Time is my enemy. Time will catch up with me vocally. And I dread that. I dread to think about life without singing.
Slow, skinny, and an utter countryside coward: I lived in dread of nettles, spiders, and the very sound of a wasp. As a victim, I was beneath the dignity of the bullies in my year but fair game to the ones in the year below.
I usually dread writing non-fiction. I don’t feel comfortable or confident writing essays and the like.
When superpower countries like the United States and the former Soviet Union contemplated moving their conflicts to outer space, there was justifiable fear and dread.
A State infinitely worse than that which the most inflamed Zealot, the most violent Republican or Enthusiast even pretended to dread before the Rebellion commenced.
I have a dread of sounding pretentious and try not to talk too much about what I do.
I have always had a dread of becoming a passenger in life.
I will confess that almost all my inspiration has come from one emotion: fear. And terrible dread of the moment when I will finally be exposed as a fraud.
The advance of science spares us from irrational dread.
As an actor, I’m very much a company person. And this also goes through my life: I have a dread of responsibility. I like someone else to be in charge.
I know wearing a bikini is a thing a lot of women dread, but I keep up my training regime whether it’s winter or summer, so my body always stays the same.
Even before 9/11 I was gripped by a sense of dread: our lack of criticism about what we were doing in the Middle East – the slagging off of a whole religious tradition.
When I have that sinking feeling in my stomach before a fight and I have that dread that I’m going to step in there with a savage who is coming in there to hurt me… I have my best fights. I’m at my best under those circumstances.
Doubt is the enemy of mania. It’s trying to get aloft strung with weights. The moment I like writing is three sentences in, when somehow those weights drop away, and you can invent. I cannot tell you the dread I have.
I dread to be compared to all these directors who have a lot of spontaneous emoting and swearing in their films – that is death; it’s a cul-de-sac. It doesn’t lift the material at all. It’s just a cliched reproduction of what we think is normal behaviour.
I live in dread that I might find myself in some sort of emergency, and everyone will turn to me and expect me to know what the correct procedures are.
One of my favorite vampire movies is ‘Nosferatu,’ which has a palpable sense of dread that’s a pre-war dread.
The terrorist threat is so cloudy, faceless, and vague, so manipulable by political purposes, so definitely present but indefinitely manifested, that it sometimes feels interchangeable with everyday dread itself.
The essential truth is that sometimes you’re worried that they’ll find out it’s a fluke, that you don’t really have it. You’ve lost the muse or – the worst dread – you never had it at all. I went through all that madness early on.
During my life I have seen, known, and lost too much to be the prey of vain dread; and, as for the hope of immortality, I am as weary of that as I am of gods and kings. For my own sake only I write this; and herein I differ from all other writers, past and to come.
I dread going to court.
I look forward without dogmatic optimism but without dread.
Sometimes you just dread reading scripts; it’s like the chef who doesn’t want to cook at home.
Each year, I await with dread the federal government’s catalog of endangered and threatened species in the Hawaiian Islands, where I was raised and where I live.
Life inspires more dread than death – it is life which is the great unknown.
People’s imagination is the most effective tool in creating terror or dread.
True horror, I think, deals with dread and menace and gets under your skin.
Because I write what I feel the most heavy about. So if there is one day of the week when I feel completely crushed by existential dread, I’ll end up writing about it, not the great day I had at the park with my friends. I hope it resonates with people – and it does, with some.
The dread of criticism is the death of genius.
Everyone talks about the big three-oh with dread – but it’s exciting. It feels like life is much more put together. Everyone’s like, ‘Wouldn’t you like to be 20 again?’ But no way.
Responsibility is the thing people dread most of all. Yet it is the one thing in the world that develops us, gives us manhood or womanhood fiber.
My aim then was to whip the rebels, to humble their pride, to follow them to their inmost recesses, and make them fear and dread us.
Teach me to live, that I may dread The grave as little as my bed.
I wake up with a sense of wonder. I don’t dread the future. I like it.
People struggle with moments of deep dread about life and moments of surety. Often within the course of the same day. Life is a roller coaster, especially if you take risks.
I have covered wars, before the epidemic began and since. They are all ugly and painful and unjust, but for me, nothing has matched the dread I felt while walking through the Castro, the Village, or Dupont Circle at the height of the AIDS epidemic.
I just think that for a lot of people – not to take the focus off of myself – that feeling of imminent dread, like a cloak of black dust, was always around me.
I get asked to do panel shows, and reality stuff, like getting in a cage with a shark. I got asked to do a ‘Strictly’ special, but it’s not my bag. If I’m being interviewed, that’s OK, but anything else fills me with dread.
I think that where I’ve watched a movie go wrong, it’s usually because the dread committee has been interfering with it.
We do not deride the fears of prospering white America. A nation of violence and private property has every reason to dread the violated and the deprived.
I want to have a good time myself. I don’t want to dread going to work no matter what the gig is. I think, selfishly, I will make sure that I have a good time; how about that?
The act of exercising at 6 A.M. really helped me. It made me not dread the workout part of my day all day long. Also, when I went to have a tiny cheat, I would really think back to how hard I worked and thought, ‘It is not worth going to boot camp an extra week over one peanut butter cup.’
Anyone who’s a parent dreads that call in the middle of the night. I have four grown children and I still dread it.
Sometimes I dread the truth of the lines I say. But the dread must never show.
Pages: 1 2
