Monroe Fear Quotes

We should all start to live before we get too old. Fear is stupid. So are regrets.

I can't— You can and you will.Take me, baby.

Fear is stupid, so are regrets.

It's too much. No. It's not enough.

Looking at me like that will get you fucked, Monroe.

Wait! I'm not ready. Tough shit, Monroe. You had a year to get ready. Can we talk about this? I'm done talking. It's time to fuck.

Don't do this. I have every intention of doing this. I have since the first time you looked at me with the same need that I felt every damn day.

I wish I could get Keiran to tell me about his past. I feel like it has everything to do with why he is this way. You ever think he might just have a really dominant personality?

He lifted his head and stared at me with a dark look in his eyes. You taste sweeter than you pretend to be.

Handcuffs. Freaking handcuffs. What are you doing with those? Handcuffing you. No, I mean why do you have them in the first place? I'm saving them for a rainy day. These are new actually. It's like a “thinking of you” gift because I was thinking of you when I bought them.

You don’t know me beyond my cock, Monroe. Don’t pretend otherwise.

I brought you here didn't I? Why so you can chain me up in your basement. Don't give me ideas, Monroe or you'll never make it out of here. The only reason I haven't chained you in my basement is because I know you'll be missed.

As for Monroe, I would stay away for now, but I had no intention of letting her go. She would have to be pried from my cold, lifeless fingers.

We should all start to live before we get too old. Fear is stupid. So are regrets. ― Marilyn Monroe

Fear is stupid. So are regrets. -Marilyn Monroe

He came around to open my door and held out his hand to me. The gesture said more than what the eye could see. He could have easily lifted me out of the car without me being able to do anything to stop him but instead he was asking for my consent. To accept what was about the happen.

but was this funny? was this funny? was this funny? why was this funny? why was Sugar Kane funny? why were men dressed as women funny? why were men made up as women funny? why were men staggering in high heels funny? why was Sugar Kane funny, was Sugar Kane the supreme female impersonator? was this funny? why was this funny? why is female funny? why were people going to laugh at Sugar Kane & fall in love with Sugar Kane? why, another time? why would Sugar Kane Kovalchick girl ukulelist be such a box office success in America? why dazzling-blond girl ukulelist alcoholic Sugar Kane Kovalchick a success? why Some Like It Hot a masterpiece? why Monroe's masterpiece? why Monroe's most commercial movie? why did they love her? why when her life was in shreds like clawed silk? why when her life was in pieces like smashed glass? why when her insides had bled out? why when her insides had been scooped out? why when she carried poison in her womb? why when her head was ringing with pain? her mouth stinging with red ants? why when everybody on the set of the film hated her? resented her? feared her? why when she was drowning before their eyes? I wanna be loved by you boop boopie do! why was Sugar Kane Kovalchick of Sweet Sue's Society Syncopaters so seductive? I wanna be kissed by nobody else but you I wanna! I wanna! I wanna be loved by you alone but why? why was Marilyn so funny? why did the world adore Marilyn? who despised herself? was that why? why did the world love Marilyn? why when Marilyn had killed her baby? why when Marilyn had killed her babies? why did the world want to fuck Marilyn? why did the world want to fuck fuck fuck Marilyn? why did the world want to jam itself to the bloody hilt like a great tumescent sword in Marilyn? was it a riddle? was it a warning? was it just another joke? I wanna be loved by you boop boopie do nobody else but you nobody else but you nobody else

dreams weren’t built on fear. They were built on the courage you used to get over it.

That's the myth of it, the required lie that allows us to render our judgments. Parasites, criminals, dope fiends, dope peddlers, whores--when we can ride past them at Fayette and Monroe, car doors locked, our field of vision cautiously restricted to the road ahead, then the long journey into darkness is underway. Pale-skinned hillbillies and hard-faced yos, toothless white trash and gold-front gangsters--when we can glide on and feel only fear, we're well on the way. And if, after a time, we can glimpse the spectacle of the corner and manage nothing beyond loathing and contempt, then we've arrived at last at that naked place where a man finally sees the sense in stretching razor wire and building barracks and directing cattle cars into the compound. It's a reckoning of another kind, perhaps, and one that becomes a possibility only through the arrogance and certainty that so easily accompanies a well-planned and well-tended life. We know ourselves, we believe in ourselves; from what we value most, we grant ourselves the illusion that it's not chance in circumstance, that opportunity itself isn't the defining issue. We want the high ground; we want our own worth to be acknowledged. Morality, intelligence, values--we want those things measured and counted. We want it to be about Us. Yes, if we were down there, if we were the damned of the American cities, we would not fail. We would rise above the corner. And when we tell ourselves such things, we unthinkably assume that we would be consigned to places like Fayette Street fully equipped, with all the graces and disciplines, talents and training that we now posses. Our parents would still be our parents, our teachers still our teachers, our broker still our broker. Amid the stench of so much defeat and despair, we would kick fate in the teeth and claim our deserved victory. We would escape to live the life we were supposed to live, the life we are living now. We would be saved, and as it always is in matters of salvation, we know this as a matter of perfect, pristine faith. Why? The truth is plain: We were not born to be niggers.

