“I make a joke of it, but... but I'm afraid of death." He straightened up and turned to look into Joseph's eyes. Joseph saw the fear there and was shocked by the intensity of it. "Are you afraid to die, Joseph?" Joseph considered for a moment, then shook his head. "I'm not afraid to now, but then I'm not dying now. When I come to that moment, I will probably be... what's the right word? Maybe frightened in a way that you're frightened when an experience lies before you you've never had. "No more than that?" "I hope not.”

“I will not die for a long time." Joseph tugged at his gray beard. "My beard goes white, but there's a lot of life in me yet.""Don't be so sure, Abba," Joshua said.Joseph dropped the bowl he was working on and stared into his hands. "Run away and play, you two," he said, his voice little more than a whisper.Joshua stood and walked away. I wanted to throw my arms around the old man, for I had never seen a grown man afraid before and it frightened me too. "Can I help?" I said, pointing to the half-finished bowl that lay in Joseph's lap."You go with Joshua. He needs a friend to teach him to be human. Then I can teach him to be a man.”

“You missed the point completely! You're acting..." The word stuck in my throat.He didn't hesitate to say it. "Jealous?" When I nodded, he continued. "Now you're missing the point. It isn't jealousy. It's fear.""Fear?" Not the emotion I expected."Yes. Fear. I'm afraid you'll be hurt or killed. I'm afraid I won't be able to protect you. I'm afraid I'll lose you to another man.”

“He looked at the gun. "Aren't you afraid?""Of course I am," Anna said. "Of course I'm afraid. But that doesn't help."He shook his head. "No," he said, "it doesn't help to be afraid. Bad things happen anyway. You're right.”

“_I_ boil it." Joseph entered last, closing the door behind them. "Last time, you burnt it."Connor glared at Joseph. "We were attacked! What would you have me tell the Abenaki? 'I cannae fight just now. I'm makin' candy. Would you like a wee taste?”

“The moment Kafka attracts more attenetion than Joseph K., Kafka's posthumous death begins.”