You're afraid. Of yourself more than anyone else in the world.

The fear of loss . . . it can destroy you as much as the loss itself.

Fear could break a line faster than any enemy charge.

And then things would be fine. Then I'd be fine.

All I wanted was to return to - to the people around me. I wanted it badly enough I didn't have room for fear. The worst had happened, and the darkness was calm and quiet. It did not seem like a bad thing to fade into. But I wanted to go home.

It was a voice she had heard before, deep and raspy. It made her bones crack and splinter, made her feel the astonishing cold of a winter long since passed.

It was that initial leap of utter faith, that initial lurch into motion, that had my limbs locking up.

Centre yourself. Fear will get you killed as easily as a weapon.