Why then do you fear love in particular more than earthly existence in general?" Kafka replied as if from an astral distance: "You write: 'Why be more afraid of love than of other things in life?' And just before that: 'I experienced the intermittently divine for the first time, and more frequently than elsewhere, in love.' If you conjoin these two sentences, it's as if you had said: 'Why not fear every bush in the same way that you fear the burning bush?
In this exchange, Kafka reflects on the complex nature of love and fear. The question of why one might fear love more than other life experiences invites a deeper examination of affection’s unique intensity. Kafka responds by highlighting the extraordinary feeling of the divine that can emerge in love, suggesting that such profound emotions warrant a distinct kind of apprehension.
By comparing the fear of love to the fear of a burning bush, Kafka emphasizes that the intensity of love's experience is unlike mundane fears. The metaphor suggests that just as the burning bush embodies a significant spiritual encounter, love presents an equally significant, albeit terrifying, emotional risk, recognizing that some experiences in life are far more potent than others.