My cousin will fuck anything that moves.” “And yet he hasn’t fucked you.” “Monroe…” “Sorry.” I suppressed the sneaky laugh bubbling in my chest, but it quickly died when a disturbing thought occurred to me.

best Hitchcock films not made by Hitchcock. Here we go: Le Boucher, the early Claude Chabrol that Hitch, according to lore, wished he’d directed. Dark Passage, with Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall—a San Francisco valentine, all velveteen with fog, and antecedent to any movie in which a character goes under the knife to disguise himself. Niagara, starring Marilyn Monroe; Charade, starring Audrey Hepburn; Sudden Fear!, starring Joan Crawford’s eyebrows. Wait Until Dark: Hepburn again, a blind woman stranded in her basement apartment. I’d go berserk in a basement apartment.

Double Indemnity, Gaslight, Saboteur, The Big Clock . . . We lived in monochrome those nights. For me, it was a chance to revisit old friends; for Ed, it was an opportunity to make new ones. And we’d make lists. The Thin Man franchise, ranked from best (the original) to worst (Song of the Thin Man). Top movies from the bumper crop of 1944. Joseph Cotten’s finest moments. I can do lists on my own, of course. For instance: best Hitchcock films not made by Hitchcock. Here we go: Le Boucher, the early Claude Chabrol that Hitch, according to lore, wished he’d directed. Dark Passage, with Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall—a San Francisco valentine, all velveteen with fog, and antecedent to any movie in which a character goes under the knife to disguise himself. Niagara, starring Marilyn Monroe; Charade, starring Audrey Hepburn; Sudden Fear!, starring Joan Crawford’s eyebrows. Wait Until Dark: Hepburn again, a blind woman stranded in her basement apartment. I’d go berserk in a basement apartment.

Isn't she gorgeous, Ken?" "Too pretty for Thatch, that's for damn sure.," Ken remarked with a smurk. "Seriously, Cassie? Is he blackmailing you? Do we need to alert the authorities? Blink twice if he kidnapped you. Three times if you fear for you life.

real courage is belief in yourself. To face and defeat your fear, or be defeated by it.

As Jonathan says, delusions are often no more than expressions of our deepest wishes - and of our most profound fears

Le Boucher, the early Claude Chabrol that Hitch, according to lore, wished he’d directed. Dark Passage, with Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall—a San Francisco valentine, all velveteen with fog, and antecedent to any movie in which a character goes under the knife to disguise himself. Niagara, starring Marilyn Monroe; Charade, starring Audrey Hepburn; Sudden Fear!, starring Joan Crawford’s eyebrows. Wait Until Dark: Hepburn again, a blind woman stranded in her basement apartment. I’d go berserk in a basement apartment. Now, movies that postdate Hitch: The Vanishing, with its sucker-punch finale. Frantic, Polanski’s ode to the master. Side Effects, which begins as a Big Pharma screed before slithering like an eel into another genre altogether. Okay. Popular film misquotes. “Play it again, Sam”: Casablanca, allegedly, except neither Bogie nor Bergman ever said it. “He’s alive”: Frankenstein doesn’t gender his monster; cruelly, it’s just “It’s alive.” “Elementary, my dear Watson” does crop up in the first Holmes film of the talkie era, but appears nowhere in the Conan Doyle canon.

It time for me to shed all my insecurities and fears. Let them fall to the ground. It’s time for me to find my voice and fly.

I still have my talent. My life. You’re the one who told me not to live in fear. I’m listening to you. If I don’t act on my instincts, then I’m afraid to act on what I know is right. And this is right. I feel it in my heart. In my soul. I know what to do.

