“But then what do you do?""I pray for strength."The words were simple, straightforward. Josef pushed against the floor with one foot and the swing moved back and forth, cradling us."And then you're not afraid anymore?""No," he replied. "Then I am still afraid. But then I know that God knows I'm afraid, and that is what makes the difference.”
“Do you know what I like about comedy? You can’t laugh and be afraid at the same time—of anything. If you're laughing, I defy you to be afraid.”
“You know what I'm afraid of? That God is sick of us.”
“What do people mean when they say, 'I am not afraid of God because I know He is good'? Have they never even been to a dentist?”
“What are those people doing?" Jenna whispered to me. "I don't know," I replied through a frozen grin, "but I'm afraid a musical number might be involved.”
“Do you know what it is you're most afraid of?""Yes.""What?""I'm afraid of being forgotten," Bob said, and having admitted that, wondered if it was true. He said, "I'm afraid I'll end up living a life like everyone else's and me being Bob Ford won't matter one way or the other.”