Petrarch (Illustrated)”, p.440, Delphi Classics

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• I hear that in many places something has happened to Christmas; that it is changing from a time of merriment and carefree gaiety to a holiday which is filled with tedium; that many people dread the day and the obligation to give Christmas presents is a nightmare to weary, bored souls; that the children of enlightened parents no longer believe in Santa Claus; that all in all, the effort to be happy and have pleasure makes many honest hearts grow dark with despair instead of beaming with good will and cheerfulness.

  Julia Peterkin

  Christmas, Xmas, Children

  "A Plantation Christmas". Book by Julia Peterkin, 1934.

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• But that the dread of something after death,
  The undiscover'd country from whose bourn
  No traveller returns, puzzles the will
  And makes us rather bear those ills we have
  Than fly to others that we know not of?

  William Shakespeare

  Life, Death, Country

  'Hamlet' (1601) act 3, sc. 1, l. 56

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• Liberty is meaningless where the right to utter one's thoughts and opinions has ceased to exist. That, of all rights, is the dread of tyrants. It is the right which they first of all strike down.

  Frederick Douglass

  Freedom, Rights, Tyrants

  Frederick Douglass (2013). “Selected Addresses of Frederick Douglass”, p.55, Simon and Schuster

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• The first law of history is to dread uttering a falsehood; the next is not to fear stating the truth; lastly, the historian's writings should be open to no suspicion of partiality or animosity.

  Pope Leo XIII

  Writing, Law, History

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• Years! Years, ye shall mix with me!
  Ye shall grow a part
  Of the laughing Sea;
  Of the moaning heart
  Of the glittered wave
  Of the sun-gleam's dart
  In the ocean-grave.
  Fair, cold, and faithless wert thou, my own!
  For that I love
  Thy heart of stone!
  From the heights above
  To the depths below,
  Where dread things move,
  
  There is naught can show
  A life so trustless! Proud be thy crown!
  Ruthless, like none, save the Sea, alone!

  Voltairine de Cleyre

  Life, Ocean, Moving

  "The Dirge of the Sea". Poem by Voltairine de Cleyre, April 1891.

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• Love and Dread are brethren, and they are rooted in us by the Goodness of our Maker, and they shall never be taken from us without end. We have of nature to love and we have of grace to love: and we have of nature to dread and we have of grace to dread.

  Julian of Norwich

  Life, Taken, Grace

  Julian of Norwich (2014). “Collected Works”, p.222, Lulu Press, Inc

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• Love, from its awful throne of patient power
  In the wise heart, from the last giddy hour
  Of dread endurance, from the slippery, steep,
  And narrow verge of crag-like agony, springs
  And folds over the world its healing wings.

  Percy Bysshe Shelley

  Life, Wise, Spring

  Percy Bysshe Shelley, Mary Wollstonecraft Godwin Shelley (1855). “The Poetical Works of Percy Bysshe Shelley: In Three Volumes”, p.441

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• The only position that leaves me with no cognitive dissonance is atheism. It is not a creed. Death is certain, replacing both the siren-song of Paradise and the dread of Hell. Life on this earth, with all its mystery and beauty and pain, is then to be lived far more intensely: we stumble and get up, we are sad, confident, insecure, feel loneliness and joy and love. There is nothing more; but I want nothing more.

  Christopher Hitchens

  Motivational, Song, Atheist

  Christopher Hitchens (2007). “The Portable Atheist: Essential Readings for the Nonbeliever”, p.480, Da Capo Press

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• Eight grown Americans out of ten dread the coming of the Fourth, with its pandemonium and its perils, and they rejoice when it is gone-if still alive.

  Mark Twain

  4th Of July, Eight, Gone

  Mark Twain, Charles Neider (1961). “The travels of Mark Twain”

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• It is vain to think that any weariness, however caused, any burden, however slight, may be got rid of otherwise than by bowing the neck to the yoke of the Father's will. There can be no other rest for heart and soul than He has created. From every burden, from every anxiety, from all dread of shame or loss, even loss of love itself, that yoke will set us free.

