Helms built to this closing statement through a vivid account of bombing onstage during standup comedy. After his first few successful sets (fueled by adrenaline and over-preparation), he failed spectacularly. Everyone told him to 'shake it off,' but Helms argued that you can't shake off failure at something you love: 'it isn't on the outside of you like dirt or spilled mayonnaise — it's inside of you. It's in your molecules.' Once again, he interrogated his fear rather than running from it. Fear reluctantly admitted that the bombing was 'really useful data' — the audience's reactions, both laughs and silence, were precise feedback about what worked and what didn't. He listened to recordings of his sets, terrified, and heard 'the subtlest variations in my timing' and 'details' he never would have noticed without the pain of failure. The conclusion — that running from fear means running from your best self — reframed courage not as the absence of fear but as the willingness to stay in conversation with it. For Knox College graduates about to face their own versions of bombing onstage, it was both honest about the pain ahead and encouraging about what that pain can teach.