One minute you've got a lucky star watching over you and the next instant it's done a bunk. - Salman Rushdie

I'll tell you a secret about fear: it's an absolutist. With fear, it's all or nothing. Either, like any bullying tyrant, it rules your life with stupid blinding omnipotence, or else you overthrow it, and its power vanishes in a puff of smoke. And another secret: the revolution against fear, the engendering of that tawdry despot's fall, has more or less nothing to do with 'courage'. It is driven by something much more straightforward: the simple need to get on with your life.

Is birth always a fall?

How far did they fly? Five and a half thousand as the crow. Or: from Indianness to Englishness, an immeasurable distance. Or, not
very far at all, because they rose from one great city, fell to another. The distance between cities is always small; a villager, travelling a
hundred miles to town, traverses emptier, darker, more terrifying space.