“However, the crowds all the while maintained their mouse-tense hush, their air of urgency. Fear. There was a reek of it everywhere, Mosca realized, in every guarded glance or falsely friendly backslap. A clammy smell, like rotten leaves. And everybody went about their lives in spite of it, because fear was part of their lives.”

“Again Mosca felt she was up in the rafters, watching the mice. Little mouse, witless with fear. Running the wrong way. And here she was, just watching. Becoming a part of it by doing nothing.”

“Fearless is not the absence of fear. Fearless is living in spite of those things that scare you.”

“Fear's a box we grow used to, convince ourselves it's all the space we need, that we like its color, its smell, its protection. Comes a time to stop hiding, stop being afraid. If we don't break free of our boxes, our spirits' shrink, we shrink in every way imaginable. Oh, Grace, my friend, don't let fear, especially someone else's fear, prevent you from living your life.”

“making people fear you in this world is not part of being a man. Being a man is leaving such a good impression everywhere you, that people would fear how the world would be without you”

“How does he do it? Live. With the fear of death every day. I don't fear death as much as I fear the thought of living.”