Dread spilled over the Englishman, dread of a world in which he could not die, a world without fear, a meaningless world. Fear permeated all that he knew to be good in life: love, danger, adventure. That was the secret he carried with him and that carried him along. But why venture without fear? You can lie down in the desert and face the beast or the vulture or the villain and mock his weapons and his desires, but to what end? Without fear, what matter if they bite or peck or stab you?
-David Rich
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