“But then, is there cowardice in the acknowledgment of fear? Is there cowardice in being glad that you lived?”

“Is there cowardice with the acknowledgement of fear?”

“There was also an acknowledgment that there was great beauty in what she was currently witnessing, and she chose not to disturb it.”

“I have to say that although it broke my heart, I was, and still am, glad I was there.”

“They were frightened, no question, but they were not afraid of me. It was a fear of messing up and having to face themselves again, and facing the world, and the likes of you.”

“Fear is shiny. Ruthless in the eyes.”

“Make sure you live,' she said. 'As decent as you can. I know you'll make mistakes, but sometimes you're meant to, okay?”