Do not look upon this world with fear and loathing. Bravely face whatever the gods offer.

Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself.

Stories can conquer fear, you know. They can make the heart bigger.

This man is freed from servile bands, Of hope to rise, or fear to fall Lord of himself, though not of lands, And leaving nothing, yet hath all.

From too much love of living, From hope and fear set free, We thank with brief thanksgiving Whatever gods may be That no life lives for ever That dead men rise up never That even the weariest river Winds somewhere safe to sea.