frightened

Every danger loses some of its terror once its causes are understood.

Whatever the depth of our darkness, God navigated it eons before it was dark. And whatever the duration of our nights, God was there long before it ever turned to night. Therefore, despite our frequent feelings to the contrary, there is no place we might be where God was not lovingly waiting for us an eternity before we got there.

It's what's buried deep inside that frightens me because it's broken, like a shattered mirror.

How often do I stand in abject terror and raw trepidation before the impossible peaks that soar to impossible heights in front me, when God turns to me and calmly says __hat mountains?

Seven billion who need to be kept happy, and docile, until the end. How do you do that? What's the best way to calm down a scared kid, get them to go back to sleep? Tell them a story. Some shit about Jesus or whatever.

I'm afraid to go out at night because it's too dark.I'm afraid to try different food because I may not like it.I'm afraid to do something different because what if I fail.I'm afraid to smile at someone because it may lead to a conversation.I'm afraid to make friends because they may end up leaving me one day.I'm afraid to commit to any relationship because what if they're not as committed as I am.I'm afraid to go out because someone may break in while I'm not home.I'm afraid to think differently than everyone else because they may think that I'm crazy.I'm afraid of shadows because what would happen if one of them isn't my own.I'm afraid of being afraid because I'm too scared of everything.I'm afraid...Each of us is afraid of something, but if we let our fears dominate our lives, then we don't have any kind of life at all I'm afraid.

Frightened people live in their own special hell.

_Do you think there__ somewhere else, some other place to go after this one?_ Mandy blurted out.__ou mean when you die, where will you end up?_ Alecto asked her. __I wouldn__ know_ back to whatever void there is, I suppose._____e thought about it_ every living thing dies alone, it__l be lonely after death,_ Mandy sighed sadly. __hat freaks me out, does it scare you?___ don't want to be alone,_ Alecto replied wearily. __e won__ be, though. We__l be dead, so we__l just be darkness, not much else, just memories, nostalgia and darkness.___ don__ want to be any of that either though,_ Mandy exclaimed, bursting into tears and crying, keeping her eyes to the floor, her voice shaky as she spoke to him. __hen we die, we__l still be nothing, the world will still be nothing, everything__l just be nothing!___ou__e real though, at least that__ something,_ Alecto pointed out, holding his hand out in front of her. Smiling miserably, Mandy took his hand in her own and sat there beside him quietly.

No. No_ No!_ the fear ebbed my voice, cut through me like a knife. I ran, bare feet slipping and sliding over the floorboards. I turned the corner and headed for the backdoor.Run. Run. I must run.As soon as I reached the backdoor in the kitchen, pulling the barn door from the hinges, I felt his gaze upon me. Cinders and kindling crunched at my feet; what had once been my lovely mahogany kitchen furniture was now little more than firewood. My crockery and china splintered in shards and as I turned to face him, I felt them dig into my skin, cut me with every shiver that bolted through my frame.__ou wanted Hemlock House. You have, Hemlock House._ His voice was dark, cruel and yet hauntingly light. As if cooing, whispering to a newborn. He was lounging against the countertop as if waiting for breakfast, as if waiting for something so meaningless.

Faith is rare because fear is rampant. For faith will demand that I step into places that fear itself fears to go.

Suddenly, a voice called from the darkness. Taylor leapt like a salmon, then became rooted to the spot like a tin of salmon.

An angry wife can be more frightening than an army of disgruntled soldiers.

He had a hungry look in his eyes and it frightened her.

I can attempt to stay on the fence. However, the problem is that the fence is a figment of my fear not a reality of my journey.

You can't stop a soldier from being frightened but you can give him motivation to help him overcome that fear. I have no such motivation. I can't have. I'm a witcher: an artificially created mutant. I kill monsters for money. I defend children when their parents pay me to. If Nilfgaardian parents pay me, I'll defend Nilfgaardian children. And even if the world lies in ruin - which does not seem likely to me - I'll carry on killing monsters in the ruins of this world until some monster kills me. That is my fate, my reason, my life and my attitude to the world. And it is not what I chose. It was chosen for me.

You won't become what you want to be, else you become what you fear to be.

You couldn't save your mom because you weren't strong enough to do so. As for me, I couldn't stand and face the titan because I simply didn't have the courage! Forgive me... Forgive me.

Is it possible that my walls are specifically erected and intentionally reinforced out of the fear that God calls me to an existence without walls? And if this is so, do I realize that I am the warden of prison that I created in which I myself am the prisoner?