What is fear but that ‘thing’ that we believed to be as powerful as it pretended to be.

Maybe my greater fear should not be fear itself, but what I will lose should I submit to fear.

I’m not the author of my fears, but I sure feed them really well.

The problem with wearing a facade is that sooner or later life shows up with a big pair of scissors.

Fear is a lethal killer of dreams, the greatest cancer that has beset passion, and a ruthless thief of lives stolen and buried in the decay of lives squandered. Yet the greatest tragedy of all is that the fear that destroys us is rarely the monster it pretends to be, nor does it possess anything close to the power that we grant it. Therefore, it is only a killer, a cancer and a thief because we empower it to be so.

I cannot be afraid of being afraid. Rather, I need to realize that it is my fear that gives me the energy to wrestle that which I fear into the dirt that is soon to become the road underneath my feet.