Her fear kept her as caged as her canaries. The glass windows were no different than their metal bars.

There is something magical in humans— it’s a power that lies in their thoughts. A simple thought could transform the fiercest warrior into but a mouse at the sight of something so innocuous as a shadow . All it required was a little fear. But a well-placed thought did the opposite, too. Even a common housewife could become a lionhearted hero if she entertained the proper thoughts if she developed a little courage.

It’s easier to fear a caricature of a villain than it is to confront the villainy within. The tendency toward evil, toward violence, that hides in the darkness of a human soul is the most terrifying monster in the world. Want to fight something evil? Start with yourself. Confront your darkness before you fuck with mine. [...] Ironic, I suppose, since there’s more than enough monster in humans to spare. There’s also a lot within humanity that’s beautiful, that motivates people to pursue virtue rather than vice. Vampire, witch, mambo, human, whatever . There’s a little good in the worst of us and a little bad in the best of us. The key isn’t so much about choosing one path or the other, but having the wisdom to discern the difference. After all, even the world’s worst villains believed they were heroes. Bad guys usually think they’re the good guys.

And what exactly is a frog hair, Ms. Monroe?

When you feel scared, remember that courage is not the absence of fear. Courage is taking action in the face of fear.

Having to be two people at once, both temptress and caregiver, wife and mother, minds are split in half. Even if somehow they didn't, if they managed to keep themselves whole, the act of mothering was torture. Breasts reduced to milk bags for animal rooting, sleep all but impossible to get, and the mind constantly twisted with wonder and worry for this helpless thing that would become no less helpless as it got older. An entire life devoted to the care and nurturing of another, always fearing, always convinced you were screwing up. Knowing deep down that whatever happened would be your fault. The surprising thing was that more mothers didn't lose their minds.

February 4: Marilyn attends her first session at the Actors Studio. Elia Kazan introduces her to Lee Strasberg, who agrees to give her private lessons. On Strasberg’s advice, she also sees a psychiatrist, Dr. Margaret Hohenberg, who has been analyzing Milton Greene for several years. They work on her childhood traumas, fear of abandonment, and inability to commit to long-term relationships.

Why hadn’t she believed she could do it? As soon as she asked the question, she knew the answer. Fear. Fear of failure. Fear of not being perfect. Fear was at the root of her problems. The bedrock of her timidity. The

It felt like the first time—twelve years old—hidden beneath a makeshift bed sheet tent and the astonishment (and not a little fear) that something came out of this fleshy joystick.

Don’t fear death. Death is life’s companion. If you fear death, you fear life.” His hand tightened on her chin. “Nora, don’t be afraid to live.

I park, turn off the car, and take a deep breath. I must not fear. Fear is the mind killer. I repeat the Litany Against Fear over and over in my mind. Forget my years at Delta Zeta, the Bene Gesserit are my true sisterhood.

Most things in the world aren’t dangerous in their own right. It’s when people take those things, use them to further their own agenda, warp them to serve themselves rather than others, that turns something good, decent, or neutral into a devastating force. The entire world was a ticking time bomb. The digital world wasn’t all bad. It was neutral, really. But it also fueled polarization, discontent, and angst. It made things accessible that you used to have to find in dusty tomes, or had to research in libraries or at universities. You don’t need to travel the world to consult an expert any more. A bastardized version of almost any expertise was posted online for all the world to use and abuse. What should have united people, giving us access to information to understand other people, cultures, and worldviews, has instead become bent by the human pathology— the disease of narcissism— to do the opposite. We used the digital sphere to close our minds to anything that challenged our assumptions. People found it easier to congregate among the like- minded. It’s reached a point of absurdity. Rather than consider views that challenge one’s perspective of the world, people search out those who will ratify and confirm their biases. As such, rather than bringing people together, or debating their ideas in the public square, people on either extreme of any situation only grow more polarized, stretching the civilized world like a criminal on a medieval rack. All because everyone’s too damn blind to consider their own error, how they might be wrong, or to critically reconsider their own insecurities and fears. Understanding the other has never been more possible due to the accessibility of information. Anyone who genuinely wants to understand alternate lifestyles or views can do so quite easily— but no one wants to. Because when our idols fail, when our false- gods betray us, it leaves us grasping at straws. Even those like my father, who use religion to serve their own insecurities, and reforge their deity into an idol in their own image— worship at the altar of the unholy trinity of me, myself, and I. That’s always been the state of the world, in truth. Whatever we fear, love, or trust the most. That’s our god. And most people trust “number one” above all else, they prioritize themself over all others, and since they’ve become gods unto themselves, anyone who disagrees with them is no longer viewed as a dignified person with a right to their own opinions and choices. If their opinion contradicted and violated my divine me, then anyone who disagrees with me is by definition a heretic. And the world has only ever had one way of dealing with those they deem heretics. One thing I’ve learned more than anything else over the last century and a half of my existence is that being wrong isn’t a bad thing. We can’t grow at all if we can’t admit our error. We will never advance if we don’t grant ourselves permission to be wrong— if we aren’t thankful for being disproven, that we might evolve, adapt, and grow in our wisdom. That’s what’s crazy about the world. It’s spinning out of control, ready to tear itself apart. All it would take is a simple recognition that it’s okay to be wrong, that it’s a necessary part of life, and a realization that we can all learn something from anyone and everyone else. But we’ve all become zealots in the religion of self. We’re all staunch defenders of our personal dogma. The problem is that we all nod along to those insights— so long as they convict everyone else. While the god of “self” is weak, an idol no more trustworthy than gods of wood or stone, it doesn’t die easily. Who was I to think I could save the world ever? All I’d ever done was delay the inevitable. That didn’t mean I wouldn’t keep trying… I wouldn’t keep fighting. Because when we stop fighting for others we end up stuck in that damned religion of me. And I was never very religious. Why change now?

