A great metaphor for the way fear can bubble and multiply, bringing to the surface appalling images. What’s the antidote?¬† To drink another product of fermentation?

‘Fear worked like yeast in my thoughts, and the fermentation brought to the surface, in great gobs of scum, the images of disaster.’

Source: Evelyn Waugh, Brideshead Revisited: The Sacred and Profane Memories of Captain Charles Ryder (Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1968 (1945)), p. 73

Photo credit: Frank Luca at unsplash.com

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