A Quote by Famke Janssen

When someone holds a knife to your throat it's easy to be scared. It's not hard to imagine what it would be like. — © Famke Janssen
When someone holds a knife to your throat it's easy to be scared. It's not hard to imagine what it would be like.
It's important to cultivate detachment. One way to do this is to practice imagining yourself dead, or in the process of dying. If there's a window, you must imagine your body falling out the window. If there's a knife, you must imagine the knife piercing your skin. If there's a train coming, you must imagine your torso flattened under its wheels. These exercises are necessary to achieving the proper distance.
No hard guy's not scared when another hard guy's knife is coming at you. You're scared, obviously, but you've to act less scared than he is. It's who is going to act less scared.
It is hard for me to imagine that I felt good about behaving like that. I also remember that the smallest gesture of affection would bring a lump to my throat, whether it was directed at me or at someone else. Sometimes all it took was a scene in a movie. This juxtaposition of callousness and extreme sensitivity seemed suspicious even to me.
I was really scared to get my boobs done. Having injections is easy peasy, but going under the knife, like that was my first time ever.
I can’t imagine what it would be like to have sex with a man. To be so intimate with another person. Not to hide anything. I don’t know if I could do that. It would have to be a boy anyway, not a grown man, someone as scared as me.
I find you irritating. (Kat) I haven’t even begun to irritate you yet. Imagine what I could do if I applied myself? (Solin) I can imagine. I can also imagine ripping your throat out and tying my shoes with your larynx. (Kat)
You knew when a woman loves you like that, she can love you with every card in the deck and then pull a knife across your throat the next morning.
Even now, as I write this, I can still feel that tightness. And I want you to feel it--the wind coming off the river, the waves, the silence, the wooded frontier. You're at the bow of a boat on the Rainy River. You're twenty-one years old, you're scared, and there's a hard squeezing pressure in your chest. What would you do? Would you jump? Would you feel pity for yourself? Would you think about your family and your childhood and your dreams and all you're leaving behind? Would it hurt? Would it feel like dying? Would you cry, as I did?
I had a sore throat for a long time and it scared me. I saw a lump in my throat and I was terrified. I wouldn't go to a doctor.
Man, I used to go around and think, 'Oh my God, what must it be like to be going down the street, and someone asks you, 'What's your name?' and the reply would be, 'John Coltrane.' I couldn't imagine what that would be like.
It's hard when you read an article saying bad things about you. It is as if someone is sticking a knife on your heart. But I am the harshest critic of my work.
I'm not scared of getting hurt. I'm not scared of, pretty much, anything. If you live your life scared, what's the fun in living it? If you were scared of getting hit by a car, would you still cross the street?
I would be scared to go under the knife, but you know, talk to me when I'm 50. I'll try anything. Except I won't do Botox again, because I looked crazy. I looked like Joan Rivers!
When you're scared - and I mean really scared, not just hearing a noise in the night, or standing toe to toe with someone twice your size who wants to pound you into the earth - it feels as if you're being injected with darkness. It's like black water as cold as ice settling in your body where your blood and marrow used to be, pushing every other feeling out as it fills you from your feet to your scalp. It leaves you with nothing.
The damning tho't stuck in my throat and cut me like a knife, That she, whom all my life I'd loved, should be another's wife.
What's crazy is living your life according to some book written by someone who couldn't imagine what your life would be like.
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