He who expects men to be always as good as their beliefs, indulges a groundless hope; and he who expects men to be always as bad as their beliefs, vexes himself with a needless fear.
Our civilization has fallen out of touch with night. With lights, we drive the holiness and beauty of night back to the forests and the sea; the little villages, the crossroads even, will have none of it. Are modern folk, perhaps, afraid of night? Do they fear that vast serenity, the mystery of infinite space, the austerity of stars?
Many of our fears are tissue-paper thin, and a single courageous step would carry us clear through them.
Curiosity will conquer fear even more than bravery will.
Most of the fear that spoils our life comes from attacking difficulties before we get to them.
The home is the most ordinary of institutions. It is the temple of our shelter and rest, the habituation of our hopes and our fears. It is the resort of love, the refuge of virtue, the altar of prayer. It is the school of cleanliness, the preceptor of obedience, the sanctuary of modesty. It is at once the stronghold of the ordinary and the shrine of joy.
Uncertainty! fell demon of our fears! The human soul that can support despair, supports not thee.
For a moment, off balance, was I annoyed? Anger is always fear, I thought, and fear is always fear of loss. Would I lose myself if he made those choices? It took a second to settle down: I'd lose nothing. They'd be his wishes, not mine, and he's free to live as he wants. The loss would come if I dared force him, tried to live for him and me as well. There'd be disaster worse than life on a bar stool.
Fear of serious injury alone cannot justify oppression of free speech and assembly. Men feared witches and burnt women. It is the function of speech to free men from the bondage of irrational fears.
I sometimes react to making a mistake as if I have betrayed myself. My fear of making a mistake seems to be based on the hidden assumption that I am potentially perfect and that if I can just be very careful I will not fall from heaven. But a 'mistake' is a declaration of the way I am, a jolt to the way I intend, a reminder I am not dealing with the facts. When I have listened to my mistakes I have grown.
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