  George MacDonald

  Father, Heart, Loss

  George MacDonald (2016). “The Hope of the Gospel: MacDonald's Works”, p.90, VM eBooks

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• People dread silence because it is transparent; like clear water, which reveals every obstacle—the used, the dead, the drowned, silence reveals the cast-off words and thoughts dropped in to obscure its clear stream. And when people stare too close to silence they sometimes face their own reflections, their magnified shadows in the depths, and that frightens them. I know; I know.

  Janet Frame

  Fear, Reflection, People

  Janet Frame (1980). “Scented gardens for the blind: a novel”, George Braziller

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• To get up in the morning, wash and then wait for some unforeseen variety of dread or depression. I would give the whole universe and all of Shakespeare for a grain of ataraxy.

  Emile M. Cioran

  Morning, Giving, Waiting

  Emile M. Cioran (1976). “The Trouble with Being Born”, Viking Books

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• What is an "I", and why are such things found (at least so far) only in association with, as poet Russell Edson once wonderfully phrased it, "teetering bulbs of dread and dream" - that is, only in association with certain kinds of gooey lumps encased in hard protective shells mounted atop mobile pedestals that roam the world on pairs of slightly fuzzy, jointed stilts?

  Douglas Hofstadter

  Dream, Pedestal, Shells

  "Godel, Escher, Bach". Book by Douglas Hofstadter, observer.com. 1979.

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• Deep within every man there lies the dread of being alone in the world, forgotten by God, overlooked among the tremendous household of millions and millions.

  Soren Kierkegaard

  Lying, Men, World

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• Each leaf that brushed his face deepened his sadness and dread. Each leaf he passed he'd never pass again. They rode over his face like veils, already some yellow, their veins like slender bones where the sun shone through them. He had resolved himself to ride on for he could not turn back and the world that day was as lovely as any day that ever was and he was riding to his death.

  Cormac McCarthy

  Sadness, Yellow, Lovely

  "Child of God". Book by Cormac McCarthy, 1973.

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• The amateur believes he must first overcome his fear; then he can do his work. The professional knows that fear can never be overcome. He knows there is no such thing as a fearless warrior or a dread-free artist.

  Steven Pressfield

  Believe, Warrior, Artist

  Steven Pressfield (2002). “The War of Art: Break Through the Blocks and Win Your Inner Creative Battles”, p.79, Black Irish Entertainment LLC

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• We're not our skin of grime, we're not our dread bleak dusty imageless locomotive, we're all beautiful golden sunflowers inside, we're blessed by our own seed & hairy naked accomplishment-bodies growing into mad black formal sunflowers in the sunset, spied on by our eyes under the shadow of the mad locomotive riverbank sunset Frisco hilly tincan evening sitdown vision.

  Allen Ginsberg

  Beautiful, Blessed, Sunset

  Allen Ginsberg, “Sunflower Sutra”

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• No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear. I am not afraid, but the sensation is like being afraid. The same fluttering in the stomach, the same restlessness, the yawning. I keep on swallowing. At other times it feels like being mildly drunk, or concussed. There is a sort of invisible blanket between the world and me. I find it hard to take in what anyone says. Or perhaps, hard to want to take it in. It is so uninteresting. Yet I want the others to be about me. I dread the moments when the house is empty. If only they would talk to one another and not to me.

  C. S. Lewis

  Fear, Grief, Yawning

  C.S. Lewis (2012). “A Grief Observed”, p.5, Faber & Faber

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• World of words lost on the living / I take my place with the walking dead / Robbed of my voice I'm always giving / Thousands of words to this nameless dread.

  Maggie Stiefvater

  Voice, Giving, Walking Dead

  Maggie Stiefvater (2011). “Shiver Trilogy (Shiver, Linger, Forever)”, p.231, Scholastic Inc.

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• How surely are the dead beyond death. Death is what the living carry with them. A state of dread, like some uncanny foretaste of a bitter memory. But the dead do not remember and nothingness is not a curse. Far from it.

  Cormac McCarthy

  Death, Memories, Bitter

  Cormac McCarthy (2010). “Suttree”, p.184, Pan Macmillan

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