the power burned so brightly within him that he glowed, his cells dying in its majesty

i read a very sad and powerful passage in a book today, and realized that though i constantly seek some great adventure that will never happen, if it did, i would not have the strength to return from it. i would not have the strength to survive it, knowing the losses i might endure.
that was not what the passage was about, but it was a very realistic approach to the "action/adventure" side of the book. people die, even heroes. i don't know if there's anything that i would die for. maybe i'm lucky that there's nothing so pressing for me that i would have to make that choice.
i think i write about people who represent facets of myself that i would someday like to have, but in reality likely will not. i doubt i would be able to devote myself to a race that i often blame for its own destruction. but i might be willing to devote it to protecting the innocent members from a far greater and more tangible evil. like i said, i'm lucky that doesn't exist.
peace, or what ever form of it we as americans have, might be boring, even an ignorant bliss, but at least we have the chance to feel secure and to be happy.
To all the warring nations, our own included: is a little extra territory or fuel worth the lives you spend in exchange?
obviously its not.
do a few thousand protest participants and anti-war demonstrators make a difference?
haven't so far.
seems like its hopeless. maybe i should just be happy with my citizen-of-the-most-powerful-nation-in-the-world-security blanket.