A Quote by Ted Dekker

Adrenaline dulls reason; panic kills it. — © Ted Dekker
Adrenaline dulls reason; panic kills it.
Who kills a man kills a reasonable creature, God's image, but thee who destroys a good book, kills reason its self.
Who kills a man kills a reasonable creature, God's image; but he who destroys a good book, kills reason itself, kills the image of God, as it were, in the eye.
Man's destructive hand spares nothing that lives; he kills to feed himself, he kills to clothe himself, he kills to adorn himself, he kills to attack, he kills to defend himself, he kills to instruct himself, he kills to amuse himself, he kills for the sake of killing.
And yet on the other hand unless warinesse be us'd, as good almost kill a Man as kill a good Book; who kills a Man kills a reasonable creature, Gods Image, but hee who destroyes a good Booke, kills reason it selfe, kills the Image of God, as it were in the eye.
Panic is efficient. Panic is effective. Panic is the way I get things done! Panic attacks are my booster rockets!
A lack of street footballers dulls the imagination, dulls that natural thinking outside the box. You need that on the street when you're 9 and have to beat a 14-year-old on the dribble. Or if you get knocked out and have to sit on the side and come on.
One kills a man, one is an assassin; one kills millions, one is a conqueror; one kills everybody, one is a god.
I make a project and I panic. Which is good, it can be a method. First, panic. Second, conquer panic by working. Third, find ways to solve your doubts.
Adrenaline is the reason I do what I do.
The only situation which might justify panic is one in which panic is likely to help. Such a situation never arises. Though pretended panic may sometimes cause a useful diversion, real panic can never be anything other than a waste of energy.
The man who kills a man kills a man. The man who kills himself kills all men. As far as he is concerned, he wipes out the world.
You picked the seats you did for a reason, right? Familiarity. Too bad the best sleuths avoid familiarity. It dulls the investigative instinct.
Spiritual worldliness kills! It kills the soul! It kills the Church!
Charm is the great English blight. It does not exist outside these damp islands. It spots and kills anything it touches. It kills love; it kills art; I greatly fear, my dear Charles, it has killed you.
I'm an adrenaline junkie, I won't deny it. I'm not addicted to anything in life, except adrenaline.
Not only is suicide a sin, it is the sin. It is the ultimate and absolute evil, the refusal to take an interest in existence; the refusal to take the oath of loyalty to life. The man who kills a man, kills a man. The man who kills himself, kills all men. As far as he is concerned he wipes out the world.
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