I was afraid of just about everything in this world, with the possible exception of my mother and I wasn't too sure about her.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
When I was a kid, I was afraid of other kids.
The first several years of my life were used to upload incredible amounts of fear, and I just became afraid of everything. I was afraid of my parents, afraid of my classmates, afraid of the streets of Washington, D.C. I would flinch at every gesture.
What I am afraid of is the first thing I was ever aware of being afraid of and what I have told my daughter countless times she need not fear: being alone in the dark. It is a small prison of emotion from which there is no escape. It is also, in its own way, a shattering revelation.
I'm afraid of everything. But maybe when you're afraid of everything, it sort of seems like you're scared of nothing.
I've traveled the world and been about everywhere you can imagine. There's not anything I'm scared of except my wife.
I've never been afraid of much, and like any normal kid, I liked to push the limits of what I could do.
I'm not afraid of anything.
I was never afraid of anything in the world except the dentist.
My mother and father were never frightened of anything. They always felt that they should go through life happily and without fear, and they did that. And it was a great boon to my brother and myself.
I'm not afraid of anything. That's just the way I am.