Because no matter what you think, I am special. I am fearfully and wonderfully made and I more than deserve a man who values and loves me as the phenomenal creature I am.

Warriors of a kind’ he then added, smiling. ‘And why should you not be? If you are not a warrior within then you have fear. Fear is one of the most dangerous things for people. Fear pulls a person further into the trap of your reality and lessens your potential for perception. Fear is a wonderful distracter; it keeps you occupied on the mundane, and on the false.

Look young man, what goes on in this reality is Intelligence trying to find itself – whether through fear, chaos, opposition; or through unity and compassion. These are all various aspects of the same game that is playing out. You need to be a conscious game-player, which means getting yourself on the playing-field rather than allowing yourself to be subdued on the sidelines. Be a bridge and be a game-player!

Zane knew he needed to pull out the big guns. "I'm falling in love with you, Monroe O'Connor." Her gray eyes went wide. "No." "Yes." "No." She shook her head, looking terrified. It almost made Zane smile. "You don't get to tell me how I feel." He lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her until she made a sweet little moan. "I love you, Monroe." Turbulent gray eyes met his- filled with a mix of fear, wonder, and love. "And you love me back," he added.

His stare was direct and steady yet, I felt, sympathetic also. ‘I should also say’ he went on, ‘that there is simultaneously a movement to create fear and confusion on this planet. You should not concern yourself with this, nor respond to it emotionally. Be aware of its presence; yet be neutral, and remain balanced and positive.

When evil is tolerated long enough, it eventually becomes accepted. “The creatures would gallop , slither, fly, or walk past it without even giving it a thought. They imagined it simply wasn’t there. But it was. From fear… to indifference… to curiosity. Curiosity inevitably became temptation.

What about disease? What about cancer?" "As an immortal, there is a beauty to mortality as well. It's a gift that you used to know but no longer do. Why do you suppose Niccolo wanted to die after walking the earth for thousands of years? Most people don't want to die, that's true. But without mortality, things lose their urgency and meaning. There is beauty in that, in cherishing every moment precisely because you never know if it might be your last." [...] "Still, I know what it's like to have another side to yourself. To live fearing that it might one day take over and turn you into something you don't want to be. While vampires can live forever, we can be killed as well. The wraiths prove as much. Even if I were to live forever, though, I still cherish every moment because things change. Moments are fleeting. The present is always perishing. Why live worried about the past or the future when all anyone ever has is now?

My agent told me early on in my writing career that I must bear one thing in mind above all else: jeopardy. I always try to write books that I want to read, so inevitably the stories that put my characters in danger are based on my own fears".

she felt her self-control slide and she began to slip into the vortex of uncertainty. Old fears and doubts stirred in her brain to infest her heart. She

We should all start to live before we get too old. Fear is stupid. So are regrets.” -Marilyn Monroe

He's still a blur but Jim knows it's him because of the sickly sweet aftershave. Dr Haslam never goes anywhere without it. Maybe it's to mask the smell of other people's fear