These lines strike me as a very grounded manifesto for personal resilience. They seem to balance two distinct strategies for dealing with an overwhelming world: retreat and preparation.
The first part, "Go to quiet places in noisy times," feels like a directive for self-preservation. It acknowledges that when the world is chaotic—whether that’s actual noise, digital saturation, or social turmoil—you rarely win by shouting louder. It suggests that withdrawal isn't the same as giving up; it’s a tactical move to regain your clarity and your bearings.
The second line, "If you're afraid of the dark, carry a torch," shifts the focus entirely to agency. It is a pragmatic antidote to anxiety. We often treat fear of the unknown (the dark) as a signal to stop moving, but this suggests that the fear is irrelevant if you have the right tools. It puts the responsibility for your own comfort and safety back in your hands, rather than waiting for dawn to break or for someone else to switch on the lights.
Taken together, they offer a sort of modern Stoicism: remove yourself from unnecessary chaos, but when you must face the difficult or the unknown, go in equipped rather than helpless.