I am bravery. I am courage. I am valor. I am daring. I am holding a thesaurus.
Fear looks both ways but still refuses to cross; fear looks twice and still doesn't leap. ... Fear usually arrives late, inevitably leaves early, and ends up never going out of town at all. Fear is the phantom hand on the back of the neck and the sound of a door opening downstairs when no one is coming home. ... Fear grows poor because it watches others gain wealth but cannot enter the fray; fear grows sick because it eats away at heath even as it fears its diminishment; fear grows old watching others live in ways that seem to threaten-but in reality only enhance-life.
Fear to do base, unworthy things is valor; if they be one to us, to suffer them is valor too.
Steadfastness, that is holding on; patience, that is holding back; expectancy, that is holding the face up; obedience, that is holding one's self in readiness to go or do; listening, that is holding quiet and still so as to hear.
I have had fear in the past, yes. I've learned to fight it. But I still have my moments. I just have to remind myself that fear is all within your mind, and that you're only holding yourself back when you give in to it. Even fear of success can be scary.
What's holding us back from being free is fear. Whether it be fear of those on the outside who don't understand queer people or any other minority, or the actual minorities themselves being scared. The lack of freedom we experience is all tied to fear.
Every day my love for you grows higher, deeper, wider, stronger... It grows and grows until it touches the tip of where you are and comes back to me in the loving memory of you, and my heart melts with that love and grows even more.
Courage comes by being brave; fear comes by holding back.
Daring is doing. Daring is asking something outrageous despite your chances of failure and rejection. Daring is going out on a limb by believing in something that no one else understands, and if all fails, daring is trying again.
Moss grows where nothing else can grow. It grows on bricks. It grows on tree bark and roofing slate. It grows in the Arctic Circle and in the balmiest tropics; it also grows on the fur of sloths, on the backs of snails, on decaying human bones. ... It is a resurrection engine. A single clump of mosses can lie dormant and dry for forty years at a stretch, and then vault back again into life with a mere soaking of water.
Your love
Should never be offered to the mouth of a
Stranger,
Only to someone
Who has the valor and daring
To cut pieces of their soul off with a knife
Then weave them into a blanket
To protect you.
I have a little mantra: My fear grows fat on the energy I feed it. And if it grows very big, it probably happens.
I have a little mantra: 'My fear grows fat on the energy I feed it. And if it grows very big, it probably happens.'
We cherish too, the Poppy red
That grows on fields where valor led,
It seems to signal to the skies
That blood of heroes never dies.
When you hear fear knocking on the door, most of the time when you answer it there’s nothing there. It’s just you holding yourself back.
Discipline is, in a manner, nothing else but the art of inspiring the soldiers with greater fear of their officers than of the enemy. This fear has often the effect of courage: but it cannot prevail against the fierce and obstinate valor of people animated by fanaticism, or warm love of their country.