So, the fear of death might be described as the fear of not being able to become whom one had planned to be.

Sometimes, we are afraid of something because we're afraid of something else.

Isn't it true that it's not people who meet, but rather the shadows cast by their imaginations?

To live for the moment: it sounds so right and so beautiful. But the more I want to, the less I understand what it means.

So, the fear of death might be described as the fear of not being able to become whom one had planned to be.

AS SOMBRAS DA ALMA. THE SHADOWS OF THE SOUL. The stories others tell about you and the stories you tell about yourself: which come closer to the truth? Is it so clear that they are your own? Is one an authority on oneself? But that isn't the question that concerns me. The real question is: In such stories, is there really a difference between true and false? In stories about the outside, surely. But when we set out to understand someone on the inside? Is that a trip that ever comes to an end? Is the soul a place of facts? Or are the alleged facts only the deceptive shadows of our stories?

To stand by yourself -- that was also part of dignity. That way, a person could get through a public flaying with dignity. Galileo. Luther. Even somebody who admitted his guilt and resisted the temptation to deny it. Something politicians couldn't do. Honesty, the courage for honesty. With others and yourself.