Causes have a way of tainting your reason until a person takes much bigger risks than sanity would otherwise allow.

In short, heroism means doing the right thing regardless of the consequences.

Seth put his ear against the door. "I can't hear anything." "There are probably ten of them patiently waiting on the far side, ready to pounce." Brownies are shrimps. All I'd need are some heavy boots, a pair of shin guards, and a weed whacker." The image made Kendra giggle.

The curse of mortality. You spend the first portion of your life learning, growing stronger, more capable. And then, through no fault of your own, your body begins to fail. You regress. Strong limbs become feeble, keen senses grow dull, hardy constitutions deteriorate. Beauty withers. Organs quit. You remember yourself in your prime, and wonder where that person went. As your wisdom and experience are peaking, your traitorous body becomes a prison.

A gunshot rang out, blasting a hole in the door. A crossbow quarrel zinged through the hole and stuck quivering into the opposite wall. Seth heard the rocking horse clattering down the staircase, the twang of bowstrings, and the overlapping beat of several other projectiles thudding against the door. "That was awesome," Seth told Kendra. "You're psychotic," Kendra replied.

An unread book does nobody any good

Choices determine character.