“I fear oblivion. I fear it like the proverbial blind man who's afraid of the dark.”

“Augustus, perhaps you’d like to share your fears with the group.”“My fears?”“Yes.”“I fear oblivion,” he said without a moment’s pause. “I fear it like the proverbial blind man who’s afraid of the dark.”“Too soon,” Isaac said, cracking a smile.“Was that insensitive?” Augustus asked. “I can be pretty blind to other people’s feelings.”

“My fears?”“Yes.”“I fear oblivion,” he said without a moment’spause. “I fear it like the proverbialblind man who’s afraid of the dark.”

“The oblivion fear is something else, fear that I won't be able to give anything in exchange for my life. If you don't live a life in service of a greater good, you've gotta at least die a death in service of a greater good, you know? And I fear that I won't get either a life or a death that means anything.”

“I think maybe the reason I have spent most of my life being afraid is that I have been trying to prepare myself to train my body for real fear when it comes. But I am not prepared.”

“I thought: That is the fear: I have lost something important, and I cannot find it, and I need it. It is fear like if someone lost his glasses and went to the glasses store they told him that the world had run out of glasses and he would just have to do without.”

“That is the fear: I have lost something important, and I cannot find it, and I need it. It is fear like if someone lost his glasses and went to the glasses store and they told him that the world had run out of glasses and he would just have to do without.”