|Anakin| was scared that once he discussed his turmoil openly, then he could never cope with being a Jedi—his kind of Jedi, Obi-Wan’s kind of Jedi—again. And he had no idea where that might lead.
"It is the way of universe, which is another manner of saying that it is the will of the Force," Obi-Wan had told him."Everything dies. In time, even stars burn out."
I don’t know what the cave refers to, but I don’t ask. I don’t need another reason to doubt Luke. I had always doubted Anakin, and he had felt that wobble in our foundation from the start. Add it to the list of mistakes I was trying not to make again.
“As you should,” Yoda said. “As I would yours, young Obi-Wan. As any Jedi would any other, in the cause of peace.”
“Any Jedi,” Obi-Wan said, “except Anakin.”
He felt like an embarrassment to them. I do everything you ask of me. I try so hard. When is it going to be enough? When are you going to say, “Okay, Anakin Skywalker, you’re good enough”?
Memory flooded back. Qui-Gon had kept things from him, too. Now Obi-Wan understood his Master's caution. But he also remembered how Qui-Gon's decision to share his past had deepened their connection. It was what he wanted for himself and Anakin.
He felt a strong urge not to wake the boy, to let him sleep like this forever, to forever anticipate a great adventure, forever dream of personal triumph and joy. This feeling held too much sentiment and weakness to be allowed, but he allowed it nevertheless.
“Ten years in this place, and still he was an object of interest. Of speculation. All their hopes and dreams hanging on him like decorations on a bantha skeleton at Boonta Eve. He hated